#he knows i have a small blog following and apparently that is enough to assume i am running in the same social circles as literal princesse

[mimiatmidnight]

I love your new layout <3 so pretty! Any fashion prediction on Meghan's appearance in NY in DEC?

Aw thank you! 🥰 I figured, hell it's been long enough, time to grow up and finally install an actual theme lol.

For the gala, what I predict and what I want are two very different things haha. I tried to flip through some photos from this event's previous years to get a vibe, and it seems there is quite a range in the dress code of the attendees. Some of the women are in full formal evening wear and some are in, like, barely business casual. However, Meghan has proved in the past that she's not afraid of being the most overdressed person in the room, so let's cross our fingers that she holds true to that this year! (And promise that if you read through this long post full of evening gowns, and then she shows up in a pantsuit, none of you will make fun of me for dreaming 😭)

So let's start with the more boring, safe options. Meg has mostly not been one for extravagant appliques or patterns or textures. Especially in recent years, she seems to have favored simple, solid swathes of fabric that instead bring their interest with rich, vibrant colors, and occasionally a unique tailoring detail. If she follows this same path next month, I hope at least she shakes things up with a color we haven't seen on her yet, like the options I've got here from a mix of brands, including both Meg-fave brands and new-to-Meg brands.

Starting with Safiyaa, we've got this fun hot pink Barbie moment; a very regal periwinkle; a lovely pale yellow; this soft pink that she's worn several times before in a warmish beige tone, but instead in this cooler-toned variety that I'd be curious to see her in; and this lush mint look that is certainly a well-worn silhouette for her, but with an interesting new neckline paneling.

Here are more options with the same idea as above, just from other brands outside Safiyaa. There's a Zuhair Murad in a brilliant orange, which she's never worn before; a Romona Keveza in royal purple; a Carolina Herrera in yellow-gold; a sort of Little Mermaid-esque ombré moment from The Danes New York; a Halston in bubblegum pink that I think would be so flattering on her; and finally, another dress from Carolina Herrera, that I'm pretty sure I picked just because it fondly reminds me of her famous 2019 red and purple look.

Now for the more fun, day-dreamer options. I'm hoping for GLITZ. It's been sooooooooo long since we've seen her in something sparkly, so here are some exciting pieces that I could still sOmEwHaT realistically see her picking out to wear herself. My top pick is this glittering dream (with my favorite, PLEATS!!) from Paolo Sebastian AW22-23. I could also easily see her in this silver-rooted look from Georges Hobeika FW22-23. (I think it's reminding me of something she wore in the past, but I'm not sure what. Maybe a mixture of her ODLR bird dress and the Safiyaa halter she wore to Royal Variety? Idk)

I'll admit that these next two are less about realistic expectations, and more about squealing "OOH SPARKLY!!!" First, a column of pure glitter gold from Naeem Khan F22. Next, a festive emerald JUMPSUIT (!) from Elie Saab FW22-23.

Bringing this back a bit closer to earthly expectations, I've got these options in descending order of formality, so it depends on how dressy Meg is feeling. We've got an elegant splattered gown, again from Naeem Khan F22; a lovely pleated dress with gold foil detailing from Marchesa Notte; and last but not least, if she absolutely must revert to her favorite look of all-black pants, why not jazz it up with some fun sleeve paneling, like this jumpsuit from Safiyaa.

And to finish this whole thing off, just because I'm so charmed by the idea of predicting these two side-by-side, a blazing flame by Elie Saab and a mesmerizing ripple of water from Rene Ruiz.

And that's my list! Anyways, see y'all next month when, with my luck, Meg shows up in slacks.

[yan-lorkai]

i've been thinking about something and i thought you should hear it too,

mc is lilith's descendant but they're also a creation of the brothers' hatred for each other. like how lucifer was feeling so much wrath he created satan, the brothers' hate for each other created a curse and gave mc life [let's assume their mother couldn't have a child for the sake of this au-]

so when mc learns this, they try to stay away from the brothers as much as possible. how do you think the broters would react? [btw you're my fav yandere blog, keep up the great work, ily take care of yourself <3]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ A/N: This is certainly interesting, darling. Got me thinking about tons of things that could happen if this was the case. Poor Mc though, they already deal with too much! I hope you enjoy! <3

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ Warning: Yandere content, kidnapping, I think that's it? Let me know if I forgot a tag.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Assuming he didn't know this, Lucifer would feel stunned. Did the hate, agony and all the sadness they have felt for centuries culminate in one being? A being that also carries Lilith's blood? He remembers the first arduous days that followed after the war, he remembers how Satan behaved and screamed, how he felt everything at once without knowing what to do.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And he knows that up to this point, you must have had a pretty rough time growing up, being haunted by memories and events that you didn't see or witness, being tormented by their suffering without knowing what's up with you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You want to pull away and run away when find out about your origins, and honestly he understands. Lucifer understands but he will not allow this to happen. Just as you fixed his family, he and his brothers will help you process and deal with all of this. Even if you're screaming and crying at them, trying to escape them, trying to disappear from their lives. It's all for your own good, he assure you.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Mammon is the most empathetic of the brothers, as well as being the one who spends the most time with you since the beginning of the exchange program. It was clear that he noticed that you had your moments of anger and bitter hatred or long periods of sadness, even without an apparent reason. And he tried to help you the best he could. When the cause of your problem was revealed, Mammon tripled his efforts to help you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You are family and families help each other. Even if your family is hysterical and trying to disappear because of the conflicting feelings they have. Memories can't be erased like that and yes, it's unfortunate that you are made up of all their suffering, but he won't let you get away that easily. So run, scream and fight with him, with them, Mammon will make sure that at the end of the night you are back home.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For Levi, this is all a bad joke, the plot of a terrible anime. He remembers how he felt during each of the celestial wars, but most of all he remembers the war that caused his downfall. There was so much pain, so much suffering everywhere he looked. Heaven lost its brilliant children, his angel brothers would carry a weight in their hearts and a bitter memory of the events; the first time angels were cast out. As a general, especially after the fall, Levi had no intention of continuing to live anywhere other than the home he was given.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ His room was his safe haven, where he could cry and vent alone. Where he could exist without fear of judgment and the tragedies that haunted him. Knowing that you are the result of all this makes him immensely sad, despite this he doesn't know how to comfort you because everything he knows as comfort may not be enough for you. But he doesn't intend to give up so easily, even if in small steps Levi tries to look for ways to show you that you has no reason to fear, now that you knows about your origin, there's no reason to stay away. On the contrary, this could be worse now.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ It may not seem like it, but he knows exactly what kind of thoughts are running through his head and the heads of his brothers. A general knows how to read his opponent like his own hand and knows that having a focused and calm mind is the key to the situation. He knows that if he joined forces with each of his brothers, you wouldn't stand a chance. You are theirs now and forever.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Satan knows what it's like to exist feeling only one emotion, so he completely understands how conflicted your feelings must be and, while he himself feels conflicted between letting you go to mentally heal and processing everything, he also wants to keep you close.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ However, if you really want to leave then he will go with you and this is non-negotiable. The others are hunting you and only he can take you through shortcuts and open portals, you need him. He is someone who can support you in difficult times and rinse your tears, to cheer you up, get you out of bed and make you forget your problems, like he wished someone had done when he came into existence. Even though a part of him feels really smug for being the one who shares a strong bond with you; being created against your will through a feeling that does not define you.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Asmo didn't even know something like that could be possible, but then again he also didn't know that someone could feel so much anger and literally give birth to a new being. He is surprised, quite surprised by the revelation that you are kind of a creation with Lilith's blood but also with a little bit of his brothers, their feelings and thoughts. And he wants to help, but like Levi he's not sure how to help.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ So instead he spread word for his followers to keep their eyes wide open and if they see someone who reassembles you, then to tell him immediately. You can run away all you want but you can't truly escape him and his brothers, as many eyes are on your back wherever you are.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you're back he is affectionate as usual, kissing your cheeks and wiping your tears as you cry. Yes darling, everything it's too much and you need some time to process all those facts but you are gonna face it this with him and his brothers, you are part of the family after all.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Beel feels sad knowing that you were born surrounded by pain and the terrors of war they all felt, they got better through the years, overcomes their pain and accepted Lilith's passing. There's still some issues they have to fix, but each brother is doing everything they can to found you when you run away. And Beel goes around Devildom with Belphie to search for you on your favorite spots.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He knows it may be painful to be near them right now but Beel can't let you go. He already let Lilith go because he couldn't protect her but he sure can protect you, even if he has to protect you from yourself. When he finds you, Beel throws you into his arms and hurries home, without carrying how you punch and scream at him to let you go.

⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Belphie knows that instead of thinking how you feel and how bad your life was dealing with their sorrow, it's the first to act. He knows you well, knows how you think, what you feel and how you react to thinks, more times than he should Belphie used to invade your dreams without you noticing just to watch you, to study you. Sometimes to come closer to you, to hold your hands and ask for forgiveness for how wrongdoings. You never remembered though, he didn't want you to remember he could do this.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In all your dreams though you always had a particularly spot that you loved to go and hide when you needed some time alone. He take Beel with him when they go, he knows you're there, he can feel it. And when they find you, Belphie puts you to sleep with his powers. His brothers can comfort you with their words and affections meanwhile he could work with your unconscious.

[fireinmywoods]

I’ve been reading Kirk/McCoy on and off for like 10 years now, and you - through your fic and this here blog - are like single handedly responsible for dragging me back into it this time around. I wondered about any head canons you had around Leonard’s childhood and teenage years. We at least get a glimpse of young Kirk and young Spock in the movies, but nothing for McCoy, and I’m very curious about your take.

Oh, I have plenty of thoughts around Leonard's youth, though I'm afraid it's hard to recall what's already made it into posted works and what's still buried in WIP drafts, so forgive me if I get a little slip-slidey. Some of this is semi-canonical, some I've just made up for Reasons, but I think it's all plausible enough!

1. Leonard grew up as the only son of a prominent family in the (fictional) small town of Marysville, GA.

Extended universe canon has it that his paternal grandfather was Chief of Medicine at Emory in Atlanta, which I think we can reasonably assume is still the top hospital in Georgia as of the 23rd century. And of course his father was a doctor as well. So he comes from a solid line of highly educated and successful professionals.

Leonard is semi-canonically from Atlanta himself, but I've gone ahead and rejected that, because no fucking way was that folksy-ass motherfucker (who is after all "just an old country doctor") born and raised in Atlanta proper. (Though it is also extremely funny to me to imagine him as some city asshole cosplaying as a hayseed for some mysterious reason, knowing damn well that no one else on the Enterprise knows enough about Georgia to catch him out.)

To reconcile this, I've decided that his mother's family was originally from [vague hand wave] some ways outside Savannah and that Eleanora didn't much care for city living, so after getting married, she and David moved to Marysville, where they were initially viewed with some suspicion as outsiders (and high-and-mighty city slickers, at that) but in time came to be accepted and respected as pillars of the community.

2. He was the only grandchild on his maternal side and spoiled rotten by his granny and granddaddy.

The family alternated holidays between David's parents in Atlanta and Eleanora's parents near Savannah, and while Leonard loved both sets of grandparents, he preferred being at his granddaddy and granny's place and often accompanied his mama on extended summer visits. The McCoys were kind but a bit more serious and reserved, with a beautiful home filled with lots of things little boys weren't allowed to touch. Much more fun to run around orchards sticking worms in his pockets and getting into mild mischief. It didn't hurt that Granny was a superb baker (and also known for her eggnog, as noted in pentimento).

Fun fact: it's his granny and granddaddy's home outside Savannah (which tends to get a lot of there-and-gone afternoon thunderstorms in the summer) where his childhood memories take place in sforzando.

3. He was a mama's boy.

He looked a lot more like his father and of course went on to follow in David's footsteps as a doctor, but personality-wise, he's much more like his mother, who shared a similar blend of fussing over her brood and low tolerance for bullshit.

