#but. i dreamt about my father again last night and i hated it. i kept trying to get away from him but he just pulled me back with a smile

[thebleedingeffect]

Okay sadly probably no writing for tonight the phil lore is making my brain spin so hard and I only have the mental capacity to play minecraft smh

[brrbrina]

Just want to request prompt #16, maybe where the reader was super busy and tired and wasn’t able to do any of the chores. However Joe also had a long day but he wanted to do the chores for the reader to take off some stress from her. Something like that filled with fluff 😚❤️

warnings: none

You came home extremely tired from work, ever since you were tiny you dreamt of a flower shop. After you went away to college and came back you earned a little money you decided to open it, later on your journey you met Joe, he was there picking lilies for his mom on Mother´s day and he kept showing up every week until he ran out of excuses to give flowers for his mom

"You know I can physically see you thinking of something to say when you order these flowers right?" you said looking at him and you saw his eyes smile for the first time "Well, I love giving my mom flowers is that a bad thing?" "No it isn´t, that´s actually really sweet," you said on the other side of the counter "How can I help you today Joe?" you said smiling "Can I have your number? I would love to take you out on a date?" he said hopping you didn´t had a boyfriend -which you didn't- but to him it was impossible, you were gorgeous and the times you had talked you were as sweet as pie.

It´s safe to say you went on a date with him, and three years later you had your first and only child -until now - a little baby boy with the biggest blue eyes ever, he looked exactly like his dad you were crying tears of joy when you saw him for the first time.

Joe was an excellent father, boyfriend and above all he was an impeccable man, he loved spending his nights in and taking care of you and your little one, even though you didn´t plan on having a kid so soon, it happened and you were sure you were made to be his mom and he was made to be your son. And Joe loved it, he loved the fact that he could teach him the same things his dad reached him, but deep down he was born to be a girl dad, there wasn´t a single day where he didn't wonder about his life having a little girl

"We´ve talked about this before Joe, Jack is still so little and I´m focused on the flower shop, the off-season it´s the only time you are here 24/7 and I don´t blame you it´s your job but you have to understand that I have my dreams as well" you said putting the dishwasher on, as much as you loved being a mom, it wasn´t in your plans soon, "I have told you a hundred times I make enough money for us, you can stay here and watch our children, and, " Joe said but you stopped him, it was getting in your nerves he couldn´t take a no for an answer "This isn´t about me needing your money, you had a dream when you were a kid and you worked hard for it, you got it, and you´re living your dream, this is about me and what I need to do because I owe myself this, and I´m not ready to be a mom again, the last pregnancy was on the season and I hated being alone, I can do this again, you said walking out of the kitchen going upstairs to take a shower, you had been working all day and the last thing you wanted was to take out your anger on him.

When you came out of the shower and made your way to your bed you saw that Joe wasn´t there, he knew he had done wrong so he gave you space, and as much as you would love for him to come back to you you saw him sleeping with Jack on his bed, the bed was so tiny and Joe was so big it made you giggle.

The next morning he left for practice and he dropped Jack off at school, it was a weird feeling because you didn´t want him near you, you just wanted to be alone, you loved your kid, but being a mom can be an exhausting job.

A few hours had passed and the doorbell on the flower shop was ranged "Can I get a big bouquet of peonies?" he was standing there, with your favorite matcha latte and his sorry eyes, "Sure, do you want to write a note?" you said not making eye contact with him "Yes I want to write I´m sorry, I´m the world´s worst boyfriend please" he said trying to make you look at him, "Joe" you said but he interrupted "I´m sorry, I know I went too far, this is your dream and you´re pretty good at it, to be honest" and you punched him on the arm as he laughed "C´mon let´s go pick up Jack" you said telling the girls on the flower shop you were leaving, you rarely did this but there wasn´t any jobe due that day and you needed your family.

Later that day you were on the couch watching Cars with Jack and while you were falling asleep you heard Joe whisper "I forgot to add in the note that you´re the hottest MILF ever" he said kissing your ear but you decided to just close your eyes and go to sleep.

a/n: I know this isn´t exactly what you asked for but i got carried away writing this one and tbh i´m falling asleep writing this lol BUT I loved writing this, hopefully, i´ll get out of my writers block and give you the last chapter of fwd series :)

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Carnal | VIII | When You Open Me

Carnal(adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, gore, smut, anal sex

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Two Men in Love -The Irrepressibles

Johnny liked taking walks around the ‘house’ in the mornings. It was more of an estate considering how much land was included but Nina always referred to it as ‘the house’. To the East side was an old stable, empty for years. The path connecting it to the driveway had become overgrown. To the West and North were all woods. 

“I don’t go there,” Nina said, when he asked about walking trails. 

“Never? I would have been all over that as a kid. You can always join me…if you want”

“No…Just be careful.”

He never saw anyone else out there. He enjoyed the privacy but it was strange considering how beautiful and easy to walk it was. 

It was eight in the morning when he walked back into the house. Nina was awake by then, taking the kettle off the stove. She made tea, he made breakfast. Simple eggs and toast today. He’d have to go hunting again next weekend. 

“Who’s Simon?” She asked, stirring sugar into her cup. 

Johnny choked on his tea. Nina was unfazed as he wiped his chin off. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he still dreamt about Simon. He tried to dream about Nina. It didn’t feel kind to do otherwise. They were sharing a bed now. 

“Is that mask’s name?” 

“Aye, it is.”

“Can I ask about what happened between you two?”

“You can. Don’t know if I’ll answer.”

He didn’t truly understand it himself. One moment they were partners, comrades, lovers and the next Simon didn’t want him. Johnny had blamed himself for it all. His eagerness, his hopeless romanticness, his naivety. 

He’d wanted too much. Simon only wanted food and a fuck. Love was never on the table. Johnny wanted to be claimed, to be kept like a promise. He wanted Simon to consume him. 

Simon had wrapped himself around Johnny’s brain like a parasite and he was helpless to stop it. It made him feel like a schoolgirl, how enamored he was with him at one point. Chasing him down the halls, meeting in dark corners, the burn he felt whenever Simon touched his shoulder.

He expected too much from him. Simon was The Ghost. Any tenderness wouldn’t have lasted, it would all grow cold eventually. 

He’d fooled himself into believing he could bring the dead back to live. Make Simon his Lazurus. Breath life into him, make them into something better, something new. 

Like the grass in Oxfordshire. It was Spring, they were camping in a field. Everything was growing again, finding food would be easier as it got warmer Simon had said. Last night’s hunt cooking on a small fire. Johnny remembered thinking it was going to burn. 

They both had their jeans around their ankles. Simon had laid his jacket under Johnny’s head for comfort. Simon was gentle with him. Johnny’s spend covering Simon’s hand from earlier, using it to prep him.   

“You ready Johnny?” Simon stroked his back with one hand while three fingers on the other spread him open. 

Thinking back he hated how desperate and pathetic he was. Always begging for Simon’s affection, affection that had him pressed against the earth a random Sunday night in Spring. A day that used to be holy to him, when he’d walk up to the altar and eat the body and drink the blood of his savior. 

Now he ate and drank with his savior. 

“Please,” he moaned. He choked on air as Simon pushed the head of his cock inside him. His fingers tangled in the grass. Simon rocked his hips back and forth, keeping a steady pace. It was romantic…almost. He could close his eyes and pretend it was at least.

His first time in front of a fire and under the stars. He could lie to himself and say Simon loved him. It felt like love when he was laying sloppy kisses to Johnny’s neck and spilling filthy words into his ear. When their hands interlocked as Simon hunched over Johnny, chest to back. 

“Wait…” He gasped. Simon pulled out and brushed his knuckles across Johnny’s face.

“You alright?”

“I want…I want to look at ya.” Hopeless romantic.

Simon chuckled and helped move him onto his back. He leaned on his forearm, framing Johnny’s face. Johnny whimpered when Simon stroked his cock before pushing back inside him. Johnny grunted and grabbed the back of Simon’s neck. 

Simon tasted like blood and cheap beer. His tongue danced across Johnny’s lips, he opened his mouth eagerly. 

“S’tight. Mm’fuck! Johnny…” Simon caught his bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. “Touchyerself’

Johnny obeyed, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking up and down. His stomach was heaving, feet twitching and back arching. He was close. 

“Please Si, please. Ahh..fuck..please… I need it.” Johnny leaned his bad back, exposing his neck. He wanted Simon to bite him, to mark him. Something physical to last after this moment. Proof that they were something more, not just partners, sergeant and lieutenant, teammates. 

Simon grabbed his face and pulled him back into a kiss. Johnny’s vision went white, his last breath caught in his chest. He came in his hand. Simon groaned and shuddered, pushing himself as deep as he could before following suit. 

They did burn dinner. It didn’t matter to Johnny. They kissed until Simon went soft inside him. 

He’d never been happier in his life. 

“You moaned his name last night,” She said, taking a sip of her tea. Her eyes never left him. “I’m not jealous or anything… I miss Arthur sometimes too.”

“What were you doing with a twat like that anyways?” Johnny asked, changing the subject. It was a rude question. He didn’t know what actually happened. Price didn’t like him but she might have. 

“Normalcy.” She shrugged. Her face fell, her normal look of neutrality turned to sadness. “He seemed nice at the time.”

She pouted and set her cup down harshly, sloshing tea.

“I didn’t want to kill him.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“He’d never gotten physical before. We’d yell all the time but that night he just grabbed me and was shaking me.” She stood up, grabbing her cup and plate. “I’m not strong. I can’t fight. I was only able to kill him because he didn’t think I could. I could barely get his body off me.”

She left her things in the sink and left. He didn’t mean to poke a wound. He did the dishes. 

She was the one to make contact again. He was half paying attention to some eastenders rerun when she came up behind him and wrapped herself around him.

“I’m sorry for bringing him up,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“You’re okay. I know you're curious.” He reached around to stroke the back of her head. “I’m sorry for bringing Arthur up.”

She hugged him tighter. 

“I won’t ever touch ya like that, Nina. I won’t let anyone else do it either.” He and Simon hunted those types of men for a reason. He didn’t see Nina as helpless but she was right, she wasn’t strong. Her teeth were her only weapon and those could be broken easily. She had a hunting rifle stored in the upstairs closet. He’d get ammo for her before he was deployed again. Have her keep it under the bed instead. 

He kissed her, falling backwards to trap her on the couch. She laughed. He liked that she always wore dresses. Made it easier to kiss up her legs. The fabric shrouded his head as he licked up her cunt. Pink floral bunched up at her hips as he thrusted into her. 

They spent most of their time together fucking either that or watching a some dumb movie until that also devolved into fucking. It wasn’t out of pure lust. He liked the after more than the actual act. Being able to hold her to his chest, the smell of vanilla and sex filling the room. Sometimes cedar as well.

He knew Simon would come by to watch them sometimes. He’d resisted punching him in the jaw for it. He did miss him. He did dream about him. Dreamt about him and Nina together. 

Simon behind him, Nina under him. Naked, clothed, covered in blood; it depended on the night. Any time he watched Simon leave, he wanted to call out to him. The three of them together could make it work. Teach Nina to hunt, have a safe place to live. Less camping in fields, more nights in the living room by the fireplace. 

He liked this house and Nina but he missed Simon. Whatever life they were building didn’t feel complete without him. 

“I’ll go get us something to eat, yeah?” He said, pushing the hair from her face. Hopefully something fresh, even an animal would do. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” She asked, kissing his cheek. 

“No. It’s easier when I’m alone.” He wasn’t skilled enough to bring her with him. Killing was easy, yes but getting someone alone, doing it unseen was harder. He grabbed his coat, gloves, boots and the old ghost team balaclava. “I’ll be back soon.”

It wasn’t soon. Four hours later he tore into the driveway, a dead man in the backseat and a knife in his gut. He didn’t even realize he got stuck till he tried to lift the corpse up. He couldn’t leave the body. Luckily his car was close. He’d fucked up. He barely made it back. He leaned against the horn, holding pressure around the blade. He had no idea how deep it was. 

“Nina!” His voice was hoarse. Would she even reach him? Would be disposed of the same way as Arthur? Would Price burn his car and dump his body in the sea? 

He hoped she’d eat him. 

He saw the front door open, his eyes squinting from the light. 

“Johnny!” She smelled like vanilla. Her arms hooked under his as she tried to drag him out of the car. “Just keep pressure on it. Oh god.”

The gravel of the drive scratched against his legs. They collapsed into the foyer. Nina rolled him onto his back. She teleported around with every blink. 

Her hand against his cheek anytime he closed his eyes for too long. She cut off his shirt. 

“Oh fuck. Oh my god.” She looked horrified. “I can’t take it out. Johnny it’s deep. I…I don’t know what to do.”

The ceiling light made a halo around her head. 

“M’sorry.” He didn’t know if she could even hear him. He tried to focus on her face. There was blood on it, his blood. Her hands were red. She turned away from him. No, come back. He wanted to look at her. He wanted to see something beautiful when he died. He was dying. He was going to die.

“I can’t stop the bleeding. Please, help me,” She was begging to something unseen. A larger pair of hands covered hers. 

“Get disinfectant and a belt!” Simon barked at her. He could hear Nina run away. “Needle and thread!”

The familiar scent of cedar filled his head. Cedar and vanilla. It was wonderful. 

Simon and Nina had the same eye color, he thought. Big brown eyes. He loved their big brown eyes. 

“Stay with it, Johnny. You’ll be alright,” Simon’s bloodied knuckles brushed against his cheek. His eyelids were heavy, the world was slowing down, getting darker till the only light in the world was in that foyer. 

“Nina! Hurry!” Simon yelled. 

The light went out. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree

Comment or DM me if you want to be added 🥀

[cafedanslanuit]

sometimes ending a relationship is the only way to help each other. at least that’s what you tell yourself on your way back home to your fiancé.

♡   —   pairing: reiner braun x reader / zeke jaeger x reader (mentioned but not described)

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, suggestive but not explicit, cheating, angst, canon compliant, toxic relationships (not romanticized)

♡   —   a/n: heavily inspired by miley cyrus’ ‘angels like you’, hence the title.

♡   —   length: 2.2k

♡   —   masterlist

Liberio at night was never a pretty sight.

As you walked home, you noticed all the small details you never took the time to see. The puddles of sewer water on the streets, the stench of urine in the corners close to bars and the sound of rats running around, too afraid to come in the light. Your thighs hurt every step you gave and you couldn’t ignore the burning sensation between your legs. Memories of grunts and your nails digging on a man’s back flooded your mind, making you shake your head in a vague attempt to get rid of them.

You knew well you couldn’t ever get rid of them.

You thought of everything that led you to Zeke’s office late that night. Of course, it was about delivering some documents that could have been delivered the next morning and staying for a cigarette even if you had quit smoking years ago. And before you knew it, Chief Jaeger was fucking you on his desk, your legs around his waist, his forehead pressing to your shoulder and his hands grabbing your ass as he roughly pounded against you.

You wished there was a part of yourself that truly believed you didn’t know this was coming, that you hadn’t let your skirt rile up when you crossed your legs neither smiled bashfully at Zeke’s compliments about how beautiful you looked that night. You wished there was a part of you that was really attracted to him, a part of you that really wanted him to fuck you seneseless and leave you a sweating mess over his desk as he pulled up his pants.

But you knew better than that.

You opened the door to your small house, not bothering in turning on the lights. Maybe this was for the best, you told yourself. It was the best decision you could make. Well, it had to be, or else you had broken a man without a purpose.

On your way to your bedroom, you noticed a new framed photo on the wall, making you stop in your tracks. You remembered taking it a little more than a week ago and you figured it must have been delivered while you were gone. Reiner, his mom and you were smiling at the camera and if you hadn’t known both Brauns as much as you did, you could have sworn their smile was genuine.

Your eyes fixated on Reiner’s soft expression, one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one over his mom’s. He had barely talked to you since returning from his long mission in Paradis, refusing to answer any of your questions regarding how he was feeling or what had happened during the years he was gone. Reiner had never been one to share too much. You still remembered how long it took him to tell you the truth about his absent father on an Autumn afternoon, his face pressed on your thighs, his shoulders shaking violently as he told you the truth that had been tormenting him for years. You were twelve, just one year older than him, yet you listened and ran your fingers through his blond locks, trying to comfort him the best way you knew. Four years passed by and every night you would pray for his safety and that he would return to you. You knew he was a warrior and that he was good at what he did but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you just wanted him to rest. 

The first time you saw Reiner after his mission in Paradis, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. No matter how tightly Reiner held you, assuring you he was in fact there and that it wasn’t another one of your dreams. He was hurried by his mother to leave you and go back to his home, which he did, not before asking you to meet him at your spot at midnight.

Reiner was your first kiss. And how happy you were that you had waited for him.

As short-lived as your romance was before he had to leave for war again, you couldn’t help but notice the weight over his shoulder had only increased. Only this time, he wouldn’t talk about what he saw or experienced at the island. You tried to be understanding, even if it pained you to see his disassociated eyes look at the horizon whenever he was too much in his head.

Before Reiner went to war, he promised he would marry you when he got back. You had smiled brightly between tears and told him you would wait for him, no matter how long he took. Both of you kept on your promises, with him buying a small house inside of Liberio just for the two of you and you organizing a small but lovely wedding that would happen in a few months.

That was supposed to happen in a few months.

Now you wondered where it was that you lost him. Had a part of him died in Paradis? Had it been the war that had finally sent him over the edge. You weren’t sure. All you knew was that the Reiner sleeping on your bed wasn’t the boy who had cried on your lap anymore.

Not having enough with dancing around your questions about his feelings, he also expected you to act like he wasn’t having nightmares every night. That you didn’t see him sitting up with a panicked expression, covered in sweat. Whenever you tried to reach for him, he would elude your touch, not even caring to acknowledge your questions about what he had dreamt about or how you could help.

He hadn’t shared a word with you after coming back home from your engagement celebration. Even if the whole afternoon he had his arm around your waist and would press kisses on your forehead and temple at any moment, it all went away when he stepped inside your new home.  You still remembered the knot in your throat from when he refused your offer to have some tea on your balcony, just the two of you. Reiner turned to leave so quickly he didn’t notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what happened on that island and you probably would never know but you were sure the man who you had been sharing a bed with wasn’t Reiner anymore.

Your eyes looked at Mrs. Braun in the photo, a sour taste filling your mouth. Even if her smile was gentle, you couldn’t easily forget that only a few minutes before the photo, she had told Reiner you were just an orphan trying to profit from his warrior status and that he should break the engagement, that a promise he made when he was sixteen meant nothing. Reiner’s eyes met yours for a brief second and just when you thought he was going to say something to defend you, he lowered his head, continuing to listen to his mother’s yells while she pretended you were not in the same room.

You took the photo off the wall and placed it face down on the table.

Resuming your steps, you stepped into your bedroom. Reiner was sound asleep on your bed, the sheet not big enough to cover his brod, bare shoulders. For a minute, you just watched him sleep, taking in everything you had loved for years about him. From the way his brow creased to the small mole next to his ear, to the way his hair looked when it was messy. You hated the way his image made you smile even as you were about to lose him for good.

Taking a deep breath, you turned the lights on. Reiner’s light sleep was evident when he started blinking a few seconds later, a confused look on his face until his eyes met yours.

"I fucked Zeke tonight."

A truth. You thought it was always easier when you start with one. Reiner stayed still for a moment, his still confused mind trying to process your words. You watched him in silence, waiting for his response. He was never violent so you weren’t afraid but you knew that night everything was going to change.

Reiner passed one of his hands across his hair, letting out a long sigh.

"Okay."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You opened your mouth and then closed it, not believing you had heard him correctly.

"Okay?"

"I just want to sleep," he exhaled, laying his head on the pillow once again and closing his eyes. You took some steps further until you were standing next to him.

"Reiner, I fucked Zeke Jaeger in his office an hour ago."

"Yeah, you just told me," Reiner muttered, his eyes still closed.

That’s when it hit you. You took the sheets covering his body and pulled them away hastily, forcing him to open his eyes.

"Do you really not fucking care!?" you spat, your voice breaking at the end.

For a few seconds, Reiner remained quiet, not an inch of his body moving. You were breathing heavily, eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall. It was all coming down to this and a part of you still couldn’t believe this is how you were going to say goodbye. Was he truly the man you had loved for the last ten years? Did you really mean so little in his mind? You watched him sit up on the bed, his honey eyes finally facing yours.