4. He was raised up right. Theoretically.

Look, an attempt was made, okay? Someone - many someones - for sure gave that boy all the right home training. He's from two long lines of born and bred Georgians, and there is absolutely no way he wasn't rigorously trained in appropriate manners, decorum, and housekeeping. He even did cotillion classes, remember! (Jim definitely remembers. Jim will never, ever forget, nor let slip an opportunity to bring it up.)

So his elders tried. And as noted in pentimento, his parents did their best to work with him on his temper when he hit his teen years and started blossoming into the mouthy hothead we know and love. It's not his their fault he grew up into such an irascible old cuss who's apparently determined that the genteel passive aggression he grew up steeped in must sometimes be supplemented with full-on aggressive aggression.

I guess what I'm saying is, you can't blame his raising for why he's so Like That. That's sheer force of personality, baby. (I mean, aside from the part where he enjoys swanning in to inquire about his frenemy's troubles and drop a "helpful" and vaguely insulting pearl of wisdom before swanning back off to gossip about it with his bestie. That there's a Southern specialty.)

5. He was fairly popular growing up.

I recognize I may encounter some skepticism on this point, given the, uh, everything about the grown-up Leonard we know and love, but let's look at the facts.

He was from a good family, which goes pretty far in a town like Marysville.

He's exceptionally smart and hard-working as an adult, and given where he ended up career-wise, one can imagine he must have done well in school. I've even gone so far as to decide he skipped a couple grades at some point, though admittedly that was partly an effort to make sense of his timeline so that he could be a fully trained doctor by the time we meet him on the shuttle at 28.

So anyway, he was smart and a good student - but as Jim intuited in pas de deux, it wasn't the sort of disquieting freaky-smart that made baby Jimmy something of an outcast in his own small town. Leonard's was a more...palatable intelligence, let's say. And it helped that he was also a jock.

Yeah, you heard me. The extended universe indicates that baby Leonard dreamed of being a pro basketball player, and as an adult he is in suspiciously good shape for a man of science, so I went ahead and had him play basketball in middle and high school until a knee injury took him off the court for good.

So in summary: smart, good family, an athlete, well-mannered, and looks like young Karl Urban? Yeah, I'm pretty sure my guy did just fine among his peers, introversion/short fuse/social awkwardness be damned.

In fact, I'm looking forward to introducing you to some of those peers in the high school reunion fic! Assuming I can manage to finish it before the heat death of the universe!

That's all I've got off the top of my head. I'd love to hear anyone else's ideas too!!

[nanlanmoarchived]

I posted 3,004 times in 2022

That's 1,279 more posts than 2021!

840 posts created (28%)

2,164 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@boss @talesfromthevoiid @thefreak-86 @leneemusing @kniightharrington

I tagged 2,953 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#ooc - 739 posts #; memes - 506 posts #about jess - 207 posts #v; you are my sunshine - 200 posts #otp; don't feed me i will come back { steve } - 188 posts #v; new monster in town - 170 posts #v; where you lead - 141 posts #intothevxid - 120 posts #kniightharrington - 100 posts #v; we fell in love in october - 98 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#// i went ahead and dropped this into my stranger things verse where she lives in hawkins but if you'd prefer something else let me know! 💗

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@offorester​ gets a loosely plotted thing! 

“You didn’t have to come with me.” Jessica offered softly, a sheepish smile pulling at her features. Apparently fitting in was going to take a little more time than she’d expected, the clique of girls she’d caught gossiping about her having pushed her almost over the edge of losing her temper. Honestly she wasn’t even sure why they’d invited her. It wasn’t like they were really friends, they’d just been in a group together in class and she over heard them talking about the night’s festivities. She supposed maybe she shouldn’t have asked about it but weren’t parties what normal teenagers did? 

She’d been grateful when she found Dean amongst the party goers, though admittedly the ease with which he’d clocked her feigned disinterest in the party for the slight it’d actually been made her wonder if such occurrences weren’t all that uncommon in the quaint little town. She smiled up at him as the din of the party faded back into the background, the night’s sounds replacing music and hollering with crickets and sprinklers. “I’m okay, I promise.” Her head shook lightly, eyes rolling as she looked to the sidewalk ahead, “Mean girls aren’t anythin’ new, I’m just not good at dealin’ with ‘em.” 

25 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

#4

semi-plotted starter for @putyourbabyfangsaway​!

When Jessica imagined getting married, she’d always thought it’d be a small ceremony. Maybe a quick run to the court house with a party of a reception to follow, but that was back when she’d assumed she’d stay in relative obscurity. Being the King of Louisiana’s progeny had come with a certain amount of media focus but once power shifted and she’d stepped into the limelight, she’d realized just how much that required. 

The whirlwind relationship and engagement struck up between her and the King of Mississippi had largely been a media ploy. He was sweet, older than her but turned in his late teens as well, so at least they had that in common. They’d struck up a friendly enough relationship that when they’d decided to marry, the internet was taken by storm and honestly, she hated it. The eyes on her at all times, the focus on every detail. Apparently Americans hated vampires until there was a wedding to plan. 

Honestly, Jessica shouldn’t have been surprised when Eric Northman turned back up. Her engagement had been plastered all over the internet and television and while they may not have broken up on exactly bad terms, she hadn’t tried to chase after him. “And to what do I owe this honor, Mr. Northman?” She offered with a sigh, sorting through paperwork on her desk. 

33 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

#3

@thefreak-86 gets a plotted starter! 

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Jessica had been a live wire for days since Chrissy’s death and the grotesque murders that’d followed and Eddie being made a suspect. The news made her sick to her stomach, not only for the students who’d died far earlier than they should’ve but for Eddie and all of the cruel things people were saying about him. They hardly knew him and yet he was the first to be blamed. Much to the vampire’s chagrin, her Maker had gone on the defense. No matter how much she protested, he was certain she’d had something to do with her classmates’ deaths and so she’d been grounded with a command and all she could do was beg for some piece of news from her “friends.” 

From what she could sense, Eddie was okay. Anxious, scared, but alive. The redhead had begged for days on end to be able to go to him, to bring him home to hide out as all of this was figured out but Bill wouldn’t budge. He’s got enough to deal with and the last thing we need is attention comin’ our way. And so she waited, clinging to that familiar connection that’d built between their blood. 

And then one night it changed. That shadowed version of Eddie that lived within her was painted technicolored with emotions, swelling with the ebbs and flows of whatever he was doing and she smiled, excited that whatever was going on was so different than before. Until it wasn’t. Until that aching fear, the sting of-- She couldn’t tell but intrinsically she knew something had shifted. And then he started fading, slipping from that familiar bond and sending the redhead scrambling for her Maker. It only took a moment of begging, her upset a live spark threatening to burn the house down and taking Bill with her. Bill, he’s dyin’ I can feel it. I can’t let him die. 

There was no time like the present for the younger vampire to learn how to follow that tie she’d created with Eddie (something she and Bill would definitely be speaking about later), and the sound of Dustin’s voice screaming for Eddie pointed them the final stretch. Jessica’s gaze went to the hole in the ceiling that Dustin was screaming into and her stomach lurched. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t good. Neither she nor Dustin took more than a second of clarification before the vampires joined in building a tower tall enough for the three of them to tumble through the ceiling. The details could be hashed out later, right now they had a mission. 

This place felt wrong and it was almost as distracting as the gossamer thin bond still linking her to Eddie. Time was running out. Dustin spied his body first and her heart sank. She was on the ground beside him in the blink of an eye, cool palm shaking as it brushed over his forehead, “Hey, hey, hey, you’re gonna scare Dustin.” She teased with a trembling voice as she clamped down on her tears. The last thing Dustin needed was that visual as Eddie lay hurt between them. “Everythin’s gonna be okay, you’re okay.” She pressed her lips to his forehead, “Bill’s gonna help, okay?” Crystal blue gaze scanned over his features. He was so cold already. Fuck. “Everythin’s gonna be okay.” 

45 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

#2

plotted starter for @thefreak-86 !

“I can’t give you a normal life!”

“You think I care for normal!"

"I don't know! Maybe one day you would! And you deserve to have that chance!"

That argument haunted the vampire for years after she and Eddie split. So many nights the words would come floating back to her, the look in his eyes as she hid the memories they’d made together as they agreed, and she’d inevitably reach for the phone. Before she could dial she always reminded herself: they’d had the fight for a reason. They’d made their pact for a reason. No matter how much her heart yearned for the boy who’d shown her the world, she would give him the opportunity to have the life that so many of their fellow Hawkins High School graduates had begun to set up for themselves. 

10 years. Ten years she navigated through a largely nomadic lifestyle, taking odd jobs here and there before inevitably checking back in with her Maker. She’d stay for awhile wherever Bill was then take off again, painting, writing, and exploring the world yet largely unattached to it. She supposed it was the countdown in her head. Every year that passed was a year closer to Eddie. Or so the selfish part of her hoped. She’d made a point to not keep up with what he was doing, pointedly avoiding Ohio all together if she could. In her heart of hearts she knew that if he was happy, she’d walk away for good. Stay away and simply cherish the time she’d had with him. But if he wasn’t. . . 

That was the thought as her VW bus eased to a stop in a quaint little neighborhood, across the road from the picture perfect house she could hardly imagine Eddie wanting to live in. Everything was so. . . Manicured. Jessica folded her arms over the top of the steering wheel, watching the windows for some sign of life. How would she be able to tell if he was happy without talking to him? She hadn’t really considered it, but as she studied the silver mini-van in the driveway she supposed it was because this was the last place she’d expected to find him. The redhead was about to look away and double check the address she’d been given from the Hawkins Alumni Association (a minor red flag that he’d even kept up with them that was now screaming in the back of her mind) as the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. At first she wasn’t certain it was her Eddie. Hair clipped short and tight, a dull suit hanging from his shoulders that’d turned him into a walking rectangle, and a fucking briefcase? Ginger brows knit together, that impulse control she’d so carefully built over the last decade slipping when it came to him. Let me see your smile, let me see that you’re happy she mentally called to him, but it wasn’t there. He looked tired. 

Before she had time to rethink anything she was hopping out of the driver seat, hands buried in her denim jacket as she lightly jogged across the quiet street, a smile playing her features, “Excuse me, sir? Know where a girl might get a bite to eat around here?”

50 notes - Posted June 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

@thefreak-86​ said :  ✴ for Jess’ reaction to Eddie kissing someone else

They weren’t anything official. They were flirty and they hung out and sure she found herself counting down the minutes until they were planned to see one another again but she hadn’t told Eddie that. So the sharp flame of jealousy wasn’t fair. It didn’t matter that as she watched his fingers weave into the other’s girl’s hair, she wished it was hers. She’d held back because of what she was. Who would want to kiss her? She’s technically dead. And so she swallowed once, then again, trying to push the knot in her throat down as she clutched the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles went white. She knew her smile looked strained but relief washed through her when she spotted one of her friends, “Sarah!” she called out, making a point to breeze just past Eddie and the giggling girl in front of him as she fell into step with the girl from her English class, “Hey! Let’s walk together, yeah?” Glassy gaze looked over her shoulder once more to see if Eddie even cared that she’d seen, then returned to the girl now gabbing beside her.

58 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[slasherhaven]

Hello! I adore your blog so much! Just a quick question, are you planning on doing part2 of 'Disruptive', Thomas x reader hc? Maybe reader finds out what happend to Ian and Cecilia (those were the names, right?)

Thomas Hewitt X Reader

Part 1 HERE

Disruptive Part 2:

Luda May had tried to shield you from the fate of your friends but you knew what was happening as soon as you heard Hoyt's gun go off. She held you as you cried, both from the feelings of betrayal and from the violence taking place outside.

She had continued to comfort you during the days following their deaths, shushing you and reassuring you. She had tried to get Thomas to see you, to take her role in comforting you, but he had refused each time. He was sure that you wouldn't ever want to look at him again, never mind be comforted by him. So, he took to avoiding you, assuming Luda May would bring you more comfort than anything else could.

Everything had happened so fast but you had managed to wrap your head around the main points and come to terms with them. Ian and Cecilia were dead, the family that you were now living with had killed them.