"Of course I care that my fiancée slept with the Chief. Of course, I care, fuck— I hate it. I fucking hate it and I wish I could stop imagining it happening inside my head,” Reiner said, gesturing towards his temple, his voice hoarse and pained. “Because it is. Believe me when I say I keep replaying those thoughts in my head, over and over and over,” he hissed, his lips forming a thin line. “But why— why would I feel entitled to say anything when I'm the one that's been fucking things up with you?" he asked, his palm hitting his chest forcefully.

The tears you promised not to shed were already falling from your eyes, your face twisting in a scowl.

“We're not good for each other. We haven’t been for a while, Reiner. So please, please, lets just— we need to let each other go,” you pleaded.

“It’s not like that, we’re not— fuck,” Reiner sighed, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I am, I just— I can’t,” he choked.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him in a softer voice. Tentatively, you put your hand over his shoulder, rubbing it gently. You saw his body melt under your touch, his left hand immediately reaching for yours in search for comfort. “I’m not what you need right now, Reiner. We’re only hurting each other by playing this long game of pretend. And… I’m tired. I’m so tired,” you cried.

His hand squeezed yours in a vain attempt to calm you down. It only increased the sobs, making you remember all the times he had taken your hand underneath the table whenever he noticed you were anxious in a social gathering or kissed each one of your knuckles, making you laugh even when you had just been crying.

“Guess your mom was right when she told you I wasn’t good enough for you,” you chuckled sadly.

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, taking your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss on the back of your hand. Reluctantly, you pulled your hand away from his, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“But it’s true. I— I fucked up. I fucked up big time, Reiner. And now… now we’re done,” you breathed out, looking at your shoes. “We can’t just keep pretending everything is fine when—"

"Let's go to sleep.”

You choked on a sob, your eyes snapping back to his. “Reiner,” you whispered.

"I promise we'll talk in the morning. Just come here" he said, shifting on the bed to make space for you. You looked at the sheets, your body not moving a fraction. “Please,” he almost begged, his voice making your heart clench in pain.

You held on his powerful gaze, lips parted in dismay. Both of you stayed in silence for longer than you could register and even if he wasn’t talking, you could recognize the utter necessity of having you close in his eyes, even if he was aware of the lie you had fabricated together. You finally yielded and you looked away, nodding idly as you wiped the tears off your face. Your body and mind had surrendered one more time, just like you told yourself you wouldn’t.

"Let me take a shower first,” you muttered, taking off your coat.

"No," Reiner quipped. You turned to him, confused, and now he was the one to avoid your gaze. "I don't care, just... let's go to sleep.”

Kicking your shoes off, you got into bed with him, his arms around your body feeling so foreign you felt yourself on the verge of breaking down once again. Reiner buried his face on your neck, pretending he didn’t recognize the strong male perfume lingering on your skin, instead massaging the plush of your hips with his thumb softly.

"I love you," he whispered. Your eyes filled with tears once more.

"I love you too," you mumbled back.

You knew you both meant it.

Maybe that's what hurt the most.

[mythiccheroacademia]

My bad, I’m just now seeing the rules😭 I’ll choose shiguraki, dabi, and Hawks for the time traveling kids reaction

A/N: You’re all good baby! I kept looking at this trying to come up with a fitting situation for them and then I dreamt about being in all three situations last night??? lmaooo it was both terrifying and lucky hehe~ Hopefully, it’s as good as I’m imagining it

Side Note: I’m writing this with a baby (thankfully, but unfortunately, not mine!) on my chest. Get on my level. Jk, but everyone say hi <3

Warnings: Cursing 

Shigaraki Tomura:

you and shigaraki came back from your daily walks 

aka, people watching

and you two planned to play on the PS4 later

whiles you’re setting up the TV in the living room, he goes to his room to get the console and remotes

he opens the door, sees a baby on his bed, then immediately shuts the door

goes to you and kurogiri

him: “any of you know why there’s a baby on my bed?”

kurogiri: a baby? 😐

you: a BABY!!!?? 😍💞💞

you rush in there and to your amazement, there is a baby no more than six or seven months, gurgling on the bed

kurogiri is giving tomura the most judgemental look and shigaraki kinda feels embarrassed even though he swears he didn’t do anything

“please don't tell me it’s yours”

“i can assure you, y/n and i use prot--”

“oh my gosh, shiggy, she looks just like you with my hair and nose!”

kurogiri is over it 

tomura is malfunctioning

you’re gushing over the baby girl, totally ignoring the fact that a literal child, who just so happened to look like a perfect mix between you and tomura, just appeared like a sick magic trick

was it a quirk?

was it time travel??

did tomura knock you up and everybody just somehow forgot???

so many questions, so little answers

in order to keep from getting a migraine, everybody followed your train of thought and just went along with it for now

shigaraki was less than pleased that his plans with you had been scrapped

he spent the day going shopping (stealing) for diapers, getting formula, buying clothes, and buying toys

feeding the baby was annoying

changing her was a nightmare

shigaraki threatened to disintegrate the child if she puked on him one more time

but everyone just adores her

she’s such a cutie

her toothless smile just warms up everybody’s hearts

even kurogiri is smitten

the day ends with you, the baby, and shigaraki in his room, getting ready for bed

he’s grumbling bc “can’t we just leave her on the couch or something”

you ignore him and he’s forced to get in bed bc no matter what, he’d never give up the chance to cuddle with you...even if it is with some stupid baby

after she falls asleep, you sigh and lean on his shoulder

“you really think she’s ours?” you ask

he wants to say i hope not, but the way you look at him with all the hope in the world makes his heart tingle 

instead of answering, he softly kisses your lips and tucks the both of you in

when you both wake up, the baby is gone--probably back to her timeline

you're a little sad and shigaraki only says what he says NOT BC HE THINKS IT’S TRUE OR SOMETHING but bc your misery makes him itch

“don’t worry. i’m sure we’ll see the brat again someday”

Dabi:

when you came back to your apartment, holding a load of groceries, you were quite surprised to see the situation at hand 

in the middle of your living room was dabi, at his big ass age, wrestling with a kid that couldn't be older than 12 

least to say, you were pissed 

“come on, fess up you little runt. did my old man have another kid”

“for the last time, NO! i’m yours!!”

“stop lying! my pull out game is too strong for that”

“EW! get off of me you staple-faced, burnt chicken nugget lookin’ fu--”

that’s when you intervened

“chicken nugget lookin’ what?” you questioned, looking at the boy with the look™️  

 the boy’s expression went from angry to scared in 0.2 seconds

dabi’s kind of impressed

“father. i-i was gonna say father”

“oh, that’s what i thought bc if you were gonna say what i thought your were gonna say, then i’d have to whoop your ass. but you weren’t, correct?”

“no ma’am”

“so we’re good?”

“yes ma’am”

“perfect. now what’s this about him being your father?”

dabi is taking out of his smugness and flinches under the heat of your glare

you ask him one time who he slept with and when he tells you you're crazy, you lunge at him

your kid lets you get a couple of good hits in before he decides to drop the news that he’s you two’s son of three from the future

you pause, his hand on your face and your fist in his hair

“deadass?” dabi says 

the boy nods his head and you two take the time to look at him

his features are undeniably yours and dabi’s; he was one of those kids that if you sat them next to one or the other, they could look like both parents

you two take it better than he thought you would 

“i always knew you wanted kids with me. simp”

dabi can’t even deny it. he just rolls his eyes and acts all tough 

then he asks, “you sure you’re not gonna get erased from the time continuum by telling us?”

the boy shrugs “i mean...i hope not”

it’s beyond y’all at this point

so you spend the day with the kid, who was named after Dabi (Touya Jr.), and it’s so obvious he’s a momma’s boy 

he helps you cook, set the table, and wash the dishes 

smiles at you like you’re the entire world

dabi is kind of jealous from all the attention you’re giving him 

fumes at the middle finger junior sneakily flips at him 

does it back 

claims to hate the kid but wipes the crumbs off his lip without hesitation

junior got the itis and is down for a nap

calls you two mom and dad before falling asleep 

you get all 🥺 and even dabi is a little nostalgic when junior disappears 

it’s quiet for a moment and then he says, 

“wanna do a practice round in baby-making. yknow? for the future”

you roll your eyes but you aint say no! 

Takami Keigo (Hawks):

hawks didn't expect to see a tiny kid on the edge of a building on his day off

there wasn't a lot that scared him, but he couldn't deny the fear hammering against his ribcage as he saw the child look around before jumping

thank goodness his speed wasn’t just talk

he caught the girl who didn't look a day past six 

he’s in the middle of giving her a huge lecture about safety and mental health, she just giggles and gives him the biggest kiss on the cheek 

“haha! i knew you’d catch me if i fall, papa~”

he’s too angry to even register what she called him

“that was totally dangerous, kid! what if i hadn't seen you? then what?”

“then i would fly” she said like it was the most obvious thing

he’s dumbstruck as two beautiful white wings sprout out of thin air and allow her to float next to the hero with ease 

hawks blinks bc yeah anyone could have wings, but he could tell that feather pattern from anywhere

it was his 

it was like his own fingerprint was staring at him 

did he accidentally knock someone up bc that would be a big uh-oh

y/n wouldn't like that at all

he asks the child who he is to her and she repeats, “papa~”

he then asks who the mother was and she goes, “mommy~”

she’s not the brightest crayon in the box, that’s for sure 

“what’s mommy’s name, kid,” he asks with the patience of a saint

“Takami Y/N~”

“you’re coming with me”

flys across the city with conviction

you’re lying on your bed, face mask on and reading a book in peace before your oh so wonderful boyfriend comes crashing through your open window

you don’t even flinch. so used to his surprise visits, you close the book and sigh

“to what do i owe the great pleasure of having you break into my house? again”

hawks holds the cute girl up, squishing her cheek as she laughs from the adventure they just went on

“mommy!”

“surprise!”

this time, you drop the book

eventually, with some cupcakes and chicken, the little girl tells you two about how she went to play with some kid and got zapped by a quirk and ended up here 

you also find out she’s the youngest of four

you look a little sick but keigo gives you a shit-eating grin

he’s so excited about having a family with you

you can’t deny the tingle in your heart

parades the girl around the house and they’re both laughing the same laugh, eyes bright with joy

it makes your heart hurt and now you have to join into the shenanigans 

you spend the day playing games, doing face masks, and reading books to fall asleep to

when you wake up, she’s gone but keigo’s arms are still firmly wrapped around your waist

“so now that you know i’m gonna trap you with four kids, when are you gonna pop the question?”  you joke 

but hawks isn’t laughing. instead, he’s smiling at you in a way that makes your eyes widen

he digs in his coat and pulls out the ring

“i was gonna try and make it a little more romantic. but why wait? so, what do ya say to taking my last name?”

[iam93percentstardust]

Haii so i have a promot for you, it’s stuckony and it’s based around a carrie Underwood song called “ Renegade Runaway “

So basically Steve and Bucky are outlaw, who rob trains, banks, and gamble

Tony is a sharffes and teacher kid, who is also one hell of a gunslinger (like Doc holiday,bat masterson, and Wyatt earp), he’s also a blacksmith

Also happy early birthday! 💙

Thank you for the birthday wishes! This ended up being a lot sadder than I originally intended and I wasn't able to include everything, but I hope it still lives up to expectations!

As always, this fic is also on ao3

~

Tony has his pistol out almost before the door closes behind him. He peers into the darkness of the yard behind the smithy, silently complaining about his eyes taking too long to adjust from the bright fires to the gathering twilight. It puts him at a disadvantage for whoever is waiting out there for him.

“Aw darlin’, is that any way to greet your two favorite outlaws?” someone drawls.

Tony snorts and holsters the pistol again. “Two outlaws, you might be, but my favorites? Far from it,” he snarks.

Bucky Barnes steps into the light spilling out from the window, hand dramatically placed over his heart. “Tony, that cuts me to the quick. Really, the cruelty of your words, they break my heart.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, unimpressed. He turns his back on Bucky and locks the smithy door. Peter will leave through the front when he’s finished sweeping and extinguished the lights. Everything else is already stored in the backroom for the night, so there’s no reason he needs to worry about leaving the door unlocked, though he certainly could. Timely isn’t the sort of town that invites trouble, not like some of the lawless towns further west.

When he turns back around, Bucky has moved closer, nearly looming over him. Tony leans back against the door, letting Bucky press against him. Bucky will do it anyway, it’s easier to just give in to him now instead of putting up a fight they both know he doesn’t want.

“You gonna apologize for bein’ so mean?” Bucky breathes into his ear.

“No,” Tony says flatly, crossing his arms. “It’s the honest truth.”

It’s not. Nearly everyone in Timely knows Tony’s sweet on Bucky and his partner, who must be around here somewhere since Bucky mentioned both of them. But it wouldn’t do to be too easy for them. He’s not one of Natasha’s girls after all, giggly and flirtatious and willing to turn their skirts up for a little bit of coin. He likes to make his boys work to get him soft and smiling.

“Now that’s just an outright lie,” someone else says. Tony turns his head to see Steve’s bright blue eyes much closer than he’d expected given that he’d only sensed one of them in the yard earlier. “You love us.”

“Don’t,” Tony denies, turning his head in the other direction so he doesn’t have to see either of them. Steve may be right, Tony isn’t nearly as annoyed by them as he pretends, but loving the two of them makes his life so very hard that it’s easier to pretend he doesn’t have any feelings for them.

“Tony,” Steve murmurs.

Tony stubbornly refuses to look at them. These two outlaws waltz into town all too rarely, typically on the heels of some mess that’ll raise the rewards on their heads yet again, and turn Tony’s life upside down for the brief time they’re in Timely, only to break his heart when they inevitably leave. Sometimes, he wishes he’d never met them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers eventually, keeping his eyes fixed on the side of the saloon down the street. “The sheriff’s in town tonight. If he catches wind of you—you know Howard wants to be the one to bring you in.”

“Your father’s on a wild goose chase, honey,” Bucky says. “He got word we were hiding out in Howling Canyon.”

“Are you?”

“Do we look like we’re in Howling Canyon?” Steve asks amusedly.

“No. I meant when you’re not—” He stops, biting back the last few words. When they’re not in his bed, he means, but he can’t bring himself to say that. After an awkward pause, he finishes, “When you’re not in town.”

“No,” Steve assures him. “We’re staying—”

“Don’t tell me where,” Tony interrupts, finally turning back to look at them. They both look worried, and he wonders if they know how tired he is of this game they’ve been playing for five years. “You know I’ll have to tell Howard if he asks.”

Not that Howard would. The sheriff is one of the few people who doesn’t know that his son houses the two outlaws when they’re in Timely. He couldn’t even imagine that his son would dare defy him under his nose like that. But both Steve and Bucky know what happens when Tony doesn’t jump to Howard’s every order. They were the ones who took him to Dr. Banner’s after all, after Howard broke his arm for taking too long to finish the horseshoes for Jericho.

Steve’s eyes are stormy at the reminder of Howard’s wrath. Bucky’s mouth is set in a tight line. Neither of them approve of Howard. They’ve told Tony once before that they would take him away from here if only he would let them. But he won’t. There’s too much keeping him in Timely: his mother and Rhodey, even young Peter, who’s only been apprenticed to him for a few months. He can’t just go gallivanting off into the sunset, no matter how badly he wants to. And besides, he knows that the only reason they ask is so that he can get away from Howard. He doesn’t delude himself there. They’d let him go with them just out of range of Howard’s reach and then they’d cut him loose. It’s pity that makes them ask, not—not anything else.

“Just—” He sighs and ducks out from under Bucky’s arm. “Come on. Howard isn’t stupid. He’ll figure out you’re not in Howling Canyon eventually, and I’d like both your cocks at least once before he does.”

~

Tony once had aspirations of being one of the best gunslingers in the west. He had the best aim this side of the Mississippi and he was quick. He’d been planning on making a name for himself, same as his father had.

Bucky’s bullet through his left thigh had put an end to that dream real quick.

He’d been young—hardly even an adult—foolhardy, and unwilling to listen to Jarvis’ warnings that he wasn’t ready to take on Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who’d been terrorizing the towns in their small territory for the last three years. He’d been so convinced that he would be the one to bring them in and collect on the bounty. He’d studied their movements, known how they thought, and when Timely had gotten word that the two outlaws had robbed a bank in Faircreek, he’d ridden off on his own toward Harshaw instead of Tombstone like all the evidence pointed to.

He’d been right; the trail to Tombstone had been a false one. But he hadn’t had long to rest on his laurels because he’d been noticed. Steve and Bucky hadn’t been as lax in their vigilance as he’d assumed and they’d lain in wait for him, ambushed him, and ultimately shot him.

To this day, he doesn’t know what drove the two outlaws to take him in instead of leaving him out there to die in the desert, but they had. They’d carefully nursed him back to health, taken care of him when his injury had led to fever, and eventually, after nearly two months together, brought him to their bed with sweet words and sweeter kisses. He’d thought he would have done anything for them after that night, but the next morning, they’d sent him back on his way to Timely with nothing more than a promise that they’d be dropping in to check on him. It had been kind, though the damage had already been done. Tony’s injury ensured he’d never be the gunslinger he’d once dreamt of and his heart had been shattered. He’d apprenticed with Happy, taken up blacksmithing as a trade, and moved out of his parents’ home and into a small house not far from the smithy as his bad leg kept him from walking any great distances.

And when Bucky and Steve had kept their promise and stopped by his house to see him, well, his resolve to send them packing had withered. He’d made sure no one had noticed them and welcomed them inside, his poor heart still beating against his ribs in the pattern of their names.

~

They love him, he thinks, or at least they love him as best as they can, which is to say they don’t love him as much as he loves them. They certainly don’t love him enough to take him with them. And he understands—he does, despite what Rhodey thinks. His bad leg is a hindrance to outlaws such as themselves, particularly when it isn’t like they have a home base they could leave him out while they go out to commit whatever crime has struck their fancy. No, they’ve been nomads for as long as Tony has known them, never tied down to any one place, and he’s grateful that they at least love him enough to stay in this area instead of moving on to greener pastures.

He checks that the street is clear and then hurries them into his home. It’s changed slightly since the last time Steve and Bucky were in Timely. Pepper gifted him with a rug to go in front of the fireplace six months ago and Peter’s aunt made him a series of sketches of the view from the top of Howling Canyon that he hung in the kitchen. But other than that, the house is much the same as it’s always been, and he isn’t surprised when neither Steve nor Bucky pay any attention to the changes in favor of following him to the bedroom.

They strip him in silence, hands so gentle he’d call them reverent if he didn’t know any better. But he does know better. They don’t love him enough to be reverent. Reverence is saved for each other, for how Steve looks at Bucky in the early dawn when he thinks they’re both still sleeping, for Bucky saving Steve an extra cup of coffee, for the way they know how to tack each other’s horses just as well as they know their own. Reverence isn’t saved for him.

But he treats themreverently. He’s always treated them that way, since the night they took him to their bed. He’s never known any other way to love. They had been his first, the ones to ruin him for all others, and a small part of him hates them for that even as he kisses them hungrily, savoring these few moments he gets to spend with them.

He goes to his knees for them, worships Bucky’s cock with his mouth while Steve undresses, then lays down for Steve to open him up. He lets them fuck him, moans their names while they whisper praises in his ear, and pretends that this is enough, that he doesn’t want more. He imagines it though, imagines Steve lifting him onto Nomad and following Bucky out of town, never to return.

Bucky falls asleep when they’re done—he always does—so Steve is the one who stands and finds a washcloth from somewhere in the house. He wipes the three of them off and then lays down on his side, facing Tony.

“You’re sad tonight,” he says quietly.

“No,” Tony denies. He doesn’t want them to know that he wants more, that he’d do just about anything to get it. They’ll only feel bad that they can’t give him what he wants, like it’s any fault of theirs.

“You are,” Steve insists. “You try to hide it, but you are.”

“Steve…”

“I won’t ask you.” Steve’s own eyes are sad as he reaches out to run delicate fingers over Tony’s face. “I know you wouldn’t tell me anyway. That’s okay; you’re entitled to your secrets, sweetheart.”