It was scary at first but the family never seemed to wish you any harm, Luda May always assured you of that. Even Hoyt refrained from threatening you or scaring you, apparently he hadn't been fond of your friends but had no real problem with you since you had been the polite one. Still, neither he or Monty went out of their way to make you feel particularly welcome.

In the end, you couldn't say you mourned your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend all that much, considering the betrayal they had committed. More than anything, you had been afraid about what your time in the house would mean for you. But...it had never meant you any harm, and you believed they would continue to welcome you in their home.

Luda May had apologised for your loss, apologised for what the family did but assured you that you were safe here. She had also asked you not to blame Tommy.

Some time passed and the family trusted you to move freely around the residence. You were still polite and undeservingly kind to the family, helping with chores and assimilating with the family relatively easily. You were a welcomed addition in everyone's eyes.

Still, Thomas was avoiding you and you had become highly aware of it. Now that everything had calmed down, you could notice the lack of the large man in every room you walked into. At first you thought it was a coincidence, now you were certain he was avoiding you on purpose.

Despite wishing that Thomas wouldn't keep avoiding you, you hadn't had much chance to confront him about it. At least, until today.

The house was pretty quiet and you were in the kitchen, having just finished some chores when you glanced out of the window. From your position at the window, you could see Thomas outside by the collection of cars. Hoyt must have asked him to strip down the newest car, the car you had arrived in.

You smiled to yourself, determined to take the chance to speak with him. Grabbing a chilled glass from the tray, you hurried outside and skipped down the steps.

It reminded you of a graveyard, cars in various states of distress lined up in the field. Some stripped down to their frames, others barely touched but parts rusting away.

"Thomas" you spoke as you approached him, getting his attention since his back was to you. You bit back a small laugh when he jumped and turned to face you, clearly surprised by your presence.

"It's hot, I thought you would like a drink" you offered as you held out the glass of freshly made iced lemonade.

He looked a little suspicious of your offer at first but his face soon softened before he took the glass from you.

He tensed some more when he realised what he had been doing as you approached. He glanced back at the before, looking nervously at you before hanging his head.

Even though he didn't say anything, it was like you could read his mind. He was worried that you would be upset about him stripping your car for parts.

"Don't worry. It was Ian's car, you can do whatever you want with it" you assured him with a small shrug, lazily kicking the flat tyre as if to further your point.

Thomas nodded, relaxing slightly, before drinking from the glass that you had so generously provided him.

You rocked back and forth on your feet for a moment as it fell silence, feeling a little awkward and sensing the tension in the air.

"Have you been avoiding me?" you finally asked, deciding there was no point dancing around the subject.

Thomas just shifted his weight, unsure of how to answer. He could be honest and say 'yes', but he knew that would sound rude, and surely you wanted him to avoid you. Or he could lie and say 'no', but he didn't want to lie to you and he knew you already knew the truth.

"It's alright if you have, I get it" you reassured him, not wanting him to feel guilty for it. "Just stop, okay?...I'm not mad at you and...and I miss you" you confessed, noticing how his eyes widened slightly at your words.

How could you miss him? You had only known him for a day before he started avoiding you. He supposed the only real company you had now was Luda May, so maybe...that was why you 'missed' him. He couldn't wrap his head around you having forgiven him and wanting to have him around.

"I have to get back before Luda May finds me gone but stop avoiding me, okay?" you spoke again when he didn't really respond.

This time, Thomas nodded, making you smile before running back towards the house. Thomas smiled to himself as he watched you run back into the house, hoping that you really had meant it and he wouldn't have to avoid you any more.

Thomas was true to his word and stopped avoiding you. Conversations should have been a little awkward but you found any silences comfortable and you kept the conversation flowing. He didn't talk, you had learnt that for sure now, but he listened intently and always responded in what ways he could.

Now, you spent more time with him that any other Hewitt. Now, he did the opposite of avoiding you. He was always around, seeking you out just for your friendly company.

You were thankful for those developments but a new concern was worming its way into your mind. Even when he wasn't around, you were thinking about him, you couldn't wait until you saw him again. Whenever he was around, you would smile, practically giddy to be around him again.

Could you be developing feelings for Thomas?

From the first day you met him, defending him behind the gas station, you had thought he was sweet. You had also found him attractive, tall with broad shoulders and strong arms. God, you wondered what those arms would feel like wrapped around you.

You could never make out all of his facial features because of his mask but you could see his eyes. Oh, how you adored his eyes. They were expressive and beautiful. You wanted to tell him that whenever you could see him doubting himself.

You wondered if he would ever take his mask off around you, if he would ever let you see his face. You had heard from Luda May that he had some sort of skin condition and that was what he was hiding, but you didn't care. You just wanted to see him...maybe he would even let you k-

"I'm so glad you and Thomas are talking again" Luda May's voice brought you out of your thoughts, reminding you of where you were. You were in the kitchen, helping cook supper, but had completely zoned out with thoughts of Thomas.

"He's a good boy and he likes you, he's just a little shy" she smiled to herself. She obviously loved Thomas and it did make you smile, it was sweet.

You sighed and you collected yourself, practically deflating as you pushed away the thoughts about Thomas. Yes, you could be honest with yourself, you had developed a crush on Thomas but it surely didn't matter. You doubted he returned your feelings, even despite how highly Luda May claimed he thought of you.

"It's alright, he was just worried about everything that happened..." you cleared your throat, hoping she hadn't seen the change in expression on your face. You didn't feel like being questioned about it right now. "Do you want me to come to the gas station with you tomorrow?" you asked, changing the subject. You didn't like the idea of her walking down there on her own.

"No, that's alright, dear. Hoyt is going to drive me up" Luda May assured you and you nodded. "I'll ask Tommy to help you out with some chores tomorrow, I'm sure he won't mind helping" she offered.

"Oh, I'm sure I can handle it" you shook your head, able to handle some clean up on your own.

"Trust me, dear, Tommy will be happy to help" she insisted, giving you a knowing look.

You were sure she knew something you didn't, but you couldn't question her about it because Thomas had walked into the room, making you both look back at him.

"Hey Tommy, we're almost done with supper" you told him with a smile.

"Would you help Y/n clean up after breakfast tomorrow?" Luda May asked and Thomas nodded without hesitation.

"Thank you, Tommy" you smiled at him. You tried to hide it but Luda caught the light blush on your cheeks as you turned back to the task at hand.

The next morning, Thomas kept his promise. Hoyt was taking Luda May to the gas station, Monty was passed out in front of the television, and Thomas had come to help you clean up in the kitchen. Well, he was supposed to be helping but he was basically doing it all, not letting you help when you tried.

He had been working in a comfortable silence for a while, as your mind ran while. You watched him work, watching the muscles of his back moving under his shirt, smiling at him whenever he glanced over his shoulder at you.

Sometimes you thought he might return some of your feelings but then your newfound insecurities would show their ugly faces. You used to be so confident in yourself, able to take rejection with understanding, it wouldn't shake you. But now you doubted yourself, now you couldn't stand the idea of Thomas not thinking you were enough.

You sat on the kitchen table, where Thomas had placed you and silently ordered you to stay making you laugh, and anxiously picked at the wood with your nails.

"Thomas?" you finally spoke, making him look at you. "Do I talk too much?" you asked. Ian had believed you were too much, too chatty at times, too eager, just too much and yet not enough all at the same time.

Thomas instantly shook his head. He honestly liked how much you talked, that you even wanted to talk to him in the first place. Your face would light up as you rambled about something that had happened that day, and it made his chest feel warm. He couldn't help it but smile whenever you talked so happily, even about the most mundane things.

You almost smiled but not quite. He seemed to be being honest, you didn't talk too much. He didn't think like Ian had...but that didn't help much.

"...do you think I'm attractive?" you asked quietly after a short moment of silence. You never thought you were the most attractive person in the world but you had been comfortable in your own skin, at least until you found out your boyfriend had been fucking your best friend for months. There had to be a reason for Ian to betray you like that, you must have done something wrong.

Thomas paused at your question, his eyes widening.

Surely this was a trick question, how was he supposed to answer that? Of course he did! Of course he thought you were attractive, but would you think it was weird if he said that?

Thomas had thought you were attractive from the first moment he saw you. He thought you were the kindest and bravest person he had met since you took that punch for him, and still smiled up at him like he was worth it. Ever since your first encounter with each other, he was smitten with you. And those feelings had only grown as he spent more time with you. He absolutely adored you. God, he wished he could tell you all of that...

You took his silence as a negative response. He didn't answer because he didn't want to hurt you...

"Sorry, you don't have to answer that..." you hung your head, looking down at your lap. You shouldn't have put him in that position, you shouldn't have asked.

Thomas panicked a little, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel bad. He just hadn't wanted to make you uncomfortable. He took a breath, trying to build up his confidence, before walking over to you.

You looked down at where your hand lay on the table when you felt Thomas' much larger one rest over yours. You teared your gaze away and looked up at him. He just nodded once you were finally looking at him again.

"Thanks, Tommy" you smiled. "I think you're attractive too" you confessed.

He pulled his hand away then, looking down at his feet. You were just being kind, saying what you were meant to say, or just straight up making fun of him.

"Hey" you frowned, quickly catching his hands in both of yours. "I mean it" you promised him as he met your gaze again, still looking unsure. "You doubt yourself too much, think too lowly of yourself" he tensed when you released on of his hands, bringing your hand up to his mask. "I don't know exactly why you wear this but I promise, whenever you feel like you can take it off around me, I will still think you're attractive" you promised, tugging on his hand to pull him closer.

Thomas let you pull him closer, swallowing the lump in his throat as he came to stand between your legs, hand still in yours. He had to do something, he had to savour the moment. Could you really be being honest with him?

He lifted his free hand and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making you smile softly up at him. He still didn't talk but you knew what he was saying. You too. You shouldn't doubt yourself, you were everything he could ever want, and he did want you.

Since you didn't pull away, Thomas' confidence began to grow. The hand he had hovering around your face gently cupped your cheek and he swore his heart skipped a beat when you nuzzled your face into his large palm.

Thomas wasn't Ian. Thomas clearly cared deeply about you, he wouldn't betray you, he wouldn't hurt you like Ian had.

You placed your hand over the only he held against your cheek, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm. Thomas just looked at you in complete awe.

It made him think back to the man you had arrived with, your boyfriend, Ian. How could Ian ever betray you like he did. Thomas had met your friend, Cecilia, and sure she was pretty but nothing when compared to you. And she wasn't even half as kind. Thomas would never hurt you like that, he couldn't even fathom it.

Here you were, tenderly kissing his palm and looking at him...lovingly, if he didn't know any better.

The sound of the front door slamming closed made you both jump, Thomas' hand falling from your face and landing instinctively on you thigh as you both turned towards the door of the kitchen.

"What the fu-" Hoyt began but cut himself off with a sigh and a shake of his head. "Y'know what, I don't wanna know. Just not in the fucking kitchen" he snarled before grabbing a beer from the fridge and leaving the room.

Both you and Thomas blushed at the implications of what Hoyt had thought you'd been doing, Thomas stepping away from you with an almost apologetic look.

"It's alright, Tommy" you smiled as you hopped down from the table. "Let finish up cleaning, okay?" you asked and he just nodded, assuming you were about to just ignore whatever the moment was that you both shared.

You smiled up at him again, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers through his, before guiding him back across the kitchen.

[jackrrabbit]

Sidekick /// Dabi x f!Reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Summary: During a rescue gone wrong, a rookie sidekick catches the attention of two villains.

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers!! This is the fic that made me create a smut blog/lowkey inspired this. imho this might be the spiciest thing I’ve ever written 😳 also wanted to call out @kazooli​ because this is highkey inspired by her lol thanks queen

Tags/warnings: quirk kink, reader’s quirk makes other quirks stronger, noncon, threesome, lots of foreplay, outdoor sex, mild overstimulation, degradation, mild violence, threats, chronological/temporal inaccuracies, fucking long

You can hardly be blamed for not recognizing them. It’s only been three weeks since you debuted as a pro, and you’re not even really a hero. You’re a sidekick, and apparently you’re not important enough to have been briefed on the major villains you need to look out for. You’re just…doing your duty. Rescuing civilians indiscriminately. Stupid, naive little sidekick. It’s not your fault that the lives you just saved belong to the two most notorious villains around.