There’s something terribly earnest in Steve’s expression, something that Tony doesn’t think he’s seen before. And he’s so close to blurting it out, begging Steve for something he can’t have. He swallows the words back with difficulty and asks instead, “What did you two do this time?”

Steve shrugs as best as he can. “A train.”

“A—” Tony stills. “You didn’t. Steve, you couldn’t. You’ll bring the Marshals down on your heads.”

“Had to,” Steve says casually. “Was the only way to get enough.”

“Enough what?”

“Gold,” Bucky says from behind him, startling him.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but his breath comes faster as he realizes just what they’ve done. “You didn’t,” he repeats, sitting up. He scrambles to the end of the bed, as far away from Steve and Bucky as he can get. The outlaws sit up as well, leaning against the headboard as they watch him warily. “What were the two of you thinking? No, don’t answer that. I know exactly what you were thinking: you weren’t. Because if you were, you would have known better. Forget the Marshals, you’ll bring the whole damn army down on your heads. How could you have been so stupid?”

“We were thinking we’d like to get a house,” Steve says, cutting him off.

“A—a house?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky agrees. “We found ourselves a little patch of land in California we’d like to settle down in. Needed one last robbery to get us enough money to buy it.”

Tony’s heart stops beating, he swears it does. “California,” he repeats faintly.

“Sure, they’ll never think to look for us in California.”

Bucky sounds so calm, as though he can’t see that Tony’s heart is breaking in front of them. How can he be so cruel? How can he just causally mention that they’re leaving him forever, as though the last five years mean nothing to them?

“When are you leaving?” he manages, and it shocks him how calm he sounds when he feels as though his grief is visible from the stars.

“Tomorrow,” Steve says. There’s something careful in the way he looks at Tony, like he at least might have some idea of what’s going through Tony’s head.

Tony repeats, “Tomorrow.” He nods, blinking furiously to try to clear his eyes of the treacherous tears he can feel welling up. He can’t let them know. They’re leaving tomorrow and he doesn’t want them to go. He knows it would have happened eventually. The lawless west is shrinking more and more each day. It’s only a matter of time before the law catches up to them. Their only option is to leave and go somewhere no one knows them. But does it have to be so soon? He’d thought they would have more time.

“So this is goodbye, then,” he says, twisting the bedcovers in his hands. He can’t look at them, too afraid they’ll know what’s racing through his head if he does.

“…Goodbye?” Steve asks. He sounds puzzled. Tony hates that. What right does he have to be confused? That’s for Tony, seeing as how he’s the one who’s been left out of the loop during all this. God above, how long have they been planning this? It must have been at least a year in the making.

“Yes, goodbye,” he says. “One last fuck to see you off, right?”

“One last… Tony,” Bucky says sharply, “do you think we’re plannin’ on leavin’ you here?”

Tony’s heart stops for the second time in as many minutes. “You’re not?” he asks, daring to peek at them. Steve looks horrified, Bucky thunderous as he leans forward to tug Tony into his arms. Tony doesn’t resist, too tired of pretending, too confused by the twists this conversation has taken to argue. Steve curls up against Bucky’s side, carding gentle fingers through Tony’s hair.

“Sweetheart, did you think we weren’t gone on you?” Steve asks, kissing his forehead. “We’ve been fallin’ for you since you figured out where we were goin’ and chased us down.”

“But you never asked me to come with you.”

“S’pose that’s my fault,” Bucky says gruffly. He gingerly touches the scar on Tony’s leg where Bucky’s bullet had ripped through him. “We saw how much pain you were in an’ we couldn’t bear to make it any worse. An’ that’s just what would have happened if you’d spent every night out there with us. We wanted to keep you safe, thought you’d be happier if you weren’t always in pain.”

“I wanted you,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw. “I didn’t want to be left behind.”

“Yeah, we, uh, we get that now,” Steve mutters sheepishly. “Tony, say you’ll come with us this time. Don’t make us go off on our own this time. We want you to come, can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.”

He should argue. He should remind them that in the five years they’ve been riding off and leaving him at home, he’s built a life. He has a business and an apprentice and a little house that he likes. He’s not the wide-eyed child he once was, dreaming of adventure. But then, neither are Steve and Bucky, if they really do mean that they’re going to get to California and settle down.

“Darlin’?”

~

The next morning, Peter arrives at the smithy to find the backdoor locked and the fire cold. He frowns; it’s not like Tony to still be home at this hour. He turns on his heel and heads to Tony’s house. It’s as dark as the smithy is though it doesn’t look like anything is out of place.

Tony is nowhere to be seen. He wonders for an instant if Tony spent the night at Rhodey’s, as he sometimes does when it’s been too long between Steve and Bucky’s visits (though Peter isn’t supposed to know anything about the outlaws). He turns to leave, planning on heading over to Rhodey’s to ask if he’s seen Tony this morning, only to catch a glimpse of something on the kitchen table, glinting in the early morning sunlight pouring in from the door.

Curious, he wanders over to find a single gold coin—and a letter addressed to him. Peter immediately pockets the coin and then opens the letter. It’s written in Tony’s messy scrawl and he reads it eagerly, hoping it’ll tell him where Tony’s gone.

Peter,

I hope you’ve spotted this. The coin is for you. Under the bed, there’s a pouch full of more coins, but those are for Happy. They should be enough to drag Happy out of the quiet life to finish your apprenticeship. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay, but it was time to move on.

If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I’ve run away to California.

Tony

[gravityunforgiven]

Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)

Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade

Synopsis:

She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?

...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?

Feel free to reblog!

Chapter Five

When Tsunade stepped outside the casino, she was frozen in her steps. She knew almost instantly that Akira was close by. She could still feel the faint but lingering presence of her chakra.

Akira’s here. She’s here.

There was no way Tsunade could have possibly mistaken Akira’s chakra for someone else’s. She may not have have seen her for a decade but Tsunade could never forget the familiarity of Akira’s presence. She knew it like the back of her hand. 

Akira’s chakra has always been a little different than of a normal shinobi largely due to the fact that wasn’t like the rest of them either. The uniqueness of her chakra was hidden in plain sight and would have been very obvious if one knows what to look for. 

By each passing second, Tsunade could feel herself sobering up. The sudden realization that her daughter was in such a close vicinity caught her off guard. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions she had been trying to ignore for the past ten years. 

She wanted to see her. 

She had been meaning meaning to see Akira so many times in the last years that she had lost count of them. She had even gone as far as to reach the outskirts of their village only to turn back around and run for the hills. Tsunade just couldn’t face Akira. She was scared of what awaits her once she returned home, afraid of what Akira would say after she left her so many years ago.

She was terrified to be a burden for her daughter. It was never her intention to leave as long as she did, she only wanted to grieve properly and move on from Dan and Nawaki’s death but for some reason, a decade later, she was still grieving.

Tsunade didn’t exactly know what she was doing but she somehow found herself roaming around the unfamiliar village for the last person keeping her alive.

Just a glimpse. Just a glimpse then I’ll be gone. Tsunade kept repeating the words to herself. She had continously kept tabs on Akira through Jiraiya but there was nothing like seeing her in the flesh. 

Tsunade was well aware of the fact that she had hurt her daughter and she knew that her sudden return would cause her only more pain. She just couldn’t do that again. She just wasn’t ready to put Akira through all of that all over again. 

Though Tsunade could easily discern Akira’s chakra from a specific distance, she was certain that it was not the case for her daughter. Though it was clear that Akira was blessed with a remarkable skill in chakra control like her mother, Akira was just too young to remember Tsunade’s chakra. She was just so young.

It wasn’t long until Tsunade found her sitting on the bar of a sushi shop. Tsuande’s breath was caught in her throat. For a moment, the world around her disappeared and all she could see was her daughter. She was sitting on her own, her back faced Tsunade but there was no doubt in Tsunade’s mind that it was Akira. 

She knew it was her.

Her hair that used to reach her waist as a child now fell just a little past over her shoulder in waves of light blonde, a familiar Konoha issued cloak hung neatly on the back of her chair but Akira’s gaze was worlds away. She spun a chopstick in between her fingers as she stared at practically nothing.

Tsunade realized Akira was here on a mission. Tsunade almost scoffed at herself for thinking otherwise. Of course, she’s here on a mission. What was I expecting?

She would never admit it even to herself but a part of her still hoped that her worst fears hasn’t become a reality. Throughout the years, Jiraiya had relentlessly assured Tsunade that there was no reason for her to believe that Akira loathed her. He had told her that Akira understood why her mother left but she knew deep down that Akira must have hated her for leaving. She hated herself for leaving.

 What she did was cruel and selfish. But it was better than dragging Akira down with her to a pit of endless grieving and what ifs.

She had her glimpse of Akira. She had with her own two eyes how Akira had grown into an astonishing young woman. Tsunade knew she should leave. It was obvious that Akira was better off without her but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She knew she was being selfish yet again. Akira deserved so much better than her, she deserved a mother who can take care of her and not someone who needed taking care of.

Tsunade knew that the right thing to do was to keep her distance and she wasn’t sure if it was the  alcohol or just her but she found herself weaving hand signs and masking her appearance before closing the gap that separated her from her daughter. 

She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do when she sat on the stool next to Akira but the words came out of her mouth without her permission.

“You’re a long way from home.” Akira stopped mid-sip from her drink and looked at her right where the voice came from and found a woman clearly in her late 50s with graying hair and a smirk. 

For the second time that night,Tsunade’s breath was caught in her throat. When Akira’s eyes pierced into her own, for a split second, she saw Dan’s face instead. Even when Akira was young, people had told her how much they looked similar but seeing at her now, Tsunade thought how wrong all of them were. Akira had always been so much like Dan than she was of her. They just didn’t know him enough to see. 

Akira blinked a couple of times in confusion, unsure if she was the one being talked to by the unfamiliar woman. “I’m sorry?”

Instincts were suddenly taking over Akira’s entire body. She discreetly checked the shuriken holster on her left leg just in case the woman attacked.

“You’re Tsunade’s daughter.” She said as a matter of fact then casually orders a dish from the menu.

“Oh, no.” A defeated sigh escaped Akira’s lips. I know where this is going. She had encountered this conversation too many times than she wanted to remember. The resemblance between her and her mother kept giving away their relationship to the people Tsunade had a debt to.

“She owes you money doesn’t she?”

The woman chuckled, the lines on her face becoming more visible as she did so. “ She does actually.”

Akira shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m not paying for her.” Akira was definitely curious about the woman now. She seemed familiar, like they’ve met somewhere before though Akira was absolutely certain this was the first time she had ever seen the lady.

“Do I know you?” Akira’s eyes narrowed amd Tsunade’s heart skipped a beat.

“I used to know when you were younger.” That wasn’t exactly a lie in Tsunade’s part. She did know Akira as a child. Not anymore. The person sitting right next to her was completely different from the child who bid her goodbye on the village gates. That child was oblivious, unaware, still free from the gravity of her duties. This girl, no, this woman she was seeing bled of confidence and grace in ever action. Tsunade could see from her face how she had embraced her responsibilities wholeheartedly despite its burden. She had grown into someone Tsunade could only dream of becoming.

“Really?” Akira’s right eyebrow arched this time, still suspicious. So, Tsunade, still enamoured by the presence of her daughter, continued her cover story. She told her stories, facts only someone from the village would know and things no one would have known if they didn’t see Akira grow up. And true enough, Akira was convinced of her identity.

For what seemed like only a few minutes for Tsunade but hours in reality, the two exchanged stories with each other. It was much easier this way. To Akira, she was just a retired shinobi traveling the world, not someone living a life full of regrets. She told her stories of her time as a shinobi, the adventures, the missions, something she never had the chance to do when Akira was younger as she did not fully understood yet what it takes to become a shinobi. Still, she was careful to keep her cover on and noticed that Akira never mentioned any names. But still, it didn’t took long for Akira to succumb into the familiarity of the elder lady.

She didn’t have a lot of women in her life growing up. She had her friends for sure but Rin was gone, Kurenai was just only a few years older than her and even Kushina was not much older either. They were like her older sisters and Biwako Sarutobi became her honorary grandmother. The fact that the two most important women in her life died at the same night didn’t help at all. She didn’t have anyone to buy clothes with or talk to when her budding romance with Kakashi at the time became all too confusing. She went through all of these alone. Of course, she had Jiraiya but despite being the writer the Make Out Series, there were things only a fellow woman can understand.

As the older lady continued to speak next to her, Akira wondered if this is what it felt like to have a mother. The shinobi in her told her to shut up, pack her things and leave the woman who literally showed up from nowhere. She reminded herself that genjutsu was not exactly her strong suit but the other part of her was a little too assured that this woman was harmless and she was technically part of her old life. She was just so kind and she listened and laughed with her.

 They talked about the village and how much it has changed over the last few years. Tsunade told her abour her travels and the places she had visited and it came to her knowledge that Akira had dreamt to travel sthe world as well. Not for missions, but for herself. When Tsunade asked asked what was stopping her, Akira’s answer was short but it was more than enough for her to see the dedication that she has for the village. Like her father. 

“I guess I want to protext my people more than anything.” She answered with a shrug and a smile. Tsunade knew she meant each word from the look in her eyes alone. Akira told her how protecting the village was what she wants to do the most not because she needs to,but because she wants to. There was nothing else she would rather be than be a protector of her home.

“So you want to become Hokage, then? Is that what you want too?” Do you have his dream too?

Akira’s laugh filled the air. “No.” she chuckled. “I don’t really like paperwork.” This made Tsunade laugh herself. She guess that Akira had seen the mountains of paperwork from the Third Hokage and it did not look appealing to her either.

“ I prefer protecting the village from the outside. Besides, I’m better off at field work anyway.”

“Captain?” Their converstaion was interrupted by two seemingly normal shinobis to the normal eye but their all too familiar black cloaks immediately gave away their identities to Tsunade.

ANBU.

Akira quickly excused herself from their conversation and headed out. Tsunade was well aware of the fact that Akira had joined the ANBU at an age younger than what everyone was accustomed to but she was never informed that Akira had become a team captain. Both she and Jiraiya had been against the idea of Akira being an ANBU knowing how dangerous the missions they were sent to are but there was really nothing anyone could do when Akira sets her mind to something. All they could do was to watch and pray that she would come home every time.

The three talked in hushed tones but Tsunade heard enough to perceive that whatever their mission is, it was not going as planned. 

There was a moment of silence between the three as Akira contemplated what their next move would be.

“Tell the others we’re moving out on the first light.” Her command was curt but spoken with absolute finality. 

When Akira returned to her seat, there was a noticeable change in her mood. “Mission’s not going well, huh?” Tsunade asked though the answer was more than obvious by the look in Akira’s face.

Akira let out a deep and frustrated sigh. “I don’t really like long-term missions.”

“Someone waiting for you back home?” Tsunade took her chances and asked. She wondered if Akira had had the chance to fall in love yet. She hoped that Akira hadn’t yet as she wanted to be there for her daughter when she starts dating but the deep flush of red quickly spreading across Akira’s cheeks told her otherwise.

Oh.

Akira contemplated for a second wether she would divulge that information to the still annamed woman but before she could tell herself to stop, s smile was already forming on her lips.

“There is, actually.”

Man, I really should shut-up now.

Tsunade could see a gleam in Akira’s eyes as she told her how much this man means to her. All her worries from her mission seemed to disappear with the mention of the man. She looked incredibly happy and for that, Tsunade was beyond grateful. 

If you ever find yourself in the Land of Fire, You should come by to the village. I think he would love to meet you.” Akira says as she gestured for the bill.

Tsunade would love to meet him as well knowing that she is forever indebted to this person for bringing joy into her daughter’s life. 

The two women reached for the bill at the same time, and for a split second, their skins touched. All Tsunade could think about was heat.

Akira’s skin was abnormally hot against her. The medic ninja in her was sure that Akira had a fever of at least a hundred at the bare minimum. 

“I got this. It’s the least I could do for my mother.” Akira says, pulling out a couple of bills from her wallet.

“You’re sick.” Tsunade placed a hand on Akira’s forehead and confirmed that she was warmer than usual. 

Akira looked at her in confusion before dismissing her with a laugh. “I’m always warm.” She grinned. “That’s just me.” 

Tsunade knew it must have been an effect of being the Okami’s reincarnation she had developed while growing up. It wasn’t like this when Akira was a child or she would have instantly noticed it. 

Questions as to what else Akira may have developed plague Tsunade’s mind but she never had the chance to ask Akira because she was once again caught off guard when Akira placed her own Konoha issued cloak around Tsunade’s shoulders.

“Here. Looks like you need it more than I do.” Akira adjusted the cloak on Tsunade’s shoulder and zipped it into place. 

“But it’s cold out-“

“I’m always warm remember?” Akira held the entrance curtains of the shop out of the way for Tsunade.

The two of them stood outside the shop where the moon was already shining bright and the streets were lit with street lights. 

“You know between the two of us, you have more chances in seeing my mother more than I do.” Akira started. She knew that it was incredibly inappropriate to ask a favor from someone she had just met and whom she refuses to grace with her name but she was desperate. She had to see her mother even for a moment.

Akira had made it a point to not talk about Tsunade whenever Jiraiya was around knowing ythat the man was also having a hard time dealing with his own feelings and juggling his time between fulfilling his destiny and fathering Akira as much as he possibly can.

This woman was her last chance in order to talk to her mother and sparing Jiraiya.

“So if you ever see her, can you do me a favor and tell her to come home?” Akira looked straight into the eyes of her mother and Tsunade saw right through her and into the sadness Akira was trying so hard to conceal.

“Tell her that I understand that she doesn’t owe anything to me but I need to know-“ Akira’s voice broke.

“Tell her I need to know if it was me.” Akira forced a smile in her face. “I deserve at least that.”

I need to know if she left because I was different. Because I wasn’t like the others.

“Okay?”

“Of course.” There was nothing else Tsunade could say before Akira gave her one last smile - a smile that would haunt Tsunade for the rest of her days- before disappearing into the night with the hopes of seeing the kind woman once again 

Tsunade was left on the street on her own ince again with only her thoughts to accompany her. Of all the possible scenarios that had ran through her head, never did she once imagine that Akira woulld blame herself for the decisions she made.

It was never Akira, It was always her who had the problem.

She had always been perfect to Tsunade’s eyes from the moment she was born. She was the one good thing that happened in Tsunade’s life. She was her miracle.

Tsunade promised herself that she would tell Akira that herself.

—————

Tsunade found herself standing outside the window of her daughter’s rented room, her eyes brimmed with tears as the gravity of what she had done all those years ago finally sinked in.  

Akira blamed herself for something she had nothing to do with.

Just a few feet away from her, her daughter laid fast asleep on the futon. She was curled into a tight ball, the duvet only covering her lower body and the pillow that her head was supposed to be resting on, lay discarded on the floor. 

Tsunade couldn’t help but smile. The familiarity of the scene she was witnessing felt right. It felt like home. She had done this thousands of times before, back when the woman in front of her was nothing but a baby that can fit right into her arms, then a young child whose abilities were one of a kind she posed a danger to her own, and now, a fine kunoichi who had already surpassed her predecessors in every aspect. 

Yet despite that, Tsunade can still see the child she loved more than anyone or anything in the world. She can still see Dan in her. Akira may indeed inherited her mother’s looks but there was so much of Dan that lives in her.

She knew deep inside what she had to do. She needed to stop this nonsense. Dan may have been gone but he left her the most precious gift anyone could ask for and she was so busy tending to her own grief that she didn’t see who needed her the most. 

Tsunade knew she needed to come home.

She needed to come home to Akira.

But she was a little too late.

Way too late.

—————

A/N: Thank you for all the support! I really appreciate them more than you can imagine.

[xtodorcki]

“Scarlet Eyes,” Kurapika x Reader

ship: Kurapika x FemReader

summary: Kurapika finds out that he isn’t the only one with scarlet eyes.

warnings: none just sadness and some fluff

.

.

.

It had come to a shock when Kurapika found out from his friends that they ran into another Kurta member, he thought they were mistaken and probably seen something that wasn’t obviously there but in the back of his head, he was desperate and was hoping that another one made it out alive like he did.

Gon and Killua had convinced him it was true. The two boys seeing the young girls eyes change right in front of them to a scary red as fear filled her very eyes. She ran off shortly after the encounter, she never meant for her eyes to change and she had kept them normal for a long time, trying to seal her identity so she didn’t get killed off as well because in her mind, she was the last member left too.