Still, Shigaraki can’t wait to see the look on your face when you find out.

///

The disaster you ‘rescue’ them from—the League’s bar crashing down, the result of a small-time villain’s poisonous gas quirk—isn’t even a disaster. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but Shigaraki and Dabi would have been fine without you…even though both of them missed Kurogiri’s warp gate and ended up trapped under a wooden beam in the wreckage of the building… Okay, it’s more than a minor annoyance. Shigaraki hacks violently as the cloud of foul-smelling steam and powdered debris enters his lungs. The poisonous quirk doesn’t seem to be having the same acid-burn effects on his body as it did on the building, but he can’t assume it’s harmless.

Father… Shigaraki took Father off his face to drink at the bar earlier before the gas hit, and now in the confusion the severed hand is either buried underneath the rubble that used to be the League’s main base or somewhere else out of view. “Father? Father!” Shigaraki calls out, attempting to shift under the crushing weight of the beam.

“Shut up,” Dabi says from somewhere to Shigaraki’s left. “Kurogiri took it in one of the portals, I saw it.” He looks worse than Shigaraki feels—something hit him in the face as the bar collapsed, and a few of the staples (piercings? stitches? whatever) on his right cheek are torn open and bleeding.

“Are you lying to me?”

Dabi sneers and rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.” His palms glow blue and Shigaraki follows suit, letting four fingers sit on the wood that’s pinning both of them to the ground. It’s too heavy to lift, so they’re going to have to get rid of it…a task that seems significantly more difficult when it becomes clear that neither of them are positioned at the right angle to touch it.

Shigaraki tries to wrest his arm out enough for his thumb to touch the wood, but it’s impossible. Beside him, Dabi’s having the same issue. “Shit, I can’t reach—“

“Is someone there?” Confident, clear, and oddly robotic, your voice cuts through the din of gurgling water from cracked pipes and police sirens like a lit flare in the darkness. Shigaraki tenses and halts his attempts to get free from the beam, and a second later Dabi mimics him.

“I heard voices.” The same unfamiliar voice rings out through the half-light, now accompanied by a body—your body, taking a series of awkward jumps down the piles of rubble to land in front of the two of them. The outfit you’re wearing is ridiculous: a pair of metal boots that clang against the cement wherever you step, matching braces on your arms, and a space-age chrome motorcycle helmet to top it all off.

A hero. Shigaraki’s lip curls in disgust as your head turns his way.

You scan the scene quickly, eyes resting on the two men trapped in front of you for a moment before you turn back to the opening in the wreckage. “Found two civilians!” you call out to the rescue workers just in case they’re within earshot, although it’s unlikely.

Dabi snickers under his breath. Civilians? Even in the chaos, you should’ve known the second you saw them who you’re looking at. Are you faking ignorance? Got something up your sleeve?  It’s either that, or you genuinely don’t recognize them. Priceless.

You kneel down in front of the fallen beam and give a half-hearted attempt to pick it up. It doesn’t budge. No surprises there—if it were light enough for you to lift by yourself, the two men held down by it would have no problem getting out with their combined strength. You’re going to have to use your support gear to get it off them.

But first—you search for a memory of your rescue training. Reassure the victims. They’re probably panicking.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them, your voice coming out mechanical and distorted from the helmet you’re wearing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here to save you.”

This time, Dabi has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Ah, yes…they’re so lucky that there’s a do-gooder little hero around to rescue them, because they’d be helpless otherwise. The laugh is still audible, though, and Shigaraki shoots him a glare.

You raise an eyebrow at their expressions. Did he just laugh? Well…you’ve heard that people sometimes have inappropriate reactions in times of crisis. The dark-haired man seems more badly hurt, so you creep toward him first, careful not to disturb any of the debris and trigger an avalanche reaction. “I’m going to check your injuries now,” you tell him, and your gloved hand brushes away a sweep of spiky hair to examine the sizable red bump growing on his forehead.

Ouch…there’s no way that doesn’t hurt, but the man’s not letting any of the pain show on his face. Instead, he looks disinterested at best, and at worst? You almost get the feeling that he’s eyeing you up under your hero costume. Not that you can blame him. Damn this skin-tight bodysuit—it leaves basically nothing to the imagination.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask him. “I don’t think this is too serious, but they’ll look you over for a concussion when I get you to first aid.”

Dabi shrugs and you frown. Is the non-verbal response because of the ripped stitches in his face? Is it too painful to talk? Or could there be brain damage? Or maybe he’s just a man of few words or something…?

“Can you get on with it? Pick up the fucking beam already,” Shigaraki hisses.

Startled, you pull your hand away from the other man’s forehead. That ungrateful little…nope, nope, don’t get annoyed, he’s just in shock. “O-Of course, sorry. Just gotta make sure it’s okay to move.”

Luckily, the beam doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything else that’ll fall if you pick it up. You crouch down next to one end and steady your feet against the cement, lifting up with all your strength while activating the effects of the support items you’re wearing. When you feel the metal on your arm braces grow warm, you remind yourself again to thank the developer of your costume. You may not be a fan of the way-too-tight bodysuit that clings to everything, but the strength-enhancing armor that you wear on your arms and legs more than makes up for it.

A second later, you hold back a grin. It’s moving! You try to ignore the unpleasant screech of metal against stone as the beam slowly lifts into the air. As soon as the men get out from under it, you pant and let it crash back into the ground. “You guys okay?”

“Mm…yes,” Dabi replies, running a hand over the torn piercings in his cheek. “Got any more gas masks for the poison mist?”

“Don’t worry! The Commission is familiar with the villain who created it, and the gas isn’t harmful to anything living. Only buildings. It’s a troublesome quirk, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Then what’s with the helmet?”

He can hear the hesitation in your reply, even distorted and tinny through the metal speakers. “Uh…I, well…”

Now that you’re getting a good look at them, the two scarred faces in front of you seem weirdly intense, considering you’ve just saved them from a collapsed building. The dark-haired man’s eyes are…very, very blue next to the burned-looking skin underneath, and the other man’s greyish-blue hair isn’t quite long enough to obscure a pair of red irises that are scrutinizing your face with obvious hostility.

You give a nervous shake of your head to clear it. “Um, the helmet is…it’s dangerous if I take it off. I should get you guys back to the rescue area, I need to meet up with my hero…” Without thinking, you take a step back and then one more, not knowing exactly why you’re backing away when you’re supposed to be escorting them. “I’ll just lead the way?”

With your third step back, though, you bump into something hard. What was that? Your head jerks around but before you can identify what it is that stopped your retreat, you feel the faint sensation of something tapping lightly on the back of your helmet.

And then…it just…crumbles.

What just happened?

You cough and shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of dust. A breeze whips through your hair, sending a chill through you in more ways than one. How? No one pulled the helmet off; you would’ve felt it if they had. More dust sticks to your face, and you rub your eyes so you can open them.

Behind you, Shigaraki waits with outstretched fingers an inch away from your neck. If he had to explain the decision to decay your helmet strategically, he could—you’re a hero, a potential threat, and he wants to know what you’re hiding under that outfit just in case you figure out who they are and decide to turn on them.

But really? He didn’t think about it that much. It was an impulse reaction to you walking away from them; a tantrum. Child-like.

Once your stunned face is exposed, Dabi has to wonder what you were even trying to hide. You’re…surprisingly ordinary. Young-looking—a rookie, fresh from hero school graduations a few weeks ago maybe? Large, expressive eyes, lips parted in shock, but nothing particularly interesting. Shigaraki cocks his head to the side to study your face too, and both of them are so focused on your appearance that it takes a moment for them to notice the feeling.

Well, feeling isn’t really the right word, but there isn’t a word for the way your quirk works. Dabi’s eyes widen when it reaches him and behind you, Shigaraki stiffens. You notice.

There’s an involuntary quiver in your voice as you break the silence. “Y-You guys must have strong quirks if you can feel it just from that.”

Dabi sucks in a breath. So this is your quirk? It’s different…he’s never felt anything like it, not that he’s exactly sure what it is. There’s some kind of energy in the air around you that he’s breathing in, a feeling like taking a shot of espresso after days of sleep deprivation.

No, it’s stronger than that. The head rush after doing a line of cocaine would be a better metaphor.

Either way, he’s awake—more awake than he can remember feeling in a long time. Heat rises to the surfaces of his palms unbidden, his quirk appearing without him calling it. “What is this?”

“…It’s called Boost,” you say, licking your lips as a dry wave of heat radiates out from the man in front of you. “I can strengthen other people’s quirks. That’s why it’s dangerous—if the villain finds us—“

“It must have been hard to get through hero school with a quirk like that,” says a raspy voice from behind you.

What—? Your head twists around. When did he—

Shigaraki grips your shoulder with three fingers, holding just tightly enough to keep you from stumbling forward and away from him. His pinky and ring finger hover an inch over your costume, careful not to disintegrate the fabric he’s touching—although with the power sparking through his veins at the moment, it almost feels like three fingers would be enough.

“…Doesn’t really seem like the kind of quirk a hero has.” His voice, soft and pondering (a weird contrast to the harsh architecture of his facial features you’d seen earlier), feels very close to your ear. Something soft tickles your cheek. His hair?

A voice (an instinct?) deep inside of you is telling you to run. You ignore it. This is normal, right? It’s not uncommon for civilians who’ve just suffered a traumatic villain attack to have questions, even if those questions seem irrelevant to the situation at hand. You have to answer, even if your gut is churning. “I’m not really a hero. Not yet. For now, I’m a sidekick to one of the pros—and speaking of which, I really need to find—“

“But how does it work?” Dabi doesn’t notice himself making a conscious decision to step forward, but he does anyway and being closer to you feels right. He can see the trepidation on your face as he gets close enough to reach out and touch you, but you can’t really ask him to stay back, can you? Not when your quirk feels this good?

“I—“ Is it unreasonable that you think you’re being trapped right now? They’re just a couple of civilians, right? The question itself is common enough. People often wonder how you can be a hero. It’s a concern you’ve had to address dozens of times over the years. “Well, I work with rescue operations, especially with other heroes who have healing-type quirks. I can also assist in combat in some situations.”

“In combat? If you’re with a hero and a villain, you’ll enhance both quirks. Seems counterintuitive,” Dabi says, half aware that his voice is getting lower.

“And you clearly don’t have physical abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have…these.” Shigaraki taps three fingers on the metal brace on your right arm.

“The effects can be unpredictable. And I can increase the degree of the enhancement with physical contact.”

“Contact?”

“Yeah. The gloves of my costume come off. My quirk is way stronger when it’s skin-to-skin.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Shigaraki’s ring finger and pinky, which were hovering over the arm brace, come down to rest on the cold metal. The effect is instant: no crumbling, no slow decay—it’s there, and then it’s dust. His quirk in action, boosted by yours.

“What—What are you doing? What did you just do?” You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight by your collar. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, and in one long sloppy stroke, he licks you from your neck up to your jawline.

You shudder. So does Shigaraki.

“It’s my quirk,” he tells you slowly. His breath is steamy warm on the cold, wet trail of saliva painting your throat. “Decay. Have you heard of it?”

You flinch away from his hand and your back falls against his chest. Of course you’ve heard of the Decay quirk. You might be a rookie, but even civilians know about the young, impetuous head of the League of Villains. Jesus, how had you not recognized him earlier? White hair, red eyes…you should have known. You should have left him under that beam. “Shigaraki…Tomura.”

“So you’re not completely clueless. Do you know me, then?” Dabi asks. He would think he’s the more noticeable of the two (the burn scars usually identify him), but you just stare up at him with the same deer-in-the-headlights look as before. Smirking, he lights a blue fire in his palm and it jumps up toward your face—not just the small spark he intended, but a bright, high flame. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

“The Forest of Beasts incident. You’re the one who started that fire,” you whisper. You’ve seen the TV coverage of the attack on UA’s training camp, the abduction of that teenage student, the forest lit up blue from wildfire. No wonder his skin looks burned.

“Dabi,” he corrects you.

Breath is coming out of your mouth in shallow puffs. Are you hyperventilating? Is this what hyperventilating feels like? You’re definitely panicking. They’re so close to you, caging you in between them. The smoke from the blue fire is uncomfortably hot over the exposed skin of your face, and Shigaraki’s lethal hands are still touching you. If they want to kill you—and why wouldn’t they?—you’re fucked.

The flame goes out and Dabi’s hands come down to squeeze your wrists. His palms are hot like he was holding them in front of a lit stove. It’s not painful, but it’s a threat.

“I’ll fight,” you say.

Your voice is trembling, and Shigaraki likes it. The effects of your quirk, the way he felt when he licked your face… And you’re afraid. He can see it in your shoulders, the quivering of your torso pressed into him. It’s nice. He wants to feel it more.

You’re struggling against their hold, and Dabi feels the urge to laugh. “You’ll fight…the two of us.”

“If you try to kill me, I’ll—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Shigaraki’s hands flit down to your metal support gear and disintegrate it. Shit. He’s fast, and you’re helpless.

Dabi releases your wrists and cups your face in a mockery of intimacy. His eyelids flutter closed as his skin meets yours… Fuck, he could get used to this. You smell so good, sweet and soft and clean, like fruity shampoo. What is that, watermelon?

Life must be difficult for you, hm… Everyone around you must want to touch you constantly. It seems like Shigaraki enjoyed licking you—maybe bodily fluids are an even stronger conductor of your quirk? Pushing easily past your resistance, Dabi forces your jaw upward and kisses you.

Oh…yesyesyes, just like that. Perfect. Dabi has to bite down a groan as his tongue enters your mouth. It’s ridiculous for someone else’s spit to taste this good, but he’s right—your quirk is amplified by the contact from the kiss.

After a moment he has to break it to regain focus and make sure he’s not burning you. You cringe away from him, your cheek brushing against Shigaraki’s neck, but Dabi tangles his hand in your hair to pull you back. He runs a finger against your closed lips, letting the pad of his fingertip heat up until your mouth drops open in response to the threat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, voice laced with revulsion. Privately, you agree. What’s going on? You were sure you were about to be either burned to a crisp or decayed into the equivalent.

Dabi laughs under his breath. “Try it. It feels crazy good.”

Curious now, Shigaraki wrenches your head around and tilts your jaw up to repeat Dabi’s action. When you refuse to open your mouth, he taps your jaw warningly and a hiss of fear escapes you. Would he really kill you? He decayed your support gear so quickly—would it be the same for your body?

Well, what’s going to stop them?

You open your mouth.

Shigaraki’s lips are harsh and unsentimental against yours. His tongue sweeps over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He grips you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold with your head twisted toward his. You’ve never been kissed like this before. His spit—it’s in your mouth.

And Dabi’s hands are on your waist. “How do you get this thing off?” he murmurs, pinching the fabric of your bodysuit.

A surge of panicked adrenaline gives you the strength to pull back away from Shigaraki. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Are you going to stop us, little sidekick?” Dabi mocks. “I think I can burn it off without too much damage.”

“Let me.” Shigaraki takes hold of the cloth, careful so when it dissolves into dust his hand isn’t touching you, and within a second—a second—you’re left shivering in just your underwear and boots.

“Help!” The plea squeaks out and you hope blindly that there’s a hero close enough to hear you. But is there even anyone who can fight them? You certainly can’t. “Help me! Somebody!”

“Shut up.” Dabi sends up a tongue of flame from a fingertip and you shriek as the heat sears against you. “Oh, come on. You should feel lucky. Bad guys like us usually don’t hesitate to take heroes out.”

“I don’t— Please, I’m just a sidekick, I’m a rookie— What do you even want from me? Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone! Please let me go.”

“Well, I think I know what I want.” Dabi traces circles over the tender skin of your hips, playing with the elastic of your underwear. He meets Shigaraki’s eye over your shoulder. “I think he wants that too. Right?”

“Yeah, I want…I want to fuck her,” Shigaraki hums. This isn’t like him, but he can’t help himself. You’re different. Leaving you here and never feeling this stimulant again isn’t an option. He buries his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bites down on the soft skin there, and sucks.

You whimper, half from his answer and half from the sensation of his chapped lips on your neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you smell like something I want to eat. Especially this.” Dabi kneels down in front of you and hitches one of your legs up over his shoulder so you feel his hot breath washing over your clothed pussy.

You whine and attempt to wriggle back away from him, but Dabi’s grip on your thigh holds firm. His other hand brushes against the fabric of your panties to rub up against your slit and another surge of panic jumps up your throat. You can’t let him do this.

You kick your foot against his back, desperately attempting to make contact using the heel of the high boot that’s the only piece of outerwear still left on your body. It hits him awkwardly and he growls. “Damn it. Can’t you keep her busy?”

“Ahh…” Shigaraki ceases his oral assault on your neck and scratches a fingernail against one of the bright red marks marring your skin. He feels almost dizzy from the way your quirk is affecting him. Behind him, the broken expanse of wall digging into his back is the only thing keeping his focus. “Behave, sidekick.”

Before you can respond to the mocking title, Shigaraki’s face is against yours and his tongue is in your mouth again. Rough fingertips work up under the band of your sports bra and pushes it up over your tits. You screw your eyes shut at the sudden feeling of cold air on your nipples, and you know without looking that they’re standing up. Shigaraki gropes you thoughtlessly, keeping one finger lifted off of your skin, and you gasp on his tongue.

“That’s better.” Dabi’s mouth returns to brush against your panties. To be honest, eating you out isn’t the first thing on his mind. What he wants—what he really wants—is to shove you up against the wall and fuck into you and find out what your quirk feels like when you’re wrapped around his cock. But you’re probably not wet enough for that, and it’s not like Shigaraki is going to do anything to take care of you. Dabi would be surprised if the other man’s ever eaten pussy before in his life.

Besides…you smell good. It’s not even just the feeling of your quirk exciting him. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy is inches away from him, and Dabi is dying to make you cum in his mouth.

A moan curls up from deep in your throat as Dabi caresses the lips of your pussy through your underwear. You don’t bother protesting—at this point, it’s unlikely that any plea you could muster would stop them. Your earlier begging didn’t do much besides spur them on, but you still cry out as softly as you can when an unnaturally warm fingertip slips under the cloth of your panties to dip into your slit.

“Oh? You’re wetter than I expected. Are you enjoying this?”

Your frantic denial falls on deaf ears. Shigaraki rasps out a laugh and bites down on your neck again. He’s supposed to be keeping you still, but he can’t help enjoying the way your almost-naked body feels as you press yourself back into his chest, trying to force some space between yourself and Dabi.

Your squirming is no problem for Dabi, though—you’re so soft and vulnerable and the velvety skin of your inner thigh looks so delicious… He nuzzles against the area of bare skin and latches on to it, sucking until he’s sure you’re going to have a mark in a few minutes. The thought of leaving hickeys on you like a teenager is sickeningly nostalgic. You’re probably going to try to forget this when they’re done, aren’t you? But you won’t be able to, not when you’re covered in love bites and bruises. You’re going to be marked up for weeks.

Fuck, he’s hard.

Too impatient to bother taking off your panties, Dabi just pushes them aside to gain access to your damp cunt. His fingers feel hot—too hot, almost unbearably hot; you feel like you could melt into a puddle and your pussy is certainly slick enough as he pets your clit and slides one finger in, then two… You whimper and shake your head, silently denying what’s happening to you. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but Dabi’s fingers quickly find that rough patch inside of you that makes you want to beg like an animal. You hate it, but it feels good.

“She’s so tight,” Dabi says with something like awe in his voice. You can hear Shigaraki panting behind your back.

“Get on with it,” Shigaraki says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

For a second you just feel Dabi’s humid breath against your dripping cunt before he closes the space between the two of you and his tongue slides onto you, laving over your cunt to come to a rest on your clit. A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before forces its way out of your mouth as Dabi eats you out in earnest, rubbing his tongue against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your head rolls back onto Shigaraki’s shoulder. You feel like crying for a million reasons at once. Maybe you’re already crying—the sounds you’re making are almost like sobs. You want him to stop. You never want him to stop. Your hands twitch as you fight the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your thighs.

“Fuck, oh fuck, no stop please stop, ah…!” The stream of gibberish coming out of your mouth crescendoes into a real sob as you feel your climax coming. No—you can’t—you can’t cum here, in this broken-down bar, on the tongue of a villain, but it doesn’t matter that you can’t, because you’re going to cum anyway.

“Please don’t, please let me go—“ You writhe uncontrollably as the desire to cum sweeps over you, but Dabi just curls one arm around your thigh and pulls his face away so he can push his fingers back in, angling his palm to grind roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm wet softness of his tongue is enough to push you over the edge and you cry out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Dabi’s fingers as he works them in and out of you.

Unable to support yourself, you crumple like paper, and only the two villains you’re sandwiched between keep you upright.

“Fucking finally,” Shigaraki growls, and he pushes you down so your knees scrape painfully into the rubble. Your earlier resistance was cute, but so is your dazed compliance as he pulls your hips up to meet his.

“You’re going first?” Dabi asks incredulously. After he did all that work getting you off? No way.

“You can use her mouth,” Shigaraki tells him. His cock is straining against his pants and he groans as he releases it and rubs it over your panties. He could decay them, but…they’re cute. Pale pink, peach-pink, except for the wet spot over your cunt. Precum is already dribbling out of his cock as he pulls your panties to the side and lines it up with your pussy. Jesus-fucking-christ, you’re wet, sopping and slimy. Doesn’t that mean you’re begging to get filled up? Shigaraki hears himself sigh as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit so it’ll be wet enough to go in.

You’re still out of it, dizzy from your orgasm and the tension of the situation, but you snap back to your senses with the feeling of something hard pushed up to your entrance. “Wait!” you yelp for what feels like the hundredth time. The gravel scattered over the wreckage where you’ve been forced onto your hands and knees digs painfully into your flesh as you pull away from Shigaraki, but he holds fast to your hips with pinkies raised.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi admonishes with a grin, as if he’s reprimanding a dog for not coming when called. He settles himself in front of your front and kneels again. Your hair is mussed but still silky soft and he takes a moment to enjoy the way the strands slip over his skin before he tangles his fingers close to your scalp and yanks your head in his direction, forcing your cheek to chafe against the crotch of his pants. It’s not difficult to tell what the the thick bulge is through the fabric, and you try to flinch away only to be caught again and immobilized.

“You’re going to take care of us,” Dabi tells you. “Like I took care of you. Okay?”

No, it’s not okay, it’s absolutely not okay, and you would say so if you didn’t see Dabi’s expression darken at your obvious denial and feel a wave of acrid heat coming from his hand in your hair. The smell is worse than the feeling, honestly—you’ve had enough run-ins with hair curlers and flat irons to recognize the smell of hair when it’s three seconds away from burning. “Okay! Okay,” you answer, panicked, voice muffled by the fabric of Dabi’s pants.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and the heat fades.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Shigaraki says from behind you.

“Then don’t.”

You whine, too scared to try to get away again or even plead with them to let you go, but it doesn’t matter. Shigaraki’s cock presses into your pussy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him as he slides into you, inch by inch, torturously slow. Is there anything to bite down on? You need to do something, anything to distract from the pain of Shigaraki’s cock stretching you out. He’s big, impossibly big.

Eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip until you can taste copper and scrabble around blindly until your hand finds loose fabric to grip. It’s something of Dabi’s, probably the coat he’s wearing if you remember correctly, but your brain isn’t exactly working right at the moment—

“You were right…shit, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” Shigaraki’s voice is low and labored with the effort of not thrusting into you all at once. “Feels like…she’s trying to push me out…”

Fuck it, he thinks. Would it really be so bad if he did push all the way into you in one stroke? It’s better to just get it over with, isn’t it? Yeah…you’d probably prefer him to do it quickly. And besides, he can’t wait another second to feel you all the way up to the base of his cock.