Kurapika had went to the area where the two young boys said they saw her, hoping for some kind of miracle he would see her, maybe even recognize her. Was it someone he knew? Or just another member he knew existed but didn’t know them personally. He fiddled with the chains on his hand, walking through the small town nearing midnight and looked up at the night sky.

He had given up the small piece of hope he had left in him. He didn’t know why he was overthinking this but maybe he thought this long lost member of the Kurta can save him from his lifelong hatred of the spiders. Or maybe she could take the guilt that weighed heavily on his heart, the blame he carried on his shoulders.

After the first night of looking for her, he never stopped. He kept going back to the same town she was seen, maybe she stayed and was hiding. Gon had remembered exactly what she looked like as well as the scent she carried and he was happy to help Kurapika find another member of his clan.

It had taken a few months but finally once Gon and Killua had departed and went their own way, Kurapika stayed in the small town. He got himself a small cottage, hoping he wasn’t wasting his time finding someone who doesn’t want to be found.

But one day in particular, he walked down the busy town to collect some supplies he needed, mostly food. He was carrying the bag on his shoulder before he seen a young woman purchasing items, she looked oddly familiar and the description Gon gave him was glued to his head as he stared at her. He was frozen, he didn’t know what to do. Was this the woman they were talking about? He had prayed to the Kurta gods this was her, he needed it to be her.

Once she was walking away, he was quick to follow her and practically spied on her the next few days before making the first move to talk to her. Today was the third day of seeing her, this time Kurapika had the courage to follow her to the end of the town where there wasn’t many people and stopped her.

“Excuse me-“ He spoke quietly, making her turn her head to look up at him and he was frozen again. Her beauty making him flush light pink as she had a small gentle smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, this is a weird question.” He continued, scratching the back of his head as his nerves started to kick in. should he just be blunt and ask her?

“Is there any chance you know about the Kurta clan?” He spoke low, just for her to hear. Even if she wasn’t the girl, she didn’t pose a direct threat to him and he knew that.

But her face gave it away as it drained with color and became pale. ‘they found me?’ she thought to herself and was prepared to run or defend herself but all Kurapika did was reach over and embrace her in a tight hug. He was breathless and she was stunned, why was he hugging her? she was quick to push him off her and had pulled out a small dagger she hid in her pocket.

“Who are you? Are you here to kill me?” She pointed it up at Kurapika, the tip of the dagger touching just below his chin and he shook his head quickly.

“I’m Kurapika.. I thought I was the last Kurta alive but you— how did you make it out alive? They were all slaughtered.” He gently spoke at her, looking around as people gave weird looks as she held the dagger at his throat.

She eventually dropped it down, gesturing her head for him to follow her as she walked through the wooded area, coming across the small cottage she was staying in with a large beautiful garden. He was in awe, not just with the garden but with her. She stopped in her tracks, turning around to look up at him.

“I thought you were killed when you made it out of the village. They said you were when the spiders came to murder us. My father had a built in hideout that was underneath the house, it was for emergencies since he always had a good hunch when it came to danger. He obviously didn’t make it in time but I did, I hid for hours, for days for someone to come for me.” She confessed, her eyes beginning to water at the flashback she had of coming out of the small hideout and seeing the clan brutally slaughtered with their eye sockets full of blood.

Kurapika stood there, he knew the feeling but he never got to see the clan or the village after the spiders burnt it to the ground— he simply heard of the murders on the television, he couldn’t imagine the horror you saw as his heart started to ache.

“I’m sorry, I wish I was there.” He admitted, getting a bit emotional himself.

“Be glad you weren’t. You were lucky, you got out.. there was nothing you could’ve done except walk into your death.” She sighed, turning her eyes to look away from his.

She knew of Kurapika, she seen him around back at the village when they were younger but she was never friends with him and she never could bring the courage up to go play with him and the other kids growing up. She always stayed to herself, stayed inside and helped her mother with the chores and learned how to cook then her father taught her how to defend for herself and survive incase tragedy striked. seemed he could tell the future, she always thought to herself.

Kurapika stood there in silence, the both of them staring elsewhere at the now sad reality they face while the traumatic flashbacks flood their heads once again. She noticed how stiff he was, how cold he seemed when his clan was brought up. She could tell by looking at him that he carried around the guilt and blamed himself for the clan being murdered, it was obvious.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.. it’s getting late, maybe if you want to stay.. for dinner? maybe talk or catch up? If there’s even anything to catch up on—“ She began to ramble on, not knowing what to say but not wanting to lose someone apart of her clan again.

Kurapika chuckled, nodding his head as he thought about it. They both felt the same way, not wanting to lose another Kurta member now that they found out it’s just the two of them. This made a spark ignite, having something in common that no one else can have or even relate to. Being apart of the Kurta clan was something very important to the both of them, especially now that they are the very thing that keep the clan non-extinct.

“I’ll love to stay, honestly I don’t think I can leave without at least making sure you’re safe..” Kurapika nervously fiddled with his chains again and followed her inside the warm cottage, feeling at peace already.

Obviously neither of them know a lot about each other but the bond the clan shared back when everyone was alive was unbreakable. The two stayed inside for the rest of the night, talking, eating, laughing as well as crying at one point when bringing up happy memories of the Kurta village. Kurapika hasn’t felt this peaceful since the clan was alive. He felt like he was at home. She felt the same way, she felt content and happy.

“Perhaps I should get going, I can always come back tomorrow to continue our conversation.” He yawned, standing up from the chair and she nodded quickly.

As she got up after him, she was quick to embrace him in a tight hug that caught him off guard but he swiftly wrapped his arms around her small frame and held her tightly and they held each other for a moment, afraid of letting the other go incase the spiders finish off the job and completely wipe the Kurta clan clean.

It was silly, there were both strangers but talking today they both feel like they’ve known each other for years— they kinda have in a way without really knowing.

They both pulled back, she smiled up at him and Kurapika gave her a genuine smile, something he hasn’t done in a while either. He walked towards the door, putting on his coat and he looked back at her, saying their goodbyes.

Kurapika walked down the wooded trail, his hands stuffed inside his pockets as the moon shined down on him. The whole walk to his place, he thought about her and not in a creepy way but in a way where he was glad he wasn’t the last Kurta, where he was glad to finally have someone who understands, who shares a lot in common with him, someone he could be close friends with.

He felt dumb for thinking about it too hard but this was just a once in a lifetime experience, something he always dreamt of— not being alone. he hated being alone, yes he had friends and he loved his friends but he just always felt empty, always felt like he was drowning and someone was holding his head under. Most nights he would cry, he would stare at the wall for hours instead of sleeping, feeling empty and defeated and feeling the guilt weigh heavily upon him.

But now that he has met you and knows you are in fact, a Kurta member, he finally slept peacefully for the first time in ages and same went with her, she slept for eight hours straight, Kurapika glued to her mind and thinking about how the clan would be proud of the both of them for finding one another.

You two are home now.

.

.

.

.

Thinking about making this into a series 🤔 kinda liked the way it turned out.

I accept requests plsssss!

• Masterlist

[johnsamericano]

“Corruption Pt. 4” w.y.h

Genre: College!au, angst, fluff, smut

Pairing: professor!lucas x fem!reader. Ft. Chenle

Warnings: this thing keeps getting shittier so 😗✌️

Summary: Lucas never thought of falling for a student, but from the first day you walked into de classroom you had him wrapped around your finger.

corruption m.list.

You sat down on the couch, watching your professor as he walked around your coffee table.

“You both know this goes against the rules. You could get fired.” He pointed at Lucas, who was holding your hand, rubbing circles over the back of your hand to soothe you. “And you could get expelled.” Lucas could feel your hands tremble the slightest.

“We know.”

“And then why are you doing this?”

“I guess because of love.” You smiled at your boyfriend whose eyes were sparkling as bright as ever.

“God, I love you so much.” Kun fake gagged at the sight of the sweet couple in front of him.

“I won’t tell anyone, but you need to be careful.” He grabbed his coat. “I’ll see you on Monday, y/n. Care to walk me out, Yukhei?” He nodded, abandoning his place beside you to walk him out.

“Kun, about my parents...” He said as soon as he’d closed the door behind him.

“I won’t say anything, but don’t you think it’s a little unfair for her? She’s risking everything for you, Lucas!”

“I know, just give me some time to figure things out, okay? I’ll find a way to convince them.”

“You should leave her before things get more serious.”

“I know I can fix it, Kun. I’m not leaving her.”

“I really hope you can, but please, don’t hurt y/n. I can tell you mean the world to her by the way she looks at you.” Kun patted his friend’s shoulder before walking away.

Lucas composed himself and went back in. He found you curled up on the couch, soft snores coming out from your mouth. He pulled out his phone, taking a few pictures of you. You looked so pure, so fragile. He was almost afraid to break you when he carried you to the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” He hugged you tightly. “I love you, so much.” He kissed the top of your head.

(...)

You moved uncomfortably between your boyfriend’s arms as you slowly woke up.

“You’re crushing my ribs.” Lucas had been awake for a while now, observing every single movement you made in your sleep.

“Too bad, I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” You lifted your head, your eyes meeting with his own.

“Did you cry?” Your delicate fingers touched the reddened are around his eyes.

“Maybe I did in my sleep?” He lied. “I dreamt you left me for one of your classmates. What a nightmare.” He snuggled into your chest, his nose tickling your neck.

“Stop it!” You giggled while trying to push him away.

“Oh, I’ve got a surprise for you.” His hand reached for his phone, unlocking it and proudly showing a picture of you as his wallpaper. “You looked so cute in my shirt, I couldn’t resist.”

You didn’t say anything, instead, wrapping your limbs around his body while kissing his neck.

“I love you.” You whispered while giggling.

‘She’s risking everything for you, Lucas.’

“I love you too.” ‘And I promise to make things right’ he mentally added. “Would you like some pancakes for breakfast?”

“Sound great.” You hummed, pulling him closer to your body. The room was so quiet that for a moment, you could hear his calm heartbeat.

“Come on, you’ll be my assistant today.”

After a few burnt pancakes and giggles, you sat down on the table, enjoying the comfortable atmosphere around you. That was until Lucas received a call.

“Hold on, I have to take this one.”

“Okay.” You kept stuffing your cheeks with the fluffy pancakes while he locked himself inside the bedroom.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey. Are you busy?” She cheerfully greeted.

“No, what’s up?”

“We’ve arranged a meeting for you to meet Yuqi. You’re gonna love her, she’s such a polite girl and-”

“I don’t want to do this, mom.” Mrs. Wong heart sank at her son’s saddened voice.

“I was just like you before I met your father, but not all arranged marriages are bad. Just give her a chance. Besides, if we keep postponing this, you’ll get older and it’ll be more difficult to find a suitable partner for you.”

“But what’s so wrong about being single?”

“Sweetie, just trust us, okay? We’ll be there next Friday. Love you.” And just like that, she hung up.

He came out of the room with a small frown replacing his usual smile.

“What’s going on?” You asked worriedly, abandoning your spot at the table to cup his cheeks. “Xuxi?”

“It’s nothing, baby.” He shrugged, forcing a smile to stop you from worrying. “Eat your pancakes, they’re gonna get cold.”

(...)

You sat down on a bench, using your break to read through a textbook, preparing yourself for your upcoming tests. The weather was nice, not too windy, not too sunny. ‘It’d be great to go out on a date with Lucas.’ You thought, immediately disposing the idea. It was Friday, the day you usually met with him. But he had cancelled your plans.

You stretched your legs on the large bench, immediately feeling your knees cracking from being on the same position for more than ten minutes.

“The school is so big, honey.” You faintly heard someone’s praising, not paying much attention to it until you heard a familiar voice.

“I suppose so.” You smiled to yourself, turning your head the slightest to catch a glimpse of him. 

He was walking beside an older woman, their arms intertwined. They looked alike, so you guessed it was his mom.

“What are we looking at?” The sudden presence of your best friend made you jolt.

“You’re so nosy.” You redirected your gaze to the book between your hands.

“Wanna do something tonight? I just received my pay from the coffee shop, I can treat you something fancy tonight.”

“Sounds nice. What time?”

“8:00, don’t be late, or else I’ll leave without you.” You hummed, your eyes going through the printed words.

After Chenle left, you looked up again, searching for Lucas. But he was already gone, probably giving his mom a tour around, you thought.

Chenle took you to a fancy restaurant, one that had recently opened near your campus. He was wearing a black button up shirt along with dressing pants.

“Looking good, Mr. Zhong.” You mocked when he picked you up.

The place was located at a rooftop, fairy lights decorating the dark night sky. There was some jazz music playing in the background, setting a calm mood.

“Good evening, may I offer you something to drink?” An elegant waitress offered.

“A bottle of your finest champagne please.” The lady nodded, walking away after giving you a brief smile.

“Your job must pay really well.”

“Nah, I’m just rich.” You playfully kicked him under the table. “Hey, isn’t that...” his eyes went wide. “No, never mind.”

“What?” He tried to stop you from turning around with all his might, but you ended up looking behind you.

Your face went pale as your eyes followed the couple in front of you. The female hugging his arm tightly.

“What is he doing here?” Lucas sat down in front of his companion, a beautiful woman with big eyes and curly hair.

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” But even Chenle knew it probably wasn’t.

You stayed silent, pulling out your phone to text him.

‘Where are you?’

Your gaze was fixated on his figure, watching him pull out his phone and clench his jaw as he saw your text.

‘I had to meet someone.’

‘Who?’

He didn’t reply, how could he? He hated the mere idea of lying to you. Your thumb moved automatically, pressing the small phone icon beside his contact name. He grabbed his phone once again, excusing himself to answer your call a few steps away from his table.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Who is she, Yukhei?” He lifted his head, looking around for you. A few seconds later, his eyes met your own.

“I can explain-” you hung up, not wanting to hear his lame excuses.

Your eyes started tearing up.

“Y/n, look at me.” Chenle reached out for your hand, his thumb caressing the back of it reassuringly. “Do you want us to leave?” You nodded. “You can leave first, I’ll wait for the waitress.”

Your feet found their way to the exit, not sparing Lucas a glance as you walked out. But he was quick to catch up with you.

“Sweetheart, this isn’t what it looks like.” His usually confident voice was now shaky as he spoke.

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice was so tiny, it broke his heart in a million pieces. “I gave you everything I could.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, just let me explain.” Luckily, your best friend arrived, pulling your arm gently so you were closer to him.

“Lucas, I believe your date is looking for you, and things would only get worse if she found out about your relationship with y/n.” Yukhei didn’t want to leave you, nevertheless, Chenle had a point.

He kneeled down in front of you, cupping your cheeks lovingly while memorizing the texture of your skin, in case it was the last time he touched it.

“I’ll explain it to you as soon as possible, okay?”

Chenle glared at him as he walked back in, leaving his broken girlfriend behind.

“Let’s get you some ice cream.”

[katsukawas]

- temporary

pairing - jean kirstein x reader

warnings - (slight) nsfw if you squint, a lot of angst, cheating, sub/insecure! reader, emotional manipulation

word count - 1.6k 

a/n - my first fic my god .. also i thought about this simply because of 2 things - jean kirstein and listening to billie eilish’s i love you while drowning in a vat of my own tears because of this week’s episode </3 i recommend listening to the song and reading the lyrics before starting to get in the mood .. just because i am a sadist. enjoy .. 

________________________________________

It’s not true.

You fought hard to keep your tears at bay as you painfully gulped that burning knot in your throat. Your vision of Jean across the road, enveloping another girl in his arms, turned blurry as tears welled up in your eyes. 

Tell me I’ve been lied to.

What you thought was an ordinary night of buying groceries quickly turned grim. There you were, dead in your tracks, clutching onto your bags of fruit. Your boyfriend of five years, Jean, was hugging another girl whom you had never seen before. Beautiful blonde hair, petite stature with her arms snaked around his waist like she was meant to be there. 

You began to question yourself if he had any other family you didn’t know of, besides his mother. He was an only child. He had never met his father, nor did he talk to any other relatives - if he had any. 

Crying isn’t like you.

All questions dissipated from your head as Jean dipped his head down to kiss the girl. 

Your mind went blank. A nauseating feeling crept up from within you and the taste of bile threatened to coat your tongue. Your legs began moving by themselves and you hastily turned the corner, hoping you weren’t noticed by anyone. 

As the cold wind harshly pricked against your skin, you allowed the tears that you were desperately trying to hold back run down your cheeks. 

What the hell did I do?

“I’m home!” Jean’s voice boomed through the apartment. The sudden loudness made you flinch and the fruit knife you were holding cut through the skin of your forefinger. 

You cursed in shock and dropped the knife on the cutting board. You heard hurried footsteps rush towards the kitchen. Jean burst through the door and called out to you, “What happened? Are you okay?” 

You turned to the sink and quickly washed the blood off your finger, nodding curtly. You couldn’t even bring yourself to say anything because you were too afraid of your voice cracking. 

You didn’t hear Jean slowly shuffle behind you. The pressure against your back made you jump. You froze as Jean wrapped his arms around your waist, the slight stubble on his chin lightly grazing your ear, “I’ve missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you at work.” 

You fought the urge to let the tears come once again. Lies. Everything was a lie. 

You looked down at your hand clutching the tap, not even noticing your knuckles turning white. Everything he once did that made your knees weak, now made every joint in your body tense. 

Never been the type to let someone see right through. 

Jean turned you around, your back resting against the counter. His eyes bore into you as he brought your injured finger up to his lips, “Let me kiss it for you.” 

This was too easy for him. Did he not have a single ounce of guilt in him? 

“Don’t touch me!” you shouted, clutching your hand to your chest as if the man standing in front of you was a disease-ridden being. 

Jean had to step back from you. What had gotten into his girlfriend, who was always so warm and full of love, who would always run to the door and give him a kiss every time he came back from work? 

You felt his eyes scrutinize you. Your jaw tightened and so did your grip on your hand. It didn’t take long before your open wound began to bleed again. 

Jean reached out to you once again but stopped himself when he noticed you flinch. His arms fell beside him dejectedly, “What’s wrong?” 

Maybe won’t you take it back? 

“You’re a liar.” you whispered softly, looking down on the floor. “You’re a liar, and I hate you.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jean hissed. He grabbed your arms tightly. 

You looked up into his burning gaze, your heart breaking for the hundredth time that day. “I saw you kiss someone else.” 

It took everything in you to try to forget whatever you saw earlier on. You tried to convince yourself it was just a hallucination. 

But as Jean’s grip on you slowly loosened, you knew that whatever you saw that afternoon was nothing but the bitter reality. 

“Tell me I’m wrong, Jean.” your voice trembled. Your eyes searched him, hoping to find even a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. But there was no mistaking that kiss. You were just trying to find an excuse for him -- and yourself. 

When you didn’t hear an answer, the pounding ache in your heart turned into a seething rage. You grabbed his dress shirt in tightly wound fists, “Tell me I’m wrong, please! And that you aren’t out there fucking someone else!” 

Say you were trying to make me laugh

His gaze dropped and all he could do was listen to your endless blubbering. 

“You’re a liar.”

“I loved you.” 

The sound of your sobs echoed through the apartment. A pang of guilt engulfed Jean, seeing you so broken because of him. Tears stung his eyes as you continued to mindlessly shake him. 

Jean hadn’t been a good partner, he knew that. He let casual flirting at the office between him and his coworker get the best of him. He didn’t think about how you were at home cooking for him, while he had someone else bent over in front of him. 

Jean couldn’t defend himself. 

He knew the moment he allowed himself to get carried away was the moment he lost you. 

And nothing has to change today

His hands slid from your forearms to your wrists, steadying you when he noticed your knees giving out. You hiccuped as your sobs turned into sniffles. With a shaky breath, Jean croaked, “I’m a terrible person. But, please, don’t leave me. You mean so much to me.” 

You shook your head repeatedly and kept your gaze on the floor, watching your tears fall. All you could do was cry - cry the pain out. 

It felt like you had your heart twisted and gouged out of your chest. It all happened too fast. Everything you thought was a constant in your life was mercilessly taken away from the person you loved most.

But you felt it coming. No, don’t say it, you thought to yourself. The last thing you wanted to hear was- 

“I love you.” Jean said in a single breath. He repeated the same words over and over again. You wondered if they meant anything anymore. Your hands balled into fists again. 