Your strangled whimper is drowned out by his satisfied groan as he shoves the rest of the way into you in a single sudden thrust. The pain knocks the breath out of you in a gasp, and your eyes fly open as you clutch Dabi’s coat like a lifeline.

“It hurts—!”

“Yeah…yeah, I bet it does,” Shigaraki pants, holding your hips steady as he thrusts in and out of you. The bored nonchalance of earlier is gone, replaced by a feral intensity as his cock carves its way through your pussy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think there’s something affectionate in his voice.

For Shigaraki’s part, he can hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped over his dick. It’s taking every vestige of concentration he has left to make sure he’s holding a single finger on each hand away from your skin. It’s pure bliss. Your body was made to be fucked like this. He wants to live inside your pussy, he wants to do this every day, every minute. Fucking you raw is the best he’s felt in months…years. And it doesn’t hurt that your quirk is still working on him, still sending pleasurable shocks of energy that make him feel simultaneously like he could keep you pinned down for hours and like he could cum any second.

“Oh, she’s crying,” Dabi says, tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. You flinch and try to jerk your head away, but his hand is still holding you by your hair and he’s so much stronger than you are. They both are, even without using their quirks. “Look at me.”

You comply, more by reflex than any real desire to obey. It’s pretty striking to Dabi how cute you look as Shigaraki pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto Dabi’s coat like your life depends on it. It’s almost like you’re pulling him closer. Adorable.

“She can…take it,” Shigaraki responds breathily between thrusts. “Such a good whore, taking my big cock in her tight little pussy…”

The backhanded compliment jars you and you feel hot tears spill over your cheeks. “I’m—not—a—whore,” you manage to say, each word punctuated with Shigaraki’s skin slapping against yours.

“Really?” Shigaraki’s pace slows and he leans closer to you so he can reach an arm around and swirl two fingers against your clit. You mewl like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation and he laughs rudely. “Feels so good…can’t believe the heroes don’t want to fuck you like this all the time…”

You shake your head desperately and bury your face in Dabi’s chest, barely noticing him stroking your hair and then reaching down to unzip his pants.

“No, no, I bet that’s what you do as a sidekick, right?” Shigaraki’s thrusts are back to frenzied jerks, and he rubs over your clit just as roughly. “Spread your legs for your hero…you’d make a great personal cocksleeve. Or maybe they rotate you around so every pro hero gets a turn…?”

“No, I don’t! No! Ah— ahnnn…” The denials pierce the air uselessly as the villain’s cock fills you up again and again. You’re not a whore, you’re not…even if it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing pressure of Shigaraki teasing your clit in time with his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. It still hurts—he’s so big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had sex with before, but there’s no way you’re going to admit to yourself that it’s starting to feel good.

“…Is my cock better than All Might’s?” Shigaraki’s words are cut off by his own grunt of pleasure as your cunt twitches around him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi cuts in. “I’m sick of hearing a guy’s voice moaning. I’m going to get soft.”

Past the point of comprehending the situation, you look up at him gratefully, only to reel back in shock as Dabi frees his own cock from his pants and it brushes against your cheek. Trying to pull away from him is more instinct than rational thought, but he holds you just as easily as before and forces two fingers into your mouth. You tense, ready to bite down, (and hopefully take a few knuckles off) but he sees it coming and suddenly your mouth is horribly burning hot.

“You’re going to suck my cock now,” says Dabi conversationally, extinguishing the flame almost as soon as he started it. It’s not so bad—probably more like a coffee burn than anything else—but you’re coughing and spitting anyway. “Say yes.”

“…Yes,” you whisper, voice barely intelligible.

“Good little sidekick. And you’re going to be very careful. You’re not going to use teeth.”

You nod, unable to mount a defense with Shigaraki mercilessly fucking you from behind.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeal as Shigaraki finds a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“Good.” Dabi drags your head down to hover over his cock and massages your jaw until it falls open. “Suck.”

One of his hands falls to your shoulder to try to stabilize you, but you can’t help feeling the threat in the motion. You quickly duck down and attempt to ignore the heady smell of sweat and precum as you trace your tongue up the underside of his dick. He’s big too, maybe thicker than Shigaraki, and you hate yourself for feeling lucky that it’s not this cock inside your pussy right now.

The stunt Dabi pulled burning your mouth made you salivate, and you let drool coat your tongue as you lick around the head. But it’s not working—you rock forward every time Shigaraki stuffs his dick back in your aching pussy, and Dabi’s cock smears over your mouth haphazardly.

“I said suck. Not lick.” Suddenly (although you don’t know why you keep expecting some kind of warning before these villains find a new way to violate you), Dabi grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock into your mouth. Your throat constricts involuntarily as the thick head triggers your gag reflex, and all three of you shiver in unison.

“Do…do that again,” Shigaraki says, voice strained. “She tightens up…when you do that.”

Dabi smirks and thrusts into you again, relishing the warm, humid cavern of your throat around his cock along with the pure swell of energy from your quirk enhancing his. His rhythm matches Shigaraki’s and his cock hits the back of your throat with every rapid pump, making you gag and clench like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. What a perfect little slut… He can see from Shigaraki’s sloppy movements that you’re squeezing around his cock every time too.

The feeling of having one villain cock buried in your pussy while another ravages your throat is unthinkable, even more so with Shigaraki’s fingers on your clit coaxing out an earth-shaking orgasm. But you’d almost be able to forget what’s happening—god knows you’re delirious with sensation, barely able to keep track of who’s doing what to you—if not for the sound. The wet slap of Shigaraki’s hips against your ass, the horrible squelching from your (dripping wet, even if you don’t want to admit it) pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you, your choked moans and gagging noises, and above it all, the unrestrained voices of the villains fucking into you.

You feel like a fuck toy, a sex doll, used without mercy by the two most evil people you can think of…and you’re about to cum.

Your voice is getting louder by the second, and the pulsing of your cunt around Shigaraki’s cock is telling him exactly how close you are. He curls his body over yours to get a better angle to rub your clit, enjoying your high-pitched whine in response. “Yeah…that’s right…good girl. Cum on my cock…like a good little sidekick.”

You keen and goosebumps rise on your skin as Shigaraki licks at the sheen of sweat on your back. He feels your climax almost as soon as you do… If your scream wasn’t stifled by Dabi’s dick in your mouth, everyone within a one-mile radius would know you were getting fucked silly, yeah? The walls of your pussy clamp down on Shigaraki’s cock, your body begging for his cum, and he grips your ass to make sure you can’t get away as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you.

Fuck… Shigaraki could die right now and be happy. He keeps stroking your clit, knowing it’s cruel, knowing you’ll be overstimulated and sensitive and that it’ll hurt to keep touching you like this after you already came, and not caring because every time the tips of his fingers push that little magic button, you shiver and squeeze him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

Shigaraki gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into your body, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then finally pulls out. The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene. So is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulls it away. He loves it.

Knowing that Shigaraki came—inside you, no less, the inconsiderate bastard—Dabi grips the back of your head and tugs you down to deepthroat him. Your walls twitch involuntarily and Dabi groans, letting himself shoot his load down your throat. “Yes…yeah…yeah…just like that. Swallow.”

You don’t swallow. You don’t do anything but gag on his cum and gasp as he thrusts into you. Dabi pulls you off of him, annoyed and ready to threaten you into submission again…until your head lolls to the side and he can see that your eyes are closed.

“Shit, she passed out.”

“…What? Are you kidding?”

Dabi slaps your face lightly. You wince in your sleep but don’t wake up. “Nope. Must’ve been when she came the second time.”

“Is she…” Shigaraki trails off, not sure how to end the question. ‘Okay’ isn’t exactly right.

“She’s breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of them wait for a moment, but you don’t move. When he catches his breath, Shigaraki wipes off his dick and pulls up his pants. Dabi does the same. Without them holding you, you flop down into the fetal position on the broken concrete. “What now?” Shigaraki asks.

Dabi wipes the sweat from his forehead. “You tell me, leader. I’m surprised Kurogiri hasn’t opened another warp gate to get you back. Guessing you don’t have your phone either?”

“…We can go to Giran’s place to meet up. They’re probably waiting for us there,” Shigaraki says, scratching at his neck.

“Do you have cab fare?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. You?”

“Not enough for a cab. We’ll have to take the train. You can owe me.”

Shigaraki looks down at you. You make a pitiful scene, naked except for your boots, sports bra, and cum-soaked panties. Your neck is bruised red and purple, and you’re shaking, shivering in the cool air now that the sun has sunk further toward the horizon and you’re not being touched. “Are we going to leave her here?”

“What, you want to bring her on the train with us? You don’t think that’s gonna look suspicious?”

“Well…” Their eyes meet and Shigaraki knows Dabi’s thinking the same thing he is. You have a lot of potential as an asset. They haven’t even had the chance to see how your quirk boosting works in combat, but Shigaraki almost wants to pick a fight just to give it a try.

And fighting power aside, Shigaraki isn’t a fan of the possibility that he’ll never get to fuck you again.

“Yeah, I know. But she’s a pro hero’s sidekick. She can’t be too hard to find.” Dabi shrugs off his coat and crouches next to you. You’re limp enough that he has no trouble lifting you into his lap and guiding your arms through the sleeves of his coat. Once you’re wrapped in the black fabric, he does up the buttons, combs through your hair with his fingers, wipes the mixed cum and spittle off your chin, and admires his handiwork. Sure, anyone looking closely at you will know at least a little about what happened—you’re still sweating in the cold, you have that undeniable ‘just got fucked’ look all over you, and the smell of sex is overpowering. But at least you won’t have to walk back to the rescue tent in your filthy underwear.

In your sleep, you nuzzle into Dabi’s chest, reaching blindly toward the source of warmth. He grins and strokes the back of your neck, soothing warm fingers over the bruised skin there and enjoying his last opportunity to touch you and feel your quirk working…for now, at least. “You know, I wonder why villains don’t get sidekicks. Seems a little unfair, right?”

Shigaraki’s sneer matches Dabi’s as he bends down to run his fingernails over your cheek, almost hard enough to hurt. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[sepia-mahogany]

Prompt: hearing about xuanwus defeat, madam jin and jin zixuan come to lotus pier and overhear madam yu saying wei wuxian should have let the 'sect heirs die', lwj who's recovering also overhears, the 3 get first hand experience of jiang household situation and decide fk this and take wwx out of there, its a prompt from vrishchikawrites blog (a wonderful write!) So maybe ask permission?

From the prompt on @vrishchikawrites

Jin Zixuan could not forget the young man, the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, who, despite his previous (petty) grievances with, had stepped up when everyone else had been frozen on the spot, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his blood stained image out of his mind. Which had led to this discussion.

“What? No! I forbid it.” his father responded when he asked for sending reinforcements to Jiang Sect, while he understood with Cloud Recesses burnt down, and Nie under attack, either Yunmeng Jiang or Lanling Jin were next on the table, and despite having well equipped men, with the best of weapons, his father refused to extend help. 

Refused to stand against those who sought to harm his son, ‘in situations like these, know when to step back’ he had said, and Jin Zixuan could feel shame creeping up under his skin, outnumbered and clearly at losing stakes, he hadn’t hesitated to save him, and what would that make him if he forgot the debt so clearly owed? To live the lavish life of a coward..! He could see his mother fuming from where she stood, and closed his eyes to suppress his bitter thoughts, he wanted to do something, anything to help.

And suddenly, anger melted from her face and that smile crept up her face and he felt a chill down his spine, a sense of foreboding overcame him, he could see his father tense as well. “Of course, the Jin Sect sides with them.” she spoke, venom dripping off her every word. “Nothing wrong if the Sect Leader’s wife wants the marriage renewed?” a pit formed in his stomach, he did not want to marry a woman he barely knew, but using this opportunity, they could, in a sense create a bond, stronger than of just two sworn sisters.