You didn’t mean to say “I love you”

He gave you the life you dreamt of and in a second, snatched it all away. You couldn’t forgive him. You couldn’t forgive the fact that no matter how hurt you were, you would still love him back. 

But most of all, you couldn’t forgive yourself for what you did next. 

I love you, and I don’t want to.

You threw your arms around Jean’s shoulders in a rush. 

Before he could even register what you were doing, your lips found Jean’s. You first felt the familiar tingle you always got whenever you kiss Jean, followed by a sinking defeat when you realised that you had yet again succumbed to him. 

Everything was blurry. Nothing made sense. If you could, you wanted to pack everything and go. 

But it all happened too suddenly. How was one supposed to let go of five years worth of love and memories in an instant? 

Jean’s arms held you tightly and he kissed you even deeper. His hands snaked themselves under your shirt and roamed the small of your back. You shuddered, goosebumps rising at every corner Jean touched. 

The kiss was hungry, as if the two of you had something to prove. There was no more going back. 

--

That smile that you gave me

You finally understood why people get caught up in loveless relationships. The memories were too precious. All you had built up, you refused to let it come crashing down. 

You knew this was wrong. Your morals, your burning hatred from before, the numbing pain in your heart. All of it was gone when you held Jean so close to you. 

An abrupt throb in your temple stirred you awake. You pressed a finger against the bridge of your nose as you looked up at the ceiling, and then to the left.

The dim glow of the night light softly outlined Jean’s shirtless torso. He sat up, the bed lightly dipping as he shuffled to the edge. Before he got up, Jean looked back at you and softly smiled. He leaned down and gently placed a kiss on your forehead, “I’m going for a smoke. Be right back.” 

You silently nodded and tiredly smiled back. 

Even when you felt like dying

The door clicked and you were left alone in a silence-shrouded room. The air felt thick, the feeling of unease weighing down on your body. 

Your face immediately contorted in pain as you choked back a sob. You helplessly balled yourself into a fetal position, your chest stinging with every cry you stubbornly keep in. 

You don’t know when you will be able to fully absorb the situation. All you knew was that when Jean was with you, you were whole - even if you failed to make him feel the same way. 

But the harsh truth was still the same. 

This was all temporary. You were temporary to him. 

_______________________________________

© katsukawas 2021

[tbartss]

Well since you asked so nicely, here is everything I wrote so far :’))

There was one memory Lance kept going back to whenever the world around him seemed too real. It was a long time ago, but he remembered it like it was yesterday.

He was back in Cuba, sitting on his surfboard on the mellow waves, his knees on either side as he stared up at the stars. He was 10 years old, and had yet to hear about the phenomenal school that was the Galaxy Garrison that would spark the beginning of his destiny. Now he was just a simple, normal citizen of Cuba, riding the dancing water and tracing the lights in the sky with his Tìo.

His tio, for all his remarkable self, was a strange man, and Lance had always thought so. It wasn’t in the way he spoke or gestures or walked or anything like that. It was in the things he said, sometimes, to seemingly just Lance.

Once he had thrown Lance one look and said, “I have only one debt, and that is to the stars.” What he had been doing to make him say that was the part he didn’t remember, but it wasn’t the important part.

His tio was his mother’s brother, but even she couldn’t make sense to what he was saying. When he had asked Raquel if she had heard him say anything like that, she’d shaken her head and looked at him as if he was crazy.

“You probably just dreamt it.” She’d said, but Lance was sure it hadn’t been his imagination.

“No way! My dreams are nothing like that.”

“You can’t control your dreams, tonto. Besides, Tio hardly ever speaks, and for him to say something like that is just downright loco.”

But Lance wasn’t convinced. He hadn’t really noticed until then that Rachel was right about one things though. His tio hardly ever spoke, but Lance had just chalked that up to adulthood. He had thought that the more you grew up, the less you needed to say. But now that he thought about it, his mother didn’t seem to hold back on any words whatsoever. Not to mention the very expressive way she spoke with her hands, that Lance had inherited. It was hardly believable that they were related.

“The stars are calling you again, eh?” He said now, staring at Lance, who was in turn staring at the stars. It was one of his favourite pass times, and his tio was one of his favourite people to do it with.

He wanted to ask what he meant, but he knew it was no use. Ever since Raquel had come with that comment, he’d begun to see that his tio was a man of few words. Lance had never heard him repeat himself and he knew it was futile to ask him of it now.

He’d said to Lance once, when he’d held a gun for the first time, that a man should think like he only has one bullet left in his holster. “One target. One shot. Once you pull the trigger there is no going back.” He was starting to think he wasn’t only applying that to his shooting.

So, Lance shrugged as an answer to his question. When his tio got like this, usually late into the night, Lance didn’t know what to say to him, most of the time. It was like he expected something from Lance, but Lance had no idea what, much less how to give it to him.

Nevertheless his tio nodded sagely, like Lance’s shrug told him everything he couldn’t say with words. His feet were wading the water under them calmly, causing small ripples that rocked Lance a little, like a soothing lullaby. He asked, “Leandro, how do they make you feel?”

Lance tore his eyes from the constellation his mother had named Orion, tilting his head. “Huh?” But it was useless, he knew, because his tio, instead of repeating himself, turned back to the night sky.

His eyes turned soft, and he breathed deep as if he could smell the galaxy from here if only he breathed deep enough.

Lance, feeling again like his tio was expecting something he didn’t know how to give, poked the water a couple of times. Once there, once here. And before he knew it, he was tracing his finger in the same shape as the constellation. The water rippled until his fingers stilled, and Lance saw that the Orion he had drawn was mirrored in the water.

How did the stars make him feel? How would he know? He was ten.

“What am I supposed to feel?” He asked instead, as he started tracing Andromeda in the water. When the image got too blurry he paused his finger to let the water still before he continued.

“You’ll know when you know, Lancito.” His voice was a soft timber in the quiet of the night, and Lance thought about how his tio was probably the closest he came to a father.

He listened to him breathe for a while, feeling a weird sensation in the crest of his chest, tucked somewhere deep inside that he didn’t know how to name. And lance, when he had added the last star to Andromeda, said, “Tio?”

He hummed in answer, not taking his eyes off of the stars.

“How did you know you wanted to work at the range?”

His tio looked at him in question. Just like how he was a man of few words, he also never said anything unnecessary.

Lance swallowed and looked away, suddenly feeling the need to fiddle with his fingers. “It’s just that at school, they asked us what we wanted to be in the future and I have no idea. Raquel knows she wants to be a teacher, and Marco has that internship and Veronica has been at that flying school a million years. But I have no idea what I want to be. What I want to do.” He looked up at his tio desperately, but he was only looking back as if he was deep in thought. “The only thing I’m sorta good at is shooting and fútbol. Do you think I should work with you, at the range?”

His tio seemed suspended in time, his body so still he caused no ripples in the sea below them. The wind carried his hair; it was dark brown, like Lance’s mother’s, like his father’s. Like his own.

And then slowly, his tio shook his head. The wind carried his voice like it would the single petal of a dandelion. He said, “Your place is not here, mijo. I think you know, deep inside you, where you belong.”

And then he said, “There is a part of you that is still sleeping. Once you wake it, that’s when you’ll know.”

He really hated his mysticism sometimes. He wished he could be a little clearer in what he meant, but then he thought about how he would feel if someone wished he could just understand things in a normal way. Lance had noticed he needed the extra step to understand certain things, elaborations if you will, but he didn’t think that’s the part his tio was talking about.

No, when Lance finally understood what his tio had meant, he’d stood on the frontlines of an intergalactic war.

***

When Lance had first laid eyes on the castle he’d thought, now that’s a house. He envisioned himself laid back with his hands resting behind his head, being fed grapes by the very attractive subjects that served him as he kicked back and relaxed like a king. He thought that the castle was his dream in reality, laid out bare for his very own eyes to see.

The other’s hadn’t been as impressed. More likely, they had been scared shitless. When he looked at Keith he saw only stone cold exterior. He bet himself that Keith was thinking the exact same thing he was. Too bad this was Lance’s dream, and he was going to seize it for himself.

The Blue Lion ship had really helped with his confidence. With that machinery, a weapon answering only to his command, he was basically unstoppable. He had the world at his feet, the stars in his hair. No one, not even Keith, could take that from him.

Shiro had taken charge, but he was okay with that. He knew what he was doing, and honestly, what is a dream without some comrades to die for, right? He had his best friend, his midget of a communications officer, and his rival in the same boat. There was no adventure, if he had no one to share it with.

The others looked around while Lance tinkered with the central controls in the room they were in. He pushed a few buttons and then laid his hand on the handprint, almost missing the hissing machinery that resulted from his improvising.

And boy, did he want to share his dreams.

When he had first laid eyes on Allura, a falling princess, landing in his arms, he’d thought, now that’s a woman. He envisioned them both sitting together, laughing together, standing at the alter as his family cheered him on, and Lance was wearing the biggest smile in the universe, really, NASA could capture it with their satellite. He thought that Allura was his dream come true, a fair maiden falling into his arms.

She was like a memory pulled from his mind.

A strong one, and quite hurtful.

“Ow, ow, ow! Careful, my skin is very delicate!”

The princess did not let up her hold on his ear, and he tried not to hear the snigger he knew was coming from Pidge.

***

“This castle must be ancient.” The hallways were so empty and wide his voice was carried across the distance. He whistled to test out the acoustics. He heard his own tune for another ten seconds before it disappeared further down the hall.

“100.000 years to be exact!” Coran said cheerily behind him. His voice carried far, too.

The first tour around the castle wasn’t very impressive. All of the doors were closed and it looked like no one had walked down these halls forever — which he supposed no one had, now that he thought about it. The control panels and light bulbs beside and above every door, respectively, were covered in dust.

With Allura walking down the hall in front of them though, the light turned on, running like veins horizontically along the wall until the hallway disappeared beyond the eye could see. These hallways were massive. Lance thought it’d be quite lonely for only two people.

“Amazing,” Pidge gushed, staring unblinkingly at the lights that turned on. Allura looked over her shoulder to smile kindly at him.

Hunk squinted at the lights, too, and poked them with his pointer finger. “How exactly does that work? I don’t see any electricity outlets.”

Coran laughed loudly, the sound of his merry filling the entire hallway. Lance thought it sounded a bit like his tio. “Oh, the simple human and their wonders,” he said. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “The castle’s power source, my young earthling, is connected to Allura’s energy. She is the only one who can control this ship and everything in it with her alchemy.”

“Alchemy?” Pidge piped up, sidling alongside Coran. “As in equivalent exchange?”

“Wait, wait, wait. How were we then able to get in with the Lion ship?” Hunk asked, touching the light along the walls.

Honestly, Lance was getting bored with their conversation. Blah, blah, something about Altean magic, and ancient knowledge, whatever. What Lance wanted to know was what was behind all of these doors. There were so many, Lance doubted each of them housed an Altean court person back in the day.

He walked to the nearest door and squinted at the control panel beside it. The inscription was in Altean, which he obviously couldn’t read, but there was also a very big red button. He wondered if…

The doors whooshed open the second he pressed the button on the panel. Inside was what Lance would assume was the Altean equivalent of a broom closet. It was bigger than his house. Like massive. How many bathrooms was the toilet paper in this closet supposed to cover?

He turned around to keep walking, when he stopped in his tracks. Everyone was staring at him.

At the sound of the doors opening, Coran had stopped talking immediately about something or other, Lance wasn’t really paying attention. Allura was also looking at him and the door, seeming in shock.

Lance raised his arms and took two steps away from the door. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything.”

No one said a word, for a while. Shiro was looking between Coran and Allura, probably to try and figure out what they were thinking, or if this had been inappropriate somehow. Keith looked about ready to downright murder Lance.

After some time of staring very intensely at Lance, Coran hummed and stroked his moustache. “The controls must be rustier than I thought. It has been 10.000 years…” he muttered, more to himself than anyone. He must have decided it wasn’t worth mulling over, his wrist flicking like he was swatting the topic away. “Anyway,” he continued walking, “so the crystals in this castle…”

And that was that. Allura and Coran kept walking, and Shiro, sensing there were no consequences happening, started to walk, too, prompting everyone else to follow his lead.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, and made sure to close the door before he followed with them.

“Stop touching stuff, you’re going to get us in trouble,” Keith hissed beside him. He must have slowed his pace to Lance’s. Just to tell him off? Tch, Lance didn’t think so.

“Relax, Mullet,” he answered and pocketed his hands in his jeans. “These people aren’t going to harm us. I mean, look at how gorgeous— I mean forgiving the princess was.”

“We’re in the middle of space with flying cat ships that are controlled by the very people that could incinerate us in a matter of seconds, or did you forget?” He added, “And it’s not a mullet!”

Lance shrugged. “Ay, stop being so paranoid. If you tighten up any more you’ll probably die a non-heroic death by boredom.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“And that will be your downfall. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What? That doesn’t even make any sense!”

***

*lance and hunk sneaking out of the garrison to go clubbing. Lance stops and stares at the stars. Maybe something happened earlier with Keith.*

“You okay, man?”

“Huh? Yea, was just thinking of something my uncle said once.”

“About space? Whatd he say?”

“I don’t even know, man, he didn’t make a lot of sense. It doesn’t matter, let’s go meet some girls WOO!!”

***

“How do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what? I’m just pressing buttons.”

“Yeah, that open doors that aren’t supposed to open.”

“Maybe the castle just likes me the best.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Enough talk. Let’s swim, mullet! I’ll race ya!”

***

The thing about the Galra is that they are both persistent and resourceful, and when you mix those two things together, they become near unstoppable. It was probably why their reign had lasted for as long as it did.

[pynches]

through the years we will be together (if the fates allow)

a/n this is a gift for @mletart for @pynchpromptweek Secret Santa! I hope you like it! summary: The Lynch brothers do Christmas caroling together to uphold the brotherly bond after their parents passed away. It so happens to be that Adam lives at the church they frequent at. The Myth of the Brothers Lynch become a reality when Adam finally meets the middle one.

word count: 2571

ao3 Adam had never seen them, he had tried many times to catch as much as a glimpse but his job at Boyd’s lined up with the mass times and he was always a little too late. Once, he thought he saw the edge of a BMW turn around the corner but he had waved that off. “Good boys” as the attendees had said, didn’t drive cars that were shark-nosed, all edges and brute force.

“They sing like angels,” one old lady told Adam. She attended church often, burning a candle sometimes. Adam wondered who she had lost, if she was the only one left standing. He almost wanted to ask if the angel metaphor was blasphemy but he held it in at the last moment and politely listened instead, the key to his apartment still in hand. “Especially the middle one.”

“Ronan,” Adam said helpfully, nodding his head in recognition. He had been so mystified by the brothers that he had absorbed every bit of information about them like a sponge, trying to piece everything together and create clear images of them.

He never quite succeeded.

“You must come to mass,” the lady said, her watery eyes looking up at Adam hopefully and Adam had politely declined though it cost him great hardship to do so.

“I’m not religious,” Adam said apologetically and stayed to listen to the lady’s story about the grandson she never really saw because he went to study abroad before Adam finally went up the stairs and let himself into his apartment.

The Brother’s Lynch, now a tangible subject in his mind, took residency in his thoughts for the remainder of the day, the week, until it was Sunday again and Adam was home for once.

Boyd had called Adam to him a few days before, telling him that he had to take some vacation days or he would breach the contract he had signed the year before. It so happened that one of those vacation days was that Sunday, since it wouldn’t be too busy at the shop that day anyway.

And thus, Adam was at the window on Sunday, peering through the slightly cracked glass to try and catch the eye of the brothers.

He watched as the shark-nosed BMW appeared again, followed by a much more boring car, parking next to the BMW. The first guy that got out was one that looked like he was the poster child for bad behaviour. Shaved head, tattoos that curled up from his shoulders and around his neck, peeking just above the black suit he was wearing, the tie artfully undone.

Next came another guy out of the more boring car, a displeased frown already set in his eyebrows. He wore a gray suit, everything perfectly in place. Adam wondered if the perfection was compensating for something.

Then, the last guy, which Adam expected was Ronan, the one with the nice voice, the “very kind boy” as one of the old ladies had whispered to him. Golden curls, a sweet smile on his face, an excited jump in his step as he entered the church.

Adam didn’t go down but he snuck out of his apartment and sat on the stairs, hoping to catch one of their voices. He wanted to learn the magic behind the sound, understand why everyone, including him, had been mesmerised by the brothers.

He didn’t hear a single one stand out, all of them combining too much to notice the ‘angelic’ ones the woman had told him about. Adam wished he still had his other ear in use, thinking that perhaps he would be blessed with the heavenly voices of the brothers if his father hadn’t beaten the hearing out of it.

Disappointedly, he stood again and moved upstairs to his little apartment, sitting down to study as he had done a hundred nights before and would continue to do so until the very end.

It wasn’t a half-hour later when he heard a single voice, moving below in the heart of the church, the voice echoing off the wall. Adam quietly tiptoed down and peeked around the corner. He was too entranced by the voice at first to notice the person singing. The musical notes and the quiet timber of it made Adam wonder if the church was built for the sound instead of God. But then he saw the figure and his heart momentarily stopped.

Shaved head, eyes sunken into his head, was he sleeping enough? Perhaps he was an insomniac as Adam was as well, by choice or not was the question. The suit jacket had been shrugged off and laid over one of the benches. His dress shirt had been rolled up his arms, exposing the boy’s pale forearms, scarred and vulnerable looking. Adam could distinctively see two hooks etched into the sides of his neck, the black ink a stark contrast against the whiteness of his skin.

This must be the youngest one Adam thought. He wanted to go up, introduce himself but he was too scared to. The boy was not only taller than him but significantly stronger too. Adam didn’t exactly feel fear but he didn’t want to take any chances either.

He barely noticed the singing had stopped before the boy was in front of him and Adam’s heart stilled in his chest. “Who the fuck are you?” Adam was asked who immediately went into defensive mode.

“I live here,” Adam said with an annoyed pull of his lips. He wondered why the ladies had said they were ‘good boys’. This one seemed anything but.

The boy’s mouth opened and closed, the spell on his hardened eyes momentarily broken and he looked so much younger immediately. “Oh, I didn’t know.”

Adam swallowed and nodded before his everlasting need for approval reared its ugly head. “Adam Parrish,” he said, knowing how ridiculous his name sounded in a church of all things. The boy, Matthew, Adam presumed, seemed to realise as well and smirked a little. Adam wished he didn’t find it as attractive as he did.

“Ronan Lynch,” the boy replied and…

Oh.

Oh.

“You’re not Matthew?” Adam asked and he immediately realised how stupid he sounded. He also realised his hand was still in Ronan’s, pleasantly warm under his soft skin.

“That would be my baby brother,” Ronan answered and cocked his head. Adam didn’t dare to tell him that it made him look like a confused puppy. “Why would you think I was Matthew?”

And here Adam was, standing in front of the most dangerous-looking boy with the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, tongue-tied and all. “The ladies who come here told me Ronan was the nicest of the brothers and well…”

“Matthew looks like a golden retriever personified,” Ronan helpfully added. “We’re all aware.”

Adam bit his lip and finally released Ronan’s hand. It took him everything to not immediately start running. He would have if he didn’t also want to tell Ronan how nice his voice was and, more importantly, leave a good impression for whatever reason that might be.

“Your voice…” Adam started and cleared his throat. “It’s really nice.”

He walked away after that, hating himself for coming up with ‘nice’ of all things. As if that wasn’t the lamest thing he could have said to the hottest person he had ever met in his short and sheltered life. You didn’t often find people like him in little Henrietta, Virginia and Adam blew it completely.

Adam could hear the soft laughter of Ronan echo against the walls again, following him up into his room. It was a quiet and surprising thing, fleeting like the birds’ wings on Ronan’s neck.

Adam dreamt about Ronan that night. Perhaps he truly wasn’t real but just a myth his mind had helpfully added a face to. But it couldn’t be, Ronan’s hand had felt so real in his own, warm and soft, the comforting touch of a mystical stranger.

Adam looked out the next day but Ronan was gone. It wasn’t a surprise, he didn’t think people that drove such cars actually slept in churches but he still felt a deep sense of disappointment that nobody was waiting for him downstairs, singing a beautiful song in greeting.

Adam got back to work the next Sunday and though he rushed back to catch a glimpse of the brothers, or, well, Ronan, it was to no avail. They were gone, carrying their voices with them.

The days flew by, the weather got worse. Adam was cold more often than not and in those freezing days where he could only pace up and down his small apartment to gain some warmth, he remembered the touch of Ronan’s hands, their palms pressed together, Ronan’s finger lightly touching his racing pulse.

“They have a habit of Christmas caroling,” one of the ladies, Dorothy, apparently, had told him with a wink as if she knew Adam had been looking out for them. “They do it every year, it keeps the brotherly bond alive.”

Adam thought Christmas caroling only happened in cheesy Christmas movies but he had thanked her and kept Dorothy’s words to heart. He made sure to finish all of his homework before sitting down on his bed on Christmas eve, eyeing the door with nervous anticipation. He belatedly thought of the possibility they would only carol at the door of the church, not of his apartment. Still, he held the hope that Ronan would remember their conversation and attempt to sing for him.

Though Adam had hope, he didn’t actually expect a knock on his door. He turned the doorknob with a shaky hand, his stomach fluttering with nerves.

Before him stood three brothers.

Declan, his expression stoic, his suit black this time with a tie that looked as if it was made by someone artistic, snowflakes and Christmas trees decorating the red and green background. The tie greatly contrasted what Adam had thought was his personality. Maybe he wasn’t as boring as he portrayed himself to be.

Matthew, all golden curls and happy smiles as he sang, his head bobbing a little with every note, his eyes squinted to feel the music more. He was as he seemed, cheerfulness evident in every word he sang.

And then there was Ronan. He was dressed in all black, not quite right for Christmas eve but it fit him, Adam could tell even though he didn’t truly know him. The scar on his lip pulled a little when he sang, the sole focus point of Adam’s sight until he suddenly remembered he had been staring at Ronan’s lips with fascination and looked up again. His eyes met Ronan’s pale blue ones. It reminded him of the ice he always wished he could skate on but never could afford.

Ronan smiled while he sang, he could tell from the crinkles around his eyes. Adam couldn’t help but smile back and applaud a little when they were done.

“You deserve every praise you get,” Adam told the brothers. Declan nodded in appreciation and squeezed Ronan’s shoulder.

“He really is nice,” he said, smirking a little as Ronan’s cheeks turned red, his expression affronted that his brother dared to expose him like that. “Ronan forced us to sing for you.”

This time it was Adam’s time to blush, unable to meet Ronan’s eyes so they fell on Matthew instead who looked ecstatic. “I think you’ll make a lovely brother in law.”

“Matthew!” Ronan yelled and Matthew laughed as he dragged Declan down to ‘give them some privacy’.

Adam finally looked up to Ronan again and tugged a little on the sleeve of his suit jacket so he met his eyes again. “I’m glad you came here.”

“You are?” Ronan asked, sounding as if he expected Adam to slam his door in his face. Adam could sense the hope in Ronan’s eyes and, hell, it was Christmas Eve . This was the night for miracles and taking chances, for spending time with loved ones that Adam didn’t have but if he played it right, he could have exactly that next Christmas.

Adam thus nodded and ran inside to get a pen, writing his phone number on the palm of Ronan’s hand, the light blue almost the colour of the veins that ran underneath his skin. “I want to get to know you better, maybe you become less of a myth in my head.”

Ronan’s laugh sounded like bells and Adam couldn’t help but grin back, strangely proud that he made the boy with the wonderful voice laugh like that.

“I don’t use my phone a lot,” Ronan confessed but protectively curled his fingers around the phone number anyway and Adam knew he was going to call him.

“See it as a Christmas present to me,” Adam replied and Ronan’s lips pulled in a smirk, leaning closer to him as he spoke his next words.

“And what is my present then?”

Adam rolled his eyes, somewhere between exasperated and amused, knowing that he would be walking that fine line more often with Ronan. “A date?”

Ronan’s cheeks flushed a little again and he nodded. Adam cheered inwardly. “Deal,” he replied as if they were in some kind of business meeting. He briefly frowned, having realised that himself too.

Adam wanted to tease that he was more like his brother than he was probably willing to admit but he kept his mouth shut to ensure he would still go on that date.

“Deal,” he replied softly instead and watched as Ronan finally turned to leave, looking back one last time at him before going back into the cold. Adam watched Ronan push Declan and ruffle Matthew’s hair before getting into the shark-nosed BMW and driving off, the pristine snow still lingering to its exterior.

The myth of the Lynch Brothers didn’t end there but next Christmas, Adam was in on it too. He didn’t carol, it was something for the brothers alone. Instead, he comfortably sat on the worn couch of the Barns, sipping hot chocolate with Chainsaw, Ronan’s raven, her beak comfortably pressed into his neck, waiting for the brothers to return.

With them, the Lynches brought warmth and joy, a liveliness that Adam had missed in those years alone. It wasn’t before long that they came barrelling through the door, Ronan curling up next to him, one arm around the back of his shoulders as they retold where they had been caroling, how the old ladies of the church wished Adam a happy Christmas.

And Adam did have a happy Christmas, more so than he ever experienced before. He was surrounded by people he cared for more than anything and finally understood what the true Christmas spirit was about. Love, joy, and most importantly, spending time with your family, be it born or found.

[istoleyourboat]

Eyes of Gold - Rumpelstiltskin AU

This fic is dedicated to anubis-005 who gave me such a precious fan comic for one of my other fics and now I’m blessed to think about it for the rest of my life.

______

Nene paced the small room full of straw. Judging from the windows, the descent below was too deadly for her to escape.

Leave it to her father to lie about her ‘ability’ to spin straw into gold.

And leave it to luck to let the lie spread to nobility.

The king separated her from her father and filled a room with straw just for her. He threatened that if she didn’t have an entire room of gold, he would have her head by sunrise.

After seeing that there was no means of escape, she placed herself near the window where she cried underneath the moonlight. Her father was desperate to get money after their mill burned down. As much as Nene hated to lie, scamming a few people was the last resort. She had no idea that a quick scam to get something to eat would turn into a fight for her life.

So she cried and cried and cried till there was no more water in her body.

When a hand offered her a handkerchief, she quickly got to her feet and rubbed at her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get to work right away, the magic just needed a few tears is all-“

“You can cry magic?” a manly voice asked.

Once Nene opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of a smiling young man her own age. Or what she could guess was her own age, given how he obviously wasn’t human, what with the way he floated and all. He had this ethereal glow to him, which highlighted his handsome features. Though he wasn’t her type, he was undeniably attractive, in a strange otherworldly sort of way. Given his smile, it was as if he already knew her answer.

A bit shaken, she answered, “No. Unfortunately, I can’t at all.”

“Then why were you crying?”

So she explained everything to the strange man. How her father’s mill burned down, how they tried to scam a few people, and what led her to that prison. She even told him how the king would have her and her father’s heads if she didn’t spin all the straw into gold.

He tutted his finger at her. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to lie? Really, what a situation you’re in.”

“I know!” Nene exclaimed, a bit irked. “But it’s too late now.” She got back to the spinning wheel and started threading. “Sorry if my tears were too loud. I promise not to bother you again.”

His voice chirped. “You weren’t bothering me.”

Quickly, he floated towards her and whisked her away to the window, pointing to the full moon.

“And you shouldn’t give up so easily. The moon is a portal into my world and when you cried under it, I was able to hear you.” He set her down on her feet. “I could transport gold from my world and bring it here while you throw away the straw.”

“You would do that?” Nene asked graciously. “Oh thank you!”

He halted her for a moment and brought his hand up. “For a price of course. You can’t just get something for free.”

Nene shoved her hands into her dress pockets, patting it down to find something. There was nothing left over from the mill and she had no jewels or riches to give.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything to give you…” she muttered sheepishly. “I don’t think I have anything you’d want.”

Hanako stepped right in front of her. The click of his boots touching the ground echoed. “Nonsense,” he said. “In fact, what you’ll give me will help seal the deal.”

Her brow quirked. “What would that be?”

“A kiss. To seal the deal, we’ll make a pinky promise.”

“A- A- kiss?” she stuttered. Her face flared up in embarrassment. “Is a kiss really worth a whole room of gold?”

He shrugged. “Who knows? It makes things more interesting don’t you think?” Hanako held out his pinky towards her. “Do we have a deal?”

Although Nene’s instincts screamed at her to not make deals with shady moon men- no matter how handsome they were, a huge part of her felt safe, like she could trust him wholeheartedly.

As she held her pinky out to wrap around his, she looked into his eyes and saw no sign of bad intentions. Magic worked in strange ways… Maybe he was telling the truth. When his pinky grasped onto her own, he bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, sending tremors down her body as she forgot how to breathe.

Parting away from him, she felt empty, tempted to kiss him once again.

“What’s your name?” she asked breathlessly.

Hanako gave a teasing grin.

“Just call me Hanako.”

.

.

.

Hanako did as he promised and kept disappearing in and out of the room. He’d exit out of the window and come back in with bags full of gold earrings, gold bars, and the like. Even if the king was confused by the straw turning into objects, Hanako assured her the king wouldn’t mind. Nene kept throwing straw out the window and every time Hanako came back, they shared many laughs and a few stories to pass the time.

Once Nene threw all the straw out the window, Hanako floated beside her. Hanako started to disappear into thin air as the moonlight faded. Before he left, he gave a kiss to Nene’s hand and laughed at her flustered face. By the time dawn came, the king came in to take in all the wonderful treasure.

“How magnificent!” the king cried out. “This is truly a gift.”

“Thank you,” she bowed. “Now I must check on my father-“

“Nonsense! In fact, I will give you another room filled with straw and you can give me more gold. In return, I’ll give your father a new mill. I’ll let the servants entertain you for a whole day.”

And so Nene was thrust into a whole day of pampering. She ate a wondrous feast as musicians came to play on their lutes and singers came to give their songs. All day long she was treated like a queen as all the servants rushed to her beck in call. By the end of the evening, she was dressed head to toe in rich silks while her hair shone like starlight.

It all would have been in good fun, had the king not been so greedy. Once again, he locked her into another prison. This time, there was even more straw. So much so, it reached the ceiling.

Sighing to herself, she plummeted her body to the window, wishing that she really could spin straw into gold. Hanako was so kind to have helped her. Although she didn’t understand why he’d want a mere kiss and a pinky promise, her heart swelled at his kind gesture. He must’ve been fatigued by the whole ordeal. If there was anything to comfort Nene, it was the fact that her dad was probably living happily at his new mill.

She felt her head lean against someone’s shoulders. When she turned her head, she was delighted to see her friend once more. “Hanako?! What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he said. Taking in all the straw, he whistled. “More straw for gold? What a tyrant.”

Nene hung back her head in defeat. “Yes… But luckily my dad is free and at his new mill. Even if I die tomorrow, at least I’ll die knowing that.”

“Who said you were going to die?” He chuckled. “I certainly won’t let that happen.”

Nene couldn’t contain her shock. “You’re really going to help me? I’m sorry, but I can’t really give you anything. I didn’t take any treasure in here. All I can really give are the clothes off my back.”

“Well if you’re offering~” he teased.

She playfully swatted at him. Over the course of last night, she had learned he was quite a perverted trickster. Between his journey, he’d get her flustered by breathing into her ear and sneaking quick scares. It would’ve been frustrating if he wasn’t so devilishly charming. To tell the truth, she didn’t really mind his advances.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he joked. “But I do have something I want from you.”

“And what would that be?”

He leaned against her small frame and started to play with her fingers. “I want you to sing me a song. Whichever one you like.”

Nene’s eyes were fixed curiously. The straw had doubled in size and all he wanted was a song?

“Are you really sure a song is worth a room of gold?” Nene asked worriedly.  She felt incredibly guilty for not giving him anything of value. Although she knew that fairies and magic creatures operated by different rules, it still plagued her mind.

To her surprise, he just raised her hand to his lips and kissed it like he had the day before. “Anything from you is more than enough for me.”

Hesitantly, she placed her head against his shoulder and started to prod at his fingers. She sang him a lullaby that her mother sung to her a long time ago, when she was still a little girl who dreamt of leaving the mill. Nene was not like the other trained singers in the king’s court, but Hanako’s eyes drifted happily as they sat by the window, engulfed by shadows of the night sky.

Once her song was finished, he gave her a kind smile, awed by her gentle tune.

With that, the two got back to work as he brought in more gold and she threw out more straw. They laughed and sang till the moon faded out of sight, where Hanako gave another kiss to her hand. However this time, Nene noted, he looked a little sad in his departure.

Like the day before, the king came in and marveled at all the new pieces of gold. He set her out to be pampered once again. Only throughout the whole day, Nene could only think about Hanako and how she would repay his kindness. When the king announced that they would wed after she spun gold that night, Nene actually felt distressed. The king was her usual type, but the threat of her head chopped off made him extremely unattractive. To her surprise, when the marriage was brought up, her mind trailed back to the sweet kiss that she and Hanako shared.

Truly, what a dangerous thought.

.

.

.

Nene sat in the roomful of straw the third night. Thankfully there was less straw than the two previous nights. The king even gave her a little mattress to rest her body. No doubt it was to show her that he could also be ‘kind’ and ‘generous.’

She scoffed at the whole notion. How could he ever think about doing that to someone he’d consider as his future queen. Just as she approached the window, Hanako appeared right before her, as if he had been waiting for her.

“Oh, Hanako! Have you come to help me?”

“I didn’t think that little tyrant would let you off so easily. Is he still threatening to kill you?” He sighed, putting his hands on his hips expectantly.

Nene’s fingers started fumbling with each other. “Well, yes. But he also said that if I get all this straw spun into gold, he’ll make me his queen.” She gazed at him with pleading, innocent eyes. “So please help me…”

Unpleasant silence drifted into the room like a cloud. For the first time, Hanako frowned.

And even stranger, his tone turned gritty and callous. “Ahhh, I see. So even with all the times he’s tried to kill you, made you a near slave, you still want to be with him. Gee, I knew you were a romantic, but never I thought you’d be stupid.”

Her heart constricted and tears pricked the corners of eyes. “It’s not like that’s what I wanted any of this!” she yelled. “How could I deny being his queen? He’ll kill me if I say no. You wouldn’t understand what it’s like to go hungry or beg for some morsels to eat! At least if I say yes, he’ll give me a good life.” She had to turn away from him. If she spoke any more, she’d likely fall apart.

“I suppose I don’t understand.” He sighed defeatedly. “Very well, I’ll give you all the gold you need for your happily ever after.”

Before she could give him her new jewelry as payment, he held his hand up to stop her. “No need,” he said.

With a snap of his fingers, all the straw was replaced by shimmering gold treasures. Stacked high to the ceiling were gilded statues, metal flowers, and twinkling coins. All so beautiful and yet so empty.

She was absolutely dumbfounded. If he could do that all along, why bother to float in and out of the window to see her? Why go through all the trouble?

“Unfortunately, this is the last time I can help you. The people of the other world aren’t too happy about me bringing all this gold,” Hanako said. “I’ll have to spend a few mortal months paying it all back.”

Nene was disappointed to hear the news. All the fun times they shared came to an unsatisfying end. She should have known better than to think a mere kiss and a song were enough. Now poor Hanako would have to pay a price.

Once he faced the window and prepared to float away, Nene hugged him from behind, intent on trapping him there till he heard her pleas.

“You’ve done so much for me Hanako! I’m sorry I was so selfish…” He turned to look her in the eyes, a bit surprised by her apology. “What’s your price?” Nene humbly asked. “Surely I can give you something you’d want!”

He gave her a glance up and down, eyes enticed by her lovely face and soft figure.

“You.”

It’s all he said before he kissed her. The last thing she could feel was her back hitting the mattress.

.

.

.

When Nene woke up the next morning and gathered her clothes, she found herself missing the warmth of Hanako’s body. The cold stone tower gave off very little heat and the only thing to comfort her was the beat of his heart underneath her ear. As strange as it was, he felt even more human than the king.

Silence was the only noise in the room as the two made themselves presentable. Combing her hair around him has never felt so awkward, nor has it ever felt so lonely. From her left eye she could see his sulking figure and she felt her heart growing sad.

“Hanako, I-“

The door to her prison opened and like every night, Hanako vanished without a trace.

.

.

.

Nene’s marriage to the king was an incredibly unhappy one.

When she gave the excuse that magic could only spin straw into gold three times, he nearly had her head cut off. It was only until his advisors told him it would make him look monstrous to the kingdom that he put that idea to rest.

Their few months together were extremely volatile, with him muttering about how he had no need for her. Still, they were married and as most married couples, they were expecting a child.

But he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when he found out she gave birth to a girl and not a baby boy.

‘She’s unfit to rule,’ he had said. ‘Name her whatever you want, I don’t care.’

After being so rudely dismissed, Nene could only trudge to her separate room as she held her dear daughter in her arms. The maids and servants gave her looks of pity, knowing all too well how cruel their king could be.

It had been over a month and her daughter still had no name. Nene didn’t have the heart to give her one, too tired and depressed to think about it.

Because the king hadn’t even tried to go near her daughter, he missed out on her adorable yawns and little hiccups. He left all of his parenting duties to Nene and a couple of nannies, who would often coo at the little princess. They cited how she looked an awful like Nene herself, with tufts of cream colored hair and a soft nose, an utterly perfect picture of beauty. She was a child that any parent would be proud to love.

As much as her daughter greatly resembled her, a peculiar thing to note was that her eyes were neither her mother’s shade of ruby red or the king’s deep onyx.  

They were a glimmering shade of gold.

.

.

.

Once again, Nene failed to get her husband to pay attention to her daughter. Setting the baby down in a cradle, Nene tucked her in with a little wolf toy that had amber buttons for eyes while she sang a familiar lullaby. When she was done, she sat in her own lone bed and wiped her tears away furiously. The moonlight that shone over the cradle did very little to comfort her. As strange as it seemed to be upset over a man not paying attention to what should be his daughter, Nene’s heart ached. Now she knew that even if the baby had been bred from his blood or borne from his feathers, she would be treated no differently. Still unloved, still unwanted.

“She’s beautiful,” a voice awed.

Nene gasped and flung her head back. The moonlight had seeped in through the window’s cracks and onto the cradle. Her sleeping baby’s hand was curled around Hanako’s finger. Hanako gave a tiny laugh, fawning over the precious thing. “What a beauty,” he whispered. “She looks just like you.”

When he heard nothing and turned to Nene, his brows creased in worry. “Why are you crying?”

It was hard not to tear up in front of him. Not only was this the first time she had seen him in almost a year, but he had shown more care to her daughter in two minutes than the king had in two months. What should she say? That her marriage was horrible? How she thought of him each time she looked at the moon? How the king’s daughter was actually his?

Instead, she confessed that the king was ashamed of not having a son.

If Hanako was annoyed with her sudden engagement, then he was absolutely furious when he heard the words leave her mouth. “How could a king not notice such a treasure? Not even a whole world of gold is an ounce of what she’s worth.”

Unable to hear anymore, she ran into his arms and cried a year’s load of tears into his shoulder. He hushed her graciously and grazed her cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, Hanako,” she whispered. “He won’t even look at her… And he hates the fact I can’t give him gold anymore. I’m just so miserable here…” Sinking her nose deeper into the crook of his neck, she muttered, “What should I do?”

Hanako took a hold of her small frame and smiled at her, looking even more handsome than the day she lost him. “Don’t worry, Yashiro. I’m going to set things right.” He walked the both of them over to the baby’s cradle. “Just follow my lead.”

.

.

.

The very same night, the king was stupefied to see a man from the moon come to him demanding his firstborn child. Nonchalantly he dismissed Nene’s concern with the wave of his hand. The king didn’t particularly care about Nene’s tears or the advisors warning him about magical creatures, he only paid full attention once Hanako threatened to steal away all his gold.

Hanako rolled his eyes. Of course he would only care about that.

Clearing his throat, Hanako glared down at the king. “Again, your wife promised me her firstborn child the moment I taught her how to spin straw into gold. But now that she’s broken her end of the deal, I’ve opted to take them both and all the gold she’s ever given you.” Hanako smirked viciously. “Unless you can tell me my name within the next hour.”

Making his way to the king, Hanako jutted out one hand. “Do we have a deal?”