However, “Madam Jin meets up with her sworn sister, Madam of Jiang Sect, just as Qishan Wen begins its attacks?” the war has been declared, how would it seem if the two sect Madams, and the Sect heirs are meeting, with or without the Sect Leader? “The risks are completely unneeded, what do we gain from this?” his mother glared at his father, who pointedly ignored her, Jin Zixuan exhaled, thinking things over.

As much as he disliked the engagement, he knew she would not bring it up, unless the situation, as dire as it was, needed it, this bond could provide future aid to one another should the need arise, so Jin Zixuan kept his disagreements to himself, because he knew she wouldn’t force him, not with the concerns of a  cold loveless marriage like his parents, he knew she was using it as a cover to aid her sworn sister.

An opportunity, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then remembered how the Second Jade, Lan Wangji had stood shoulder to shoulder with him,  and Wei Wuxian, Head Disciple, had stepped up to save them. 

Jin Zixuan exhaled, and made a decision, muttering out a half-hearted excuse, he left them on their own, and later into the night, he approached his mother.

--------

The boat landed steadily, unnoticed in the middle of the night, his mother had won the final say in the matter, of course with the reluctant agreement of remaining disguised as just another trade ship, the serene view would have been calming, had his nerves not have been high strung from adrenaline, small sacrifices, he could of course find a way to break off the engagement in a future of more peaceful times.

Jin Zixuan climbed out the boat first, followed calmly by his mother, the disguises were near perfect, for the disciples around the brightly lit place to look curious, but not alarmed. One, he recognised seeing a few times at Cloud Recesses, came near them with a nervous smile. “We offer you our sincerest apologies but...we’d appreciate it if travellers could avoid an audience with the Sect Leader?” 

The disguises were perfect then, for they had been mistaken as travellers that would go to and fro from Yunmeng Jiang Sect, his mother sniffed and looked at the disciple sternly “We are not here for the Sect Leader, but the Violet Spider, we have an important message for them.” Jin Zixuan had noticed before but now it had become more apparent as the disciples shifted around, something was off, it dampened his enthusiasm and the rush he had felt earlier, instead concern filled him, had something happened to Wei Wuxian?

His mother held out a token, the disciple’s eyes widened and he bowed in respect, “I assume this would be enough?” Madam Jin said curtly, and the disciple nodded, though tensely. “This one will escort you to the guest chambers” 

The curious gazes had not been moved, as they moved inside, step by step, down the corridor they went, as the muffled voices became more distinguishable, all 3 of them froze when they heard, unmistakably the Jiang Sect Heir’s voice. “-You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing. If in the beginning you hadn’t….” 

Jin Zixuan felt a cold pit forming in his stomach, surely he must be mistaken, but seeing the expression twisting  on his mothers face, he could assume he was not, in fact, misunderstanding what Jiang Wanyin was implying. 

The disciple bowed quickly, slightly panicked “If you’d follow me-” Madam Jin pointed at him and he immediately shut up, head bowed, just as the Jiang Sect Leader reprimanded “Jiang Cheng.” Silence followed. “Do you know in which ways what you just have said is not appropriate?” was followed by a glum “Yes.”

Even if slightly, Jin Zixuan relaxed, his mother’s expression lightening into a frown, ‘at least someone is self-aware’ Madam Jin thought. “He’s just angry and speaking without care” another voice added, Jin Zixuan perked up, Wei Wuxian! So he was alright, he felt relieved. Madam Jin continued to frown, Wei Wuxian was clearly trying to lessen the pressure off of the Jiang heir. 

Another harsh voice cut through them all “Yes, he doesn’t understand but what does it matter, as long as Wei Ying understands!?” rang out her voice, Madam Jin’s lips pursed into a line, of what her son had just said, that was what she was focusing on?

 “‘To attempt at the impossible’ is exactly how he is, isn’t it? Fooling around even though he knew it’d bring trouble to his sect!?” Jin Zixuan sneaked a look at his mother to see her eyes cold, her fist clenched tightly, he was aware they shouldn’t be hearing this, but this? It wasn’t what they expected at all, he was frozen in place, what in the world was he hearing?

Madam Jin’s thoughts matched her appearance, for once she felt less than charitable towards Yu Ziyuan, and more and more like a fool, here she was, risking her and her son’s safety, her sects safety, for a woman who couldn't care less about her son’s life, but was also wilfully blinding herself to the war right on the horizon, ‘No’ she thought to herself, ‘it was I who was truly blind’

And it was the boy she heard being called ‘Fengmian’s bastard’ or ‘son of a servant’ who had saved her son's life instead, she bit back the bitter chuckle that threatened to escape her, truly, what a fool she was, to be caught in the violet spiders web.

She looked at her son, whose face clouded over the more he heard, she grabbed his arm tightly, if nothing else then to prevent him from barging inside, with Jiang Fengmian’s favor, she was sure that they didn’t need to interfere, until, “My lady, what are you doing here?” she held back her disbelief, her son on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

This was what he was focusing on? Not the insults to his bas- to his ward? To his sect’s entire foundation? It would seem she was truly mistaken, in her and Yu Ziyuan sharing their miseries, entirely wrong about her character, and who was still throwing around callous words for the sake of it, for what else? If not her own cruelty?

"What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I'm also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing there, which one is your son?" Disbelief and disgust couldn’t even begin to describe what Madam Jin was feeling, the Sect Leader’s response,  however, “I do remember.” Enhanced those to the heights she didn't even know she was capable of feeling.

And so stood the enraged Madam of Jin Sect, the horrified Jin heir and one ashamed disciple whose head could bow no lower, but that was nothing compared to what was said next “You do remember, but there's no use if you simply remember. Wei Ying, he really can't take it unless he stirs up some trouble, can he? If I had known, I would've made him stay in Lotus Pier properly and not go outside. Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and Lanling Jin Sect? Even if he did, it'd mean that they ran out of luck. Since when was it your turn to play the hero?"

Blood roared in Madam Jin’s ears, her nails digging into her palm, she wanted to bite Yu Ziyuan’s head off there and then. ‘Of all the idiotic, foolish, horrid, things she could utter-’ in her cursing, she only realised she had put too much force in her rage filled haze when her son hissed in pain, she immediately let go of his arm, and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking calming breaths.

She was afraid she would do something terrible and irrevocable if she stayed there any longer, listening to a pathetic mockery of- she exhaled and pushed Jin Zixuan towards the open doors. “B-but mother-” he looked back but she gave him that look and he quietened “Later a-Xuan.” while moving outwards, the disciple trailing behind them, they could easily catch some of the words the woman threw at Wei Wuxian.

Madam Jin gritted her teeth in anger, and left without looking back, once she and her son were seated in the boat. “A-Xuan” she began, lightly ruffling his hair “Your marriage is up to you to decide, I will have no say in the matter from here onwards” Her son was not going to be married into that cursed Sect no matter what if she could help it, she moved forward to pull him into a hug, “Mother was wrong.”

 “But mother what about..?” She heard him say, she pulled back and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other caressing his cheek, her son, who by the Jiang’s standards, should’ve been killed, and her blood boiled in her veins. “We came here to make a bond and talk if it were possible, since that wasn’t possible, it can be done some other day.” She lightly patted him, and seeing his thoughts drift off, thought to herself darkly ‘and if the Jiangs are attacked, well, they ran out of luck then.’

Her son hesitantly nodded, “Wei Wuxian...I owe him, for saving me then, if not for him.....” She sniffed, as if indicating what was obvious “Of course,” When the news spread later that Lotus Pier was attacked, with Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian on the run, she hoped for Wei Wuxian’s survival, more so than the Jiang Sect Heir.

And if, perhaps, after a few years her son proposed sworn brotherhood with that Wei Wuxian, well, it wasn’t without her approval.

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

authors notes i guess?

Okay so writing Madam Yu’s lines legit left me disgusted like wtf was she even saying?? Also like I tried to write Madam Jin similar but a bit less than Madam Yu (ya know madam jin never whipped kids with her spiritual weapons, if she had any, not to our knowledge at least...right?) but ended up venturing straight into slightly dark madam jin heh, also like no engagement, no jin-wei tense relationship, (there’ll be 1-2 parts more probably) also wwx woke up earlier in this one, this’ll serve as catalyst for later years. 

[jeannereames]

Hi, love your blog and your books, they have been good for my knowledge, they had made clear some points that were cover by the mist of ignorance, I mean, when I was at school my teachers didn't know about Alexander so when we saw him in history class there were a lot of incoherences (sorry for my poor grammar, I'm still learning english).

Hephaestion is an interesting character, we don't know much about him but I have always wonder how he was as a husband, in my research it seems that he wasn't so interest in women like others were. I have wonder if that make him a careless or a typical (in the context of the history) husband? Did he marry because Alexander say so or because he wants to ensure his place? Does he felt pity for the girl or he didn't care about her at all? Was a better husband than Alexander?

And talking about Drypetis, we know about the famous beauty of her mother and of Roxanne. But how do you think that beauty was? Certainly, not like my modern view about attractiveness of a female, so I wonder yours.

Sorry for the long post! 🙃

We know nothing about his interest (or lack of it) in women. He did marry in Susa in 324 because Alexander told him to…along with 90 other officers. That doesn’t mean he was against the idea—may have been one of the few fully in favor of it for the politics.

While fictionally I’ll make hay over his lack of recorded lovers (of either gender), from an academic point of view…it’s meaningless.

This is probably a good time to review “arguments from silence,” and why they’re so tricky.

An ARGUMENT FROM SILENCE suggests a lack of evidence is significant. BUT this only works if one can demonstrate that such evidence ought to be there…and isn’t.

That’s hard to do for the ancient world as “a lack of evidence” describes our cursed lot. My modern historian colleagues are regularly astonished by how little we have, and what we can spin out from that little.

I bring this up is because arguments from silence are too common in pop history, which too often does them badly due to a lack of understanding regarding 1) what evidence IS available, 2) what should be available, and 3) what’s absolutely unsurprising not to find.

Sometimes students will ask me, “But didn’t they write stuff like that down?” (‘That’ varying.) The answer is often, “No.” Or more colorfully, “They didn’t give a shit.” Even in the Roman Empire, they lacked bureaucratic record-keeping as we understand it. In Greece, centuries earlier, a few city-states kept some records, but most didn’t, especially prior to the mid-4thCentury BCE. It’s connected to the “epigraphic habit”: the desire to record information (in public) for posterity, and the idea that record-keeping might be a good general idea often merge.

Even so, WHAT they thought worthy of recording isn’t always what we’d like to know. This, in turn, pertains to how they wrote historical texts: what they chose to report (or not).

So, with that background…

The problem with knowing Hephaistion’s sexual interest (or lack of it) in women is how and why our sources relate such information.

In short: they mostly don’t.

This owes to their LASER focus on Alexander. Even then, what each source tells about him varies. I think we can probably be sure we know all Alexander’s wives, although Barsine’s status is not completely clear (imo). I assume she was at least a palakē, which is a formal mistress: less than a wife, but more than a hetaira. Yet given Macedonian marriage practices, perhaps she was a wife in Macedonian eyes? The Greeks regularly “demoted” Macedonian royal wives to mistresses, so I don’t trust our sources on this score.

Whatever the case, we don’t know all Alexander’s female (or male) sexual liaisons outside his wives because the sources mostly don’t care. When they do care (ala Plutarch and Curtius), it’s for some—often Romanized—moral point. Which is a looong-ass way from anything the Macedonians cared about.

And if we don’t even know his, how can we assume we know his officers’? Hell-to-the-no!

We hear about these women only if they matter to the larger (Alexander-driven) narrative. So we know the name of Philotas’s mistress, Antigonē, because she was hired by Krateros to bring pillow talk back to Alexander. We know Harpalus’s mistresses because he spent oodles of treasury funds on them, and got in trouble for it (twice). We recognize the name Laïs because she later became the long-time mistress (palakē) of Ptolemy I, mother of some of his important offspring in the Successor wars.