The king grew nervous, clinging harder onto his jeweled rings and his throne’s handles. Shakily, he shook Hanako’s hand. As afraid as he was, he was even more afraid of losing all his riches.

Hanako smiled mischievously. ‘Excellent’, he thought.

Once the deal was done, the king ordered everyone in the room to guess the moon man’s name. All the advisors shouted possible names, ranging from Aito to Zenshiro. They used their own names, their family’s names, and even scoured through books to find a name.

As the hour ticked by, Nene and Hanako were elated at the king’s futile efforts. Any minute now and their deal would be done. More than fifty minutes passed by when all the advisors were at their wit’s end, stammering as the king grew more and more frustrated.

Angrily, the king took a hold of Nene’s shoulders and shook her violently. She clung onto the baby as her husband’s voice got louder.

“Tell me! You must know his name!” the king yelled. “How could you not!”

Seething in rage, his fingers started digging deeper into her shoulders. She yelped in pain as the baby started to cry from the motion. “You planned this all along, didn’t you? You planned on stealing my fortune from the very start! You useless piece of-”

The king could not finish his sentence as a fist collided right into his face and sent him flying. His neck nearly collided with the throne’s platform as his nose was painted in scarlet.

Everyone stood in shock as the moon man shook off blood from his knuckle.

“That’s enough,” Hanako grit. “Your time is up.”

With the snap of his fingers, the room started spinning. Everything- even the gold off of their hands and ears, was snatched away, vanishing into thin air.

There was almost nothing left in the throne room besides a few fragments of wood and a couple of fabrics, which scattered along the floor when the wind came.

Fed up with the royal’s nonsense, Hanako sneered at the king’s shock. The lavish room looked nothing more than a pile of shabby dust. Turning to Nene and the baby, his eyes softened.

Gently gathering her up into his arms, no different from how a man would carry his bride, he floated high and above. The moonlight engulfed their bodies while he gave a victorious smirk.

“I’ll be taking my wife and my daughter back.”

With that, he and the miller’s daughter were never seen again.

.

.

.

“So you knew all along…” Nene flushed. Her baby was sleeping once again, this time in a cradle from the other world.

Hanako laughed. “Of course I did.” He laid his chin on top of Nene’s head and held her close with his slender arms. “She has my eyes.”

How he was able to tell, she doesn’t know. Save for her brief cries in the throne room, her baby had been asleep the whole time. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she didn’t care. If Hanako called her his daughter, then that was all she needed to hear. The memory of his finger engulfed by her infant’s hand was more than enough.

“And you don’t mind?” Nene asked.

You don’t mind having a daughter? You don’t mind me?

Hanako placed a kiss to her temple. “If I did, would I have stolen you away? You can be so silly, Yashiro.”

She could feel his heartbeat right behind her back as they stared down at the infant. Turning around, Nene’s eyes lowered as her smile widened. “Well if that’s the case, then you should be the one to name our daughter. It’s only fair.”

Before he can leap in joy, she pinched his nose and giggled when he winced. “You better make it good though! You know how hard it was to take care of a kid all by yourself? You owe me about nine months of care!”

He chuckled amorously. “Of course, I do,” he teased. “I’ll give you all that and more.”

Bending down to feel the soft texture of his daughter’s cheeks, his eyes came down in bliss. Besides her mother, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

“Mizuki. Let’s call her Mizuki,” he said.

Nene leaned her head against him, happy to have heard such a lovely name. Quite befitting for a daughter of the moon.

[darling-archeron]

this is as good a place to fall as any + feysand for the fic request thing? angst would be good (;

ask and you shall receive - i hope you like angst. I may have used this as personal catharsis and it came out as one of the rawest, and, in my opinion, most painful things I’ve ever written. Not super edited, but I hope you enjoy!  <333.

TW for minor mentions of suicide

Music in the Night

It was the end of another infinitely long day, and Feyre found herself on the roof of the townhouse. The same place she had spent lazy nights with Rhysand, curled up with the stars until dawn. They had once promised each other infinite nights like this, filled with love and whispered secrets and lazy touches.

This time, she was alone.

She had gone out into Velaris by herself today, walked the streets, and been with her people in a way that she hadn’t in years. It had left her bone-weary deep in her soul. After the war, when what was left of her family returned to Velaris, she had been too broken by her grief to mingle with her people. The only thing she was aware of was the emptiness of the void in her head where such life had once flowed. The funeral had been hell, numbness coating her mind and tongue when the priestess asked if she would say a few words.

After she had finally picked herself up, convinced herself to keep going, there was so much to be done. Simply going for a walk never seemed to make the list. Mor had kept Velaris running for years, but she didn’t rule the entire court. And Feyre had never run anything of the sort. It wasn’t long after he was gone that she realized how much Rhys had left to teach her, how much he had not known himself. It had been exhausting as she turned all her energy on fixing the Court instead of looking inward at the dark shards within herself.

 Learn as best as she could from Mor and Lucien what it took to rule, to heal rifts with the Hewn City, who barely recognized her as High Lady, and to Illyria, who only began to respect her once she showed what she was capable of. When they had time, she did physical training with Cassian. Continuing to explore the facets of her magic had been harder. The two beings who might have taught her something more about it were gone.

So for the most part, she gave herself over to her court. They deserved that much. It was nights like these when she allowed herself self-pitying, angry, sorrowful moments. Just her, the night sky, and a bottle of whiskey she had swiped from Rhys’s huge stash. The roof seemed as good a place to fall as any. To ask the Cauldron why so much of the good in her life had been taken. To ask why she always seemed to end up alone.

Because Rhys…Rhys had been taken from her. She had loved him with a passion and fury she knew had been called foolish. But the only foolish thing about their love was how she hadn’t seen the end coming, hadn’t realized that he would sacrifice everything he had to heal the cleaved Cauldron. And when Rhys was truly gone, and even trying to bring him back as he had done to her hadn’t worked – she didn’t reflect on those moments. Ever.

She had survived poverty, Amarantha, and being made, the Ouroboros, and the War. She had been born a fighter.

It hadn’t stopped her from reaching for a knife to turn on herself on that battlefield, in moments when everyone else was too distracted. Azriel had only just stopped her, and there were days she could still feel the sharp kiss of the blade on her chest.

Most of the time – most of the time she was glad she hadn’t done it.

A breeze came up, and Feyre shivered. The backs of her thighs were beginning to dig into the roof.

In the emptiness of the weeks that had followed, she found that she hated silence. Because there was never again going to be passed jokes and musings down that bridge of gold. Never again going to be music sent to her in her darkest moments.

The townhouse became emptier as well.

 Amren had sacrificed herself to end the war. Elain had eventually left Night to pursue a life of travel, slowly healing from the horrors she had witnessed. Lucien was building alliances on the continent, though only after he had been convinced that she wasn’t going to fall apart. Nesta…was complicated. She still lived in Velaris, off of accounts Feyre kept filled, but she barely saw her sister anymore. Feyre wasn’t sure which one of them was more broken, some days.

Mor needed out of Velaris too. Feyre knew she was losing her mind. Though no physical wards kept her here as they once had, she couldn’t abandon the duty she had. Because she didn’t think Feyre was strong enough.

Feyre still doubted herself every step of the way. Because in the end, she did blame herself. She had made a bad choice with what mattered the most, hadn’t seen that his final “I love you” was not a declaration, but a goodbye.

He had known what she would want to believe, apparently known her better than she had known him.

She had always been a fool for a happy ending. Had always wanted it for herself. Her mate had helped her believe that she deserved it until she saw it herself. She had been a dreamer in a Court of Dreams.

Feyre watched the city below, taking a swig of the whiskey. There was a revel in the streets a few blocks away, the beautiful, seductive music taking away the emptiness that lingered in her head.

The Night Court needed a strong leader. They deserved someone who dreamt of a better world, who wasn’t falling apart. And as much as she was unqualified, she knew she had to learn. And as much as she had wanted to let the world fall away as she descended into her grief – she had made a vow. To Rhysand, to her people, to herself. To deny that – it would make her an utter failure.

So, she had forced herself to become that person, and learn to lead, to play the games of Court. To heal wounds the war had ripped open. A leader with an iron heart and mask of steel.  

The one thing she couldn’t learn again was how to forgive. She couldn’t forgive Tamlin, or Hybern, or herself. No matter how much Mor and Elain beseeched her. Elain had dragged her to the same mind-healer that she had been seeing in Dawn. Not a daemati – but someone who focused on emotional and psychological wellness. After a few visits, she had stopped going.

She needed closure, Elain had told her. It was easy for her to say. Every inch of this place didn’t remind her of their father. How could you find closure when the wound was ripped open again every day?

Another swig of whiskey and the music grew louder. A sob hiccupped in her throat, and she pushed it down. She wasn’t drunk enough to stop caring yet, and if she started crying now she would never stop.

She wondered how the history books would be written, sometimes. Human and Fae alike. Would the fae praise how she had defeated Amarantha, or as time went on, would the ballads and stories be edited and brushed under the rug to hide how helpless the faeries had really been? Would they tell how she fought her way across that bloody plain, each swing of her sword for a better world?

Would the elegies they painted eulogize Rhysand properly?

Would they tell how she had let him die?

She shook her head violently, strands of hair shaking free from the tight braid she had pulled it back into. She had cut it to shoulder length a few weeks after the war – practically a cliché from one of the books she had read. Since then, she had never let it grow back out.

She wouldn’t let herself think of all she hadn’t done now. She had done that enough – days where nightmares tore her from sleep and she replayed those minutes on the battlefield over and over, trying to find a different way.

 Instead, she thought back to what that healer had told her at the Dawn Court. She had given Feyre breathing exercises she couldn’t remember now, and she had told her that it was okay to talk about them. It had all seemed so useless at the time.

Elain had found catharsis in it, though. She didn’t just talk about their father – she talked to him, she had confided.

Another swig of whiskey – longer, this time. It burned as it went down, and it made her buzzed enough to say what the hell.

“Rhys?” She whispered, so softly. She had never – never spoken to him like this. Screaming his name as she was torn from his arms in every last nightmare, yes. But this - she had always thought it would hurt too much.

“I hope that you’re happy, Rhys.” She knew that he thought he was Lord of Nightmares, that wherever he went after he died wouldn’t be pleasant. It was something she had been working to slowly changed his mind about, making him see that he wasn’t damned.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t stop you – didn’t realize until it was too late. I didn’t find any other way. I know – I know that you wouldn’t have had it any other way. That you didn’t want to stop me. But I’m so sorry and I will never stop regretting and hating myself for it –” Her words broke off with a sob as she finally let the tears come. “And if you can somehow hear this – I just need you to know that I will never stop loving you. And I’m trying my best to fill the void you left behind, to be the leader everyone needs me to be.” For a while, the only sound was her breathing and the distant music as her words were swallowed up by the night.

She sniffed a little. “Do you remember our last night up here? It was just a few days before we left. Did you know you wouldn’t be back?” Another long pause, like she was giving him time to reply. “I’m sure even then you were planning. But I just remember – we were up here, it was a night a lot like this. No wine or lingerie – it was just us, the stars, and the city. I fell asleep up here, in your arms. You told me stories of your adventures years ago. The time you and Azriel got lost in Malwich and – well, I never heard the end of it. I was so exhausted. Do you think Az would tell it to me if I asked him?”   

Silence echoed as the distant song wound down.

“I miss you.” She said quieter than ever, barely a breath. “You spent your last breaths telling me that you loved me…and I never said it back. Because I thought I would have a million more times to say it, and so you never heard it that final time even though I’m sure you knew –“ Snot plugged up her nose and she sniffed again, voice ugly and cracking. “I love you, Rhysand.”

She buried her head in her arms as the music slowly started up again. It slowly grew louder until she could make out a familiar tune.

Feyre could have laughed. It wasn’t the music Rhysand had sent her Under the Mountain. It was an echo of it, an answer to the original piece’s question. The haunting melody and drifting notes filled her head and her soul. They chased out the awful silence and made her feel new, if only for a moment.

She recalled back when she was human, laying in her cell as that music floated down. She had drifted somewhere in the clouds, seen faces she couldn’t make out. Just as it had been then – as she gazed out at the unclouded sky, she could have sworn she saw Rhysand peering back at her with love in his eyes – for just a moment.

Perhaps just a trick of her eyes, of a desperate soul. But as she gazed up at those bright stars, she didn’t stop the tears from falling.

I love you, Rhys. 

She stayed out there long after the music had died down until she could see a hint of dawn’s rosy hue rising over the Sidra. The memory of the song echoed in her head, keeping the silence at bay.

[ghostxofxartemis]

Kiss asks: #29 a kiss on the inside of the wrist. for pairing of your choice

Thank you so much for this prompt! It definitely took me surprise where it went. But damn these two are adorable! Also, I apologize for the horrid grammar, bilingual problems. 

Available on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                                         Enraptured

His omni-tool beeped, stirring him out of a deep sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he checked the time quickly. It was 3:00 am. Two more hours before Kaidan had to get up for work.

Kaidan. Axel felt him stir in bed next to him. He ghosted a kiss on Kaidan's shoulder just before he rolled out of bed and stood up. He quietly padded his way into the office adjacent to their master bedroom.

Groggily he answered the call, while trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hello?"

"Commander. You're a hard man to reach.”

Although his vision was still blurry from sleep he easily recognized the familiar face on the video call. 

"For reasons, Bailey. What can I do for you?"

"Sorry to disturbed you this early in the morning. I do realize what time it is on Earth. But your name was listed as emergency contact-"

"Emergency contact for who?" Skepticism filled his tone. The only person he knew to have him listed as an emergency contact was Kaidan. He looked back behind him into the master bedroom to make sure he hadn't dreamt that Kaidan laid there next to him just seconds ago. Not even his mother had put him down as contact after he came back from the dead. Whether it was intentional or she merely forgot, he would never know. Since Kaidan slept in the room just across from him, he didn't understand who else would have put his name on the list. His father had long retired…

"Your daughter"

"My wh-?" If he hadn't been awake before, he sure fucking was now.

"We obtained birth records, blood type information, medical history… your name is listed on the birthday certificate as the father. Your name was provided as emergency contact by a Melanie? No last name indicated. This was…" Bailey looked up from the paperwork he had been reading from "given to us a couple days after the reapers were at our front door. Transportation will be arranged for her. Information will be sent in a few hours. I'll be in touch." Bailey ended the transmission and Axel stood dumbfounded.

"I want to adopt her." Axel turned around to see Kaidan standing at the door, rubbing his eyes, his sweatpants haphazardly put on showing the deep V going down his sweats. The bulge down below is just a little distracting for Axel that he had to force his eyes up to meet Kaidan's.

**Keep reading underline or go to AO3**

He knew his jaw was hanging open slightly. He briefly wondered exactly how in shock he most looked. Or was it confusion? Fear?. He couldn't tell himself if he were to be honest with himself. He’d figured that ship had sailed, but he’d been wrong. So many questions ran simultaneously in his mind and he couldn't seem to turn off the off switch this time.

But one question spoke the loudest to him; why didn’t she tell me?

“Come back to bed?" Kaidan offered a hand out and Axel accepted it, gratefully allowing himself to be guided back to their bedroom. He was truly in need of this comfort right now and Kaidan was graciously given it out to him. One of the reasons he loved the man so much, he always seemed to know what to do whenever Axel needed him the most.

Crawling back to bed, he pulled up the sheets on top of them both and wrapped his arm around Kaidan's waist. Kaidan turned to face him, intertwining his fingers with Axel's hand that laid between them, though said nothing. He didn't have to. Axel could read his eyes, and they spoke to him at a level that even words could not express. I'm here, and I'll be here when you're ready to talk. He didn't have to hear Kaidan speak to words aloud, because their connection ran deeper than just their love for one another. They understood each other in a way others couldn’t.

He kissed Kaidan on the forehead before closing his eyes and pretending to go back to sleep and he waited for the familiar steady breathing he knew meant his partner was in a deep sleep before pulling away and got dressed to head downstairs.  

~~~~~~~

The alarm clock blared and Kaidan turned to the otherside to turn it off. Facing back the way he came, he noticed the spot next to him where Axel usually laid was empty. He had grown accustomed to waking up and finding himself alone in bed. His husband had always been an early riser and that hadn’t changed since they defeated the reapers. 

Sliding to the edge of the bed, he swung his legs to the side, sitting up and stretched his arms high above him while yawning all at the same time. Quickly he activated his omni-tool to send off a message to his colleagues he wouldn’t be in the office and sent along the lesson plan for the day before grabbing his t-shirt from the foot of the bed and shrugging it on. 

Arriving into the kitchen, he found Axel hunched over a datapad, head resting in his hands and coffee mug in front him. But something struck out more than usual… his husband was dressed which was an unusual sight to see. Kaidan had always found it amusing and slightly distracting that his husband always seemed to like to strut around the house nude. Kaidan never complained about it, though. He poured himself a mug and topped off Axel’s before wrapping his arms around Axel’s shoulders and kissed him on the temple.

“Sorry. I didn’t-”

“It’s fine. What are you reading?” Kaidan, curious, asked him. 

“Alexandra Ashley Meagan Hawkings. Prefers to go by Ashley.” He inhaled deeply, letting himself sink against his husband. He distinctively noticed Kaidan’s biotic energy was much calmer than his right now and he tried to focus on that. He knew his energy was a hurricane next to Kaidan’s stillness of calm waters. 

“We could change it for her. Make Ashley her first name.” 

“I keep doing the math over and over again inside my head. Based on her birthday. Everytime I do, It keeps bringing me back to that night on Elysium.” Axel sighed, bringing down his arms to table and taking a tentative sip from his coffee.

“Melanie?”

“You heard that huh? My ex-fiancée.” Axel intertwined his fingers with Kaidan’s before continuing. “We were...hmm… two years together by then? Things were really good between us. We were both on leave on Elysium and I decided to finally pop the question. But then after Elysium, we were on medical leave for a while. She sustained a few injuries while leading a group to safety while I covered the rear. I got shot in the shoulder, and the leg, nothing major but enough to have to be off for a bit.  I received my N7 commendation. It’s what I had always wanted.” Axel exhaled loudly as he remembered the events that took place that evening. 

He continued. “Kaidan you should have seen the fear in her eyes. I swear, it’s like she was seeing a monster instead of me. I went out that night to have some drinks with some buddies of mine, when I got back to the apartment… she was just gone. No message, nothing. A few days later-”

“I moved in.” Kaidan finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah.” Axel trailed his fingertips of his free hand on Kaidan’s arm absentmindedly. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Kaidan tightened his hold on Axel and rubbed one hand against his bicep to comfort him. 

“I know.”

“Explains an awful lot, though.” Kaidan’s breathy laugh tickled Axel’s ear.

“Sorry. I was pretty moody. I tend to...er...rebound after break ups too. Though normally I was the dumper not the dumpee…. Hmm... Derrick was a real piece of ass.”  Axel glanced at Kaidan as he remembered one partner he brought back to the apartment to see his reaction only to find his husband in shock. He tried to bite his lips, but failed miserably and the corner of his lips twitched.

It took a moment for Kaidan to realize what Axel meant and when the realization hit him, they both burst into laughing.

“He did have a nice ass.” Kaidan admitted. 

Axel inhaled deeply before exhaling just as sharply. “I guess I’ll drive you to work this morning so I can go pick her up at the spaceport.”

Kaidan could feel the nervousness coming from Axel, his biotic energy felt more like a hurricane mirroring his internal emotions rather than the usual stillness of calm waters Kaidan grew to know so well. Kaidan let go of Axel and sat on the seat next to him, “no need. I really told them I won’t be in today. I figured I should be there as well to pick up our daughter.” He took his mug in both hands raising it to his lips but kept his gaze on Axel to watch for his reaction.

“Shit. I’m still wrapping my head around the fact I have a daughter and you’re already saying ‘ours’” Axel rubbed his hands over his face.

Kaidan glided the datapad close to him and opened a new tab on the extranet.

“What if she hates me? I missed her birth. Hell, I missed nine birthdays, Kaidan. Nine. And I didn’t even have a fucking choice in the matter.” Axel voice raised a couple octaves and he stood up abruptly stabbing a finger against his chest. Kaidan didn’t need to look at him to know his corona was flaring, the crackling electricity of the air as he manipulated the dark energy that surrounded them was indication enough. 

“There’ll be an adjustment period. But I don’t think she’ll hate you.” Kaidan kept his eyes focused on the datapad. His voice was steady and calm as always. 

“That’s a huge assumption.” Axel’s tone was a little more accusatory than he would have liked. 

“Gut instinct tells me she didn’t have a choice either and might be looking forward to meeting you.”

"You know... that means I can't be naked around the house anymore." Axel said matter of factly in a more calmer tone. 

"Moot point. I was wondering why you were dressed for once." 

“Better start getting used to it. What are you searching for anyway?” Curiosity picked, and Axel leaned over to looks as he picked up his coffee once again to drink.

“Adoption papers. They take awhile to go through. Figured I’d get a head start on it.” Kaidan remained hyper focused on the task at hand.

“You really meant it did you? Our daughter.”  Axel put down his mug and it was his turn to wrap his arms around Kaidan’s shoulders.

"Yeah. Our daughter." Kaidan was hung up on that word.

"Huh. I guess so… ours." Axel kissed Kaidan’s temple before exhaling slowly and laying his chin on his husband’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Axel paced along the aisle of chairs in the waiting room, wringing his fingers together.

“Are all vanguards so antsy?” Kaidan chuckled as he leaned back into his chair. 

Axel paused into his steps to turn a scowl in Kaidan’s direction. “You don’t survive CQC as a Vanguard if you don’t move.” He said a little snippy. 

“Fair point. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Why don’t you sit down before you pave a hole on the floor?” Kaidan patted the seat next to him. 

Sighing, Axel sat next to him, but it did nothing to calm his nerves, rather his left leg was restless and moved involuntarily. 

Kaidan placed a hand on Axel’s knee and squeezed. “Breathe. It’s going to be… it’s going to be what it is.” 

“Why do you always have to say that?” 

Kaidan chuckled, but otherwise remained silent. 

Restless, Axel stood up and immediately began to pace again. The butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t seize and he was sure his breakfast would come up if he didn’t keep his mind occupied with counting steps. One, two, three, four...eight rinse and repeat. Eight seats in a row, plenty of room for cover if need be. 

“Dad!” 

A voice broke him out of his thoughts and he sharply turned to the direction he heard it come from. 

Two things immediately stood out: the first was Kaidan was immediately at this side and reached for his left hand, second was a little girl with sharp bluish-hazel eyes framed with freckles ran in his direction. 

Kaidan pressed his wrists against his, he knew this was for comfort as much as it was a check in for his pulse. Once a medic, always a medic. 

Kaidan pressed his wrists against his, he knew this was for comfort as much as it was a check in for his pulse. Once a medic, always a medic. 

“See. I told you it would be fine.” Kaidan lowered his voice so only Axel could hear him.

Surprisingly strong arms wrap around Axel’s waist and he is taken slightly aback for a brief moment, he was sure his eyes would fall out of their socket before he returned the hug while keeping hold of Kaidan’s hand. 

Bluish-hazel eyes looked up into his, pleading. “I’m ready to come home.” 

“Home. Yeah. Let’s go home” Axel exhaled, his lips curved slightly upwards, and a smile spread onto her face, and her eyes twinkled before she broke away.

A small hand grabbed his free one and she started leading the way, following the exit signs.

“Home.” Kaidan repeated the words, a smile on his face. He brought Axel’s wrist to his lips and kissed it, feeling his pulse against his lips, life. It pulses life. Life that had been taken away from him for two years, but now they had a lifetime to be together. Kaidan wrapped both his hands around Axel’s. “A lifetime of memories.” He whispered.

“What’s that, handsome?” Axel planted his kiss on the crown of Kaidan’s head.

“It’s nothing.” Yet it’s everything.

[conaionaru]

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless + Hvitserk)

Who is in control?

Synopsis: Skuld’s family leaves for the Mediterenean so she spends some more time with Ivar before he leaves as well.

Warnings: toxic relationship, casual sex, little bit of smut, talk of personality disorder, hints of sub and mommy kink, attempted good girl kink

Masterlist

I don’t own the gifs.

Today would be the day Bjorn set out on his journey, bringing everyone willing with him. Ylva sharpened her weapons peacefully, praying to the gods to keep her sons and daughter safe. The girl, of course, spends the day with Ivar once again. Loving the way the boy hangs onto her every word and challenges her right back.

So it was obvious that she slept with Ivar again. Out of all the men in Kattegat right now, her youngest had to choose Ragnar's son. Once upon a time, even Ylva found Ragnar worthy of her bed. But she was married and had too many children. All Ragnar ever wanted were sons to carry on his legacy; what a joke it would be if Skuld would be the one to carry on Ivar's?

What felt like a thousand years ago, she lest her beloved husband to Ragnar's whims. And so all her attraction to the handsome king faded as well. Now, whenever she drank, she dreamt of all the ways of paying him back.

But the great Ragnar Lothbrok was very capable of destroying himself on his own. Taking a second wife, not raising his son, nearly killing his youngest, and abandoning them all. Now he was just a shell, while she has everything: children, loyal followers and allies, riches, and a throne.

All her children made her proud, and the older they got, the prouder she became.

Egil was their first child and looked like his father with his fair hair. Very responsible, but he had her anger and temper. How proud she was when he presented Liv to her. His lovely wife gave him a daughter soon enough. And the glory of battle overshadowed the need for an heir. Liv was, of course, too content to tell him she wanted more children. So Egil sailed to possibly imaginary lands and left Liv and Kara to watch after the earldom.

Gunne was a troublemaker since birth, so keen to annoy people. He had no problem with women or battle. So when he settled down with Hjordis, Ylva believed her a witch. But he grew calmer and boasted about his pretty wife that could dance the whole night away and never tire. Out of all her good daughters, Ylva liked the cheeky Hjordis the most.

Another favorite was Þórfríðr, Stigandr's wife. The third born was everything Ylva hated. Silent, shy, and unsure. Þórfríðr charmed him because she knew what she wanted and told him to do the same. The only place he was sure and precise was the battlefield. People may underestimate him, but in battle, he would always win.

Despite being the fourth son, Brandr worried about his siblings the most. He had a pure heart and will of steel. No luck with finding a wife and giving Ylva more grandchildren, but that's not everything in life. What matters is that he survives and lives on.

Haldor may not give her any grandchildren, but that doesn't matter. His curly hair and adorable smile warmed her heart the first time she saw him. He didn't scream like the others, only whined and snuggled closer. That attitude never really left him.

Skuld was the youngest. A little bit spoiled, but she was where Ylva bet her money on. She was wicked, intelligent, and brave, so much like her mother. Sometimes, Ylva worried for Skuld's mind. The girl didn't cry either when she was born. There had only been silence. But the babe wasn't dead; it just looked around with tired eyes, silently judging everyone. The more Skuld grew, the stranger she seemed.

She didn't follow cry when she fell; friends always surrounded her that she didn't care about and had no problem with violence. At first, Ylva thought it was her brothers' fault, but when she found her eight-year-old cutting herself, she knew it wasn't the truth. Apparently, she wanted to see how blood looked like up close, and Brandr ran away before she could find out.

Over time, her behavior lessened, and all that was left behind was charm and cunning. But sometimes, Ylva saw the same dangerous glint in her eyes as that day. And yet, she thought of Skuld as her best child. Her youngest had the best chance of moving up in the world and becoming successful.

That's why she allowed this charade with the Ragnarsson. As long as Skuld was enjoying herself, the danger of her violent side was low. And a Prince was better than the usual company she kept.

"Aren't you a confident virgin?"

"I am not a virgin anymore; you know that," Ivar growled into her ear, flipping under him and changing the slow teasing pace that she set. "Are you not enjoying yourself?"

"I had worse." Skuld teased, wrapping her legs around his waist so he can go deeper, and scratched her nails down his nacked back. "But I also had better. So speed up, Ivar."

The Ragnarsson growled like a feral beast and bit into her collar bone to ground himself. With rougher trusts, he made the headboard bang against the wall so even his brothers will hear. He wanted them to remember the sounds and prove he was a man, and Margrethe just wasn't worthy of his cock.

Not like Skuld, who took his dick like she was born to do it. When she wasn't naked around him, she joked with him and smirked like a sly fox. To think that he didn't want her anywhere near him not even two days ago. And now, after round four, he felt like he found himself the perfect match.

"How about now?" He whispered into her ear; she didn't answer, probably didn't even hear him with how loud she was moaning. With one last high pitched moan, she shuddered under him and came. He followed five trusts later and collapsed next to her.

"A shame you will leave soon. Your mother will probably give me the cold shoulder the moment you sail off."

"Why?"

Skuld chuckled and rolled over to drape over his sweaty torso. "Her darling boy is leaving on a dangerous journey. And he chooses to spend his last moments home, fucking the guest." 

"Mother had me my whole life. It's only fair you had me for a little bit. I am doing what she asked of me before you came here." Ivar chuckled and pulled her closer, careful not to touch her back. She had limits just like him, he never showed his legs, and she never turned her back to him or let him touch it. Whatever the reason, he didn't really care as long as he got laid. "I am being a good host and paying you attention."

"How nice of you." She teased back, sitting up and leaving his bed again. This time not only to drink something like before. She picked up her discarded orange dress and put it on.

"You leaving already?"

"I have places to be. They are sailing away today, remember? I can't warm your bed for the whole day. I need breaks too."

"Not necessarily. You can still walk. That means you can come a few more times."

Skuld smirked at him and brushed his hair away from his face. "I created an insatiable monster."

"You could sate the beast like a good girl." Ivar tried the words, waiting for any indication that she liked the new kink. But Skuld chuckled and trailed her hands down his chest to paw at his cock.

"Or you could take what is offered and stop complaining like a spoiled brat. Be a good boy and get dressed." She drew her hand away from his lap and left him alone, looking dazed from her words. With a chuckled, he threw the furs off and left his bed.

Skuld walked to the shore where everyone was already present. Haldor was chatting with another man who enjoyed the attention. Her brother had some fun before he was supposed to leave as well. Good for him.

"I was worried you wouldn't see me off, Sweetheart." She turned on her heel to see the Ragnarssons standing there, waiting for their mother to stop talking to Harald and say her goodbyes.

"Maybe I came to take you to Valhalla before you could slay any enemies. Who are you to know?" Hvitserk grinned at her bold joke and moved closer to her.

He leaned to her ear and whispered softly. His breath lightly teasing her skin. "A shame I didn't have as much fun as you did. You are rather loud, you know?"

"I am aware, thank you. Thank the gods your brother will leave soon. Otherwise, I will die of exhaustion."

"I could talk to him if you want," Ubbe suggested only for her to shake her head.

"Let him. I am sure you were all the same. I still see the insatiable spark in your eyes as well." With the last sentence, she turned her eyes to Hvitserk, who was not hiding the fact that he ogled her chest. The second oldest smirked at her, no hints of shame, watching her as her oldest brother whisked her away.

"Another Ragnarsson, really? Isn't one enough?"

"If I were you, I would worry more about my survival than my sister's bed friends."

Egil rolled his eyes at her attitude and led her to the rest of their family, waiting for her. "Why, you think I won't make it? Do you truly have so little faith in me? Who do you think I am?"

"I think you are an idiot and annoying. Now leave me be, Egil." She seethed back at him and strode over to the rest of their family.

Ylva smiled a sad smile at her and drew her youngest to her. With uncharacteristically soft hands, she took her face in her palms and stroked her cheeks. "Stay close to Aslaug. She won't let anything happen to you."

"How can you be so certain? She has no place in her heart for anything other than her sons and wine." Skuld rolled her eyes at her mother's advice. She still saw the plan to leave her behind as a stupid decision.

It would have been better for Skuld to stay in Yugar and rule in her mother's place, instead of the three good-daughters that had the duty now. Placing her in Aslaug's household was a strategic move, a sign of trust and peace. If the Queen were to break it, she would face the rage of the Lioness and her five ferocious cubs.

"Maybe not, but she is clever and knows how to avoid war. Our relationships have strained enough thanks to her husband. The very one she despises as well. So going against him and entrusting you into her hands..."

"Is the perfect way to give her a sense of power with her hands still tied." Ylva nodded and kissed Skuld's hair as one last goodbye before departing for her journey. She hugged all her brothers as well. No matter how annoying they would get, they were family. And family always supports each other, especially if possible death looms over them. And with their tendency to get hurt in battle, this may be the last time they see each other.

"Keep your wits sharp, Skuld. May Freya protect you." Gunne whispered into her ear and passed her something wrapped in a cloth. He winked at her as he departed and sailed away.

Skuld's face was devoid of all emotion as her family grew smaller and smaller. In Kattegat, she was a stranger and probably rumored a whore. How much easier it would be for her to leave in the black of the night and return home—seeing Kara running around covered in mud while Liv scolded her halfheartedly. Hjordis stitching on the loom while Þórfríðr mocked her shaking fingers alongside Skuld.

But Ylva made a choice and gave her an order, if Skuld were to disobey, she would be punished. The last time she did it, her mother placed guards outside her door that chased away any lovers. Not even the thralls were allowed to be by her side. And that was only for being late to a meeting with another Earl.

When the small dots on the sea were gone, Skuld retreated to her family's hut. She sat down near the gone out fire and unwrapped the gift from her brother. Inside the cloth was a simple dagger with a wooden handle. It was light and easy to manipulate.

"Keep your wits sharp, huh?" She held the blade up for closer inspection and smirked in delight. It was a truly perfect gift. Skuld settled the dagger in her lap and teased her fingertips over the edge.

Skuld tucked the weapon away in her corset and left the silent hut. First, she must gather allies. And the best way to do that is to mingle with the common folk. Finding sympathies in Aslaug's court would be impossible; right now, the only trump card she holds over the Queen is that she saw her son naked.

The people in the market watched her walk by; she sent them smiles, playing the brave, lonely Lady. Slave traders, slaves, merchants, farmers - all useless to her right now. A merchant's ship would be a good escape in case of need. But they move on too fast, and she can't strike a deal with every boat that comes here. What she needs are whisperers. Little unseen things that will tell her all they know. And won't tell a soul they tattled to her.

"Margrethe! I would say it's fate that we meet, but that would be a lie. After all, I live where you work." The blonde slave smiled at her and shifted her hands in unease. "Would you like to walk with me?"

Of course, the girl had no other choice but to do as told. And so, Skuld led her away from the crowd by the arm. Smiling the whole time innocently. "Say, Margrethe... Does Ivar still bother you?"

Margrethe shook her head but still looked uneasy. She looked up at the taller female and leaned closer as if to tell a secret. "Did he...Did he hurt you?"

Skuld chuckled and pulled the scared girl closer to whisper into her ear. "In a way. But nothing I didn't like. Did he hurt you?"

"Yes."

Skuld frowned at the revelation. "Since the feast?"

"No... I only see him during meals. He doesn't even look at me." Margrethe confessed and looked at Skuld in confusion. It was weird of a foreigner to question thralls like this. The only one who ever asked her if she was okay was Sigurd, and he fucked her right after.

"That is good. I saw how uncomfortable you were that night. And I felt sorry. I also wanted to apologize for my flirting. I was drunk and wanted to lighten the mood. But I think I just made you more uncomfortable."

"It is alright."

Skuld shook her head and let Margrethe into an empty alley away from prying eyes. "Ivar is a cruel person, as we both know. And it would be better for everyone if they didn't know what we know. Or he might become even worse."

"I don't know what you are talking about." Margrethe denied, fully well knowing what the Earl's daughter was talking about. There was only one thing connecting them, and that was that they both slept with Ivar. Or attempted to in the thralls case.

"He told me, Margrethe. There is no need to deny it. And we don't have to talk about it. I know that night must have been scary. I just want you to know not to tell anyone."

"I told." The blonde whispered, scared, her eyes terrified. Skuld wondered what the cripple Prince did to her after he failed to get hard. A simple failed fuck would scare her so much. "I told Sigurd."

Skuld bit her lip at the dumb girl's actions. Scared or not, seeking refuge by the brother that spat venom at Ivar was stupid. One argument, and he might use it against Ivar, leaving Margrethe as the only possible source, especially when Skuld told the brothers that she and Ivar had no such problems.

"Don't worry. If Sigurd thinks you a liar, he won't spread the news. All I must do is prove them wrong. I did most of the job already. Just a few more things, and he will think Ivar more than capable."

"And how will you do that?" The wide eyes blonde stepped closer to Skuld. Trying to hear what plan the young female hatched.

Skuld leaned into her ear and whispered slowly, watching for any possible interruptions or witnesses. "Go to a healer and ask for Moon tea. Mention my name as often as possible. Ask for some herbs against pains as well. Say he left marks, and I ordered you to go there. Say anything that might sell the story, bruises, bite marks, even blood."

"Tell some slaves as well - the ones that spread the most rumors. I will walk with a slight limp and wince when I sit down. Moan and scream louder than before so everyone will hear. If they ask you what happened that night, you tell them naught. Deny any accusation and seem shifty. As if you lied about the whole thing."

Skuld pulled away after she was done whispering and watched the thrall try to remember the plan. "That will work. Thank you."

"No need to thank me. We, strong women, should work together. That's the only way we might survive men like Ivar. Always one step ahead. If there is anything you know that could help us..."

"The Queen..." Margrethe trailed off, not sure if she should tell or not.

"Yes..."

She swallowed and looked around as if the woman would jump out at any moment. "She isn't fond of you. This morning she ordered Ivar to stop seeing you, but he protested and said he wouldn't. She thinks you a spy or that you have ulterior motives. Hvitserk just thinks you horny."

"That's more or less it. I am also bored and want Aslaug to regret her choice of taking me in. I could be at home annoying my good-sisters and niece instead of diddling her darling son. But thank you for the information anyway. I will remember your words well. Now go before someone finds us."

Margrethe ran off as Skuld watched her go, a deep sense of satisfaction sets in. Playing kind and concerned was as easy as breathing by now. Faking what people want to see or hear is easier than others think. Soon enough, they turn into little birds, fluttering around and gathering whispers and rumors—easy pray and yet useful. The more they believe you protect them and care for them, the more loyal they become.

During the night, Ivar sat next to her, propped on one arm. He was leaning over her with a frown on his face and kept pestering her. "Then why did you come to my bed if you don't want to sleep with me?!"

"I was lonely." Skuld shrugged her shoulders and looked at him with a teasing smirk. She was not hiding the fact that she is lying right into his eyes. "And maybe I wanted to be toughed kindly instead of being mauled by a beast."

Ivar looked away from her and laid back down. Refusing to even look at her as a spoiled child would. "Oooh. Don't be like that, Ivar. I want affection, give me some, and we can play." The young Prince continued to look away, pretending that he didn't hear her.

Skuld pulled a face at his stubbornness and rolled onto her side to catch his gaze. "Don't make me beg..."

"If you keep being difficult, I won't get in the mood at all..."

Skuld rolled her eyes, and forcefully turned his head to her. She held his cheeks in a tight grip, digging her thumb into his jaw in a warning. "I don't like being ignored, boy. So either you pay attention, or I will leave you to play all by your lonesome. How embarrassing would that be, huh?"

Ivar watched her with nearly black eyes, charmed by her rough treatment, and hissed words in a fake sweet tone. "What do you want?"

Skuld smirked and loosened her grip a little, caressing the tender spots with her thumb instead. "Hold me for a bit, and you can do what you want later on."

"Anything I want?" Ivar rasped out, looking like an addict with his drug right in front of him but still out of reach. She smirked in victory and patted his cheek mockingly.

"Within reason and boundaries. You do anything I don't like, and you will be punished. I am not a slave; remember that." The Ragnarsson nodded and pulled her against his chest, stroking her auburn hair with uncharacteristic gentleness. Maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all and just needed a firm hand.

After the cuddles, Skuld kept her promise and let him fuck her how he wanted. The boy saw some positions that he wanted to try, so they had a few rounds before they were both spent. As Skuld laid on her back with Ivar sleeping with his head on her chest, she watched the shadows on the ceiling.

Her dagger was on the floor, buried under her dress. For whatever reason other than brotherly worry, Gunne thought she needed a weapon. What he knew, he didn't tell. But there was something big coming if he was worried for her safety enough to arm her.

Ivar whined on her chest and buried his head deeper between her breasts. One of them hidden under his calloused hand, sleepily squeezing the boob. She sighed and scratched her nails over his scalp to lull him back to sleep, choosing to rest as well.