Ergo, not knowing the names of Hephaistion’s mistresses—or whether he had any—is not significant. Outside of special circumstance, we wouldn’t expect to.

We DO know the name of his wife from the mass-marriages at Susa in the spring of 324 because she was a princess, sister of Alexander’s wife, and her selection for him had distinct political significance. Yet that doesn’t mean he didn’t have a wife already, back in Macedon. Others of Alexander’s officers did–one reason many promptly divorced their Persian brides after Alexander’s death. I note the possibility largely as it illustrates the level of what we don’t know.

My educated hunch is that Hephaistion’s marriage to Drypetis was his first marriage. And I don’t believe he had any children (even by-blows), or we’d have heard about them as a result of Alexander’s extravagant grief. Yet this is far from saying he had no mistresses—or boyfriends, for that matter.

Regarding Drypetis and his relationship with her…it’s a complete blank. We just don’t know how Hephaistion treated her, what she thought of him, or what he thought of her. They weren’t married long enough. The weddings were in early spring, after ATG got back to Susa following the Gedrosian march/rest in Karmania. He spent a while sorting business in Susa before he went on to Opis (and subsequent unrest/mutiny there). I suspect Hephaistion and Drypetis were married no more than 6-7 months. He died in early/mid-October. She wasn’t pregnant by his death, but given how busy that period was, it could be a function of his duties and lack of time.

As for the beauty of Persian royal/elite women, it seems to have been something remarked upon by more than just Alexander historians. We lack images of Achaemenid Persians, alas, but below is a lapis lazuli bust of among the most famous: Atossa, daughter of Cyrus, wife of Darius, and mother of Xerxes (lived second half of the 6th century BCE). Note the large eyes, high eyebrows (apparently plucked), and small mouth. Given the tendency to idealizing in Ancient Near Eastern art, this suggests what would have been considered high beauty.

Beneath her is a Roman copy of Praxiteles’s original Aphrodite of Knidos—considered the ideal of Greek female beauty in the early-mid 4th century BCE (based on the incomparable Phryne, Praxiteles’s mistress).

Both have an oval face with full cheeks, and we can see Aphrodite’s nicely plump. That meant something! She had enough to eat = wealth. The modern starved-skinny model with long face, strong jaw, and stark cheekbones…that’s attractive now partly owing to what photographs well: prominent features and thinness (because the camera adds pounds). Persians and Greeks preferred rounder features, heart-shaped faces, small bow mouths, soft jaws, and fullness in the body (plump, not overweight). About the only hold-over would be large eyes.

What I haven’t really noted is coloring…other than a preference for pale skin as that signified one had slaves (= rich) and didn’t have to work in the fields outside. Hair color and eye color just wasn’t that big of a deal. Sometimes it comes to the fore: gray-eyed Athena. (Although the word is generic for blue/gray/greenish.) Similar for Apollo and Dionysos, in the Homeric hymns. Dionysos had black hair there (as did Apollo). Both “blond-up” only in the Classical era. And Hera was noted for her extraordinarily beautiful “cow-eyes.” E.g., large and dark-dark brown.

BUT, because I love to support the Gingers of the World…RED-blond hair was considered the most desired in Greece. Aphrodite was a strawberry blonde (at least sometimes), as was Helen…when anybody bothered to note it. And (quite probably) Alexander.

[ramzawrites]

Ghost!Reader and Ghostbur a match made in heaven

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Ghostbur/Wilbur, Quackity, Philza, Ranboo, (mentioned) Fundy, (mentioned) Niki, (mentioned) Tubbo

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing

Series: No, a small drabble to get the blog and my brain juices going, might make a sequel that leans more into the X Ghostbur territory depending if people want that.

Summary: Y/N wakes up and gets confronted by Quackity that they are apparently dead and forgot everything. Quackity takes them on a small tour through L’manberg to show them to Ghostbur though for what reason he isn’t absolutely sure himself seeing how Y/N died by the hands of Wilbur.

Words count: 1930

Y/N opened their eyes immediately noticing the warm sun that was laying a blanket of warmth on their whole body. Birds were happily chirping as the wind was softly brushing through the trees, making for a nice background noise.

They then noticed that they were in fact laying outside with their arms and legs outstretched but for some reason they didn’t feel inclined in moving. It felt comfortable and safe.

“Y/N?” someone called out from behind.

They felt a bit disgruntled for having to move but when they looked back towards where the the shout came from, they saw a man with a beanie and small yellow wings approaching them.

With a soft smile they waved towards that person “Yes, I believe that is my name!”

Once the person got closer they noticed how shocked he looked. His mouth was wide open, as well as his eyes.

Huffing Y/N finally stood up and walked slowly towards this shocked man “Hello? You did call out for me is that right? Y/N is my name I think.”

He in return slowly shook his head, slowly opening up and closing his mouth as if he was searching for the right words but they just wouldn’t appear. To make him feel more comfortable Y/N tried to put on their nicest smile in order to encourage him. Quite the weird man isn’t he?

“Yeah that is your name but are you like Ghostbur?” he suddenly blurted out which resulted in him smacking his hands against his mouth as if he just suddenly said something incredibly rude or embarrassing.

Y/N frowned and gave his question a good thought before answering “I’m sorry but I don’t think I know what you mean, sir.” Ghostbur? Who is that? Like him? In what way?

“Sir? Y/N, don’t you know who I am?”

Embarrassed Y/N did notice that this man clearly knew their name but when they looked at him nothing came to their mind “Oh, I’m so sorry! I suppose that must have slipped my mind! This is embarrassing.”

The man nodded to himself as if he finally realized what was happening “I’m, uh, Quackity. You used to help me a lot out back when I was Vice President.”

“Oh, really? That is weird that I can’t re-“

But Quackity interrupted them “Okay, listen I think I know what is going on but I need to check something first. What is the last thing you remember before you met me here.”

Y/N tapped their lips with their fingers as they begun thinking “Hmm, well I remember waking up under the sun here but before that. I remember warmth, no, heat. Something was hot.” Now a frown was beginning to form on their face “A scream? From who? Me? Ugh, I’m sorry Quackity I’m beginning to have a headache I just cannot remember more.”

Quackity looked hurt and defeated as he listened, nervously kneading his hands “Hey, Y/N you do realize you are dead, right? Like, you are a ghost right now.”

They blinked for a second and looked down their body which did look a bit transparent “Ah, I guess you are right! I suppose I am dead!”

“Do you know how you died?”

“What is this? An interrogation?” Y/N laughed but chose to answer the question nonetheless “All I remember is a loud bang, heat and then I was gone. That’s it.”

Quackity nodded “Come with me.”

And Y/N answered cheerfully “Okay!” as they happily floated next to him.

Quackity then led Y/N into a really pretty city. He explained to them this little nation was called L’Manberg and was currently in the middle of being rebuilt. On the way he apparently reintroduced them to a number of characters like Tubbo, Fundy, Niki and introduced them to Ranboo which was a funny little thing.

As Ranboo approached Quackity begun explaining “Ah, he is new you wouldn’t have known him but his name is-“

But Y/N was already floating over to the Hybrid, stretching their hand out “Hello! My name is Y/N I do not remember you so I’m sorry! Can you tell me your name again?”

The teenager stared at them with an unsure expression but still shook their hand “Oh! We met before? I’m sorry Y/N I can’t seem to remember you as well but my name is Ranboo.”

Quackity then had to explain to the both of them that they have actually never met before. He then urged Y/N to continue walking since he had a specific person in mind they should talk to. He was thinking of Ghostbur.

Ghostbur doesn’t remember either but he and Y/N used to be best friends but also the reason for their death. When he pressed the button Y/N was in the middle of the explosion consequently loosing their last life. Shortly after, Wilbur himself died.

After some walking and searching Quackity grew annoyed so he just decided to yell out his name “Ghostbur! Where the fuck are you?”

“You called Quackity?” A soft voiced asked.

When Y/N looked they saw a pale man float from behind the building towards them. He wore a yellow sweatshirt and a red beanie on his fluffy brown hair. A single grey strand was running along the front of his hair.

They wanted to great this new man, which they presumed was Ghostbur but their body refused to act so they let Quackity speak first.

“Good, you are here. Ghostbur you know this person?”

Ghostbur was putting his hand against his chin as he floated towards Y/N. Floating around them looking at them from every angle. As he was upside down staring at them he finally spoke up again “I feel like we have been friends before. Way back. I’m sorry new ghost but I have a horrible memory.”

“Oh, I cannot remember you at all! So I’m sorry! I seem to not be able to remember anything! My name is Y/N!”

“Y/N! That’s it! You are a ghost as well! I guess we can continue being friends as ghosts! Isn’t that fun!”

The two ghosts begun happily chatting about what they remember from their death as Quackity just stared at them. He was hoping this could either awaken any memories from Y/N or Ghostbur. He wasn’t really sure what he would accomplish by doing this or what good it would do but he had to try.

He was disappointed but he didn’t know why.

“I’m gonna let you guys be, okay?” but the two weren’t really listening anymore. They were now comparing their transparency.

From that day on it was a rare thing if you didn’t see the two together. Most people first reaction was that of shock. Sure, they started out as friends but over time as Wilbur grew more desperate slowly loosing himself, Y/N made sure to stay away from him.

They tried their best to get him back off that edge but never succeeded. When the war happened they were fighting on Wilbur’s side but whenever he tried to talk to them they would just walk away.

Then they died. By a single button press from Wilbur.

While most assumed that Wilbur didn’t realize this, Philza knew. When he protected Wilbur from the blast Wilbur was squirming around trying to get a look as L’Manberg went up only for him to grow limp and whispering a shocked “Y/N”. At that point Philza was confused why he did that but after he learned of Y/N and that they apparently died in the blast, he knew.

So when he saw Ghostbur and Y/N happily interacting with each other he weirdly enough felt happy but also felt a pang of pain in his heart. Both deaths were unfair and seeing them interact like this now felt wrong to him but both seemed so happy.

The two, Ghostbur and Y/N, both lived in the sewers together. Enjoying their time as ghosts and handing out a substance called “Blue” towards everyone.

While Ghostbur still remembered some happy parts of his life Y/N barely remembered anything but small parts from their death. When prompted to try to remember more they would always get a huge headache that can get to the point that seemingly destabilizes their ghostly body, so the others didn’t try to force them again.

Philza tried to get Ghostbur to tell him more abt Y/N and what he remembers about them but he would always just answer “They were and are my best friend. I love them dearly. We hung out all the time it is really nice that we can hang out after dying as well.”

There was only one time their old self came through a bit. It was right after Tubbo exiled Tommy. Ghostbur was trying to talk to Y/N and make them follow him and Tommy. Y/N would say that the others in L’Manberg needed them to cheer all of them up so they couldn’t follow now but later they would.

Ghostbur wouldn’t take that as an answer since the two did everything together.

Y/N then got angry, so angry the other’s were figurately transported back into the time where both were still alive yelling at each other as they watched.

“No! I will not follow, Wilbur! You always do this! You assume I will just follow you but not this time! This time you are going down a route I cannot follow you!”

Everyone was surprised to hear that. For Tubbo and Fundy who stood close by recognized this speech. This was one to one what the alive Y/N once yelled at Wilbur.

Ghostbur was furrowing his eyebrows “I’m not Alivebur, I’m Ghostbur.”

Y/N looked confused themselves as they held their head in pain “I- I know that. I’m sorry Ghostbur. I have no idea where that came from. I- uh, please go after Tommy. I will come visit later and maybe stay but right now I need to be here.”

Ghostbur nodded and floated off.

Fundy wanted to run over to Y/N asking them if they remembered anything more but they were basically running off to the sewers saying that they needed to be alone.

They don’t know what came over them. Suddenly there was this hot anger that begun to form at the pit of their stomach only to bubble over which lead to their outburst. As they were yelling they swore they were standing inside a cave. Wilbur wasn’t transparent and wearing an old destroyed coat. One of his eyes hidden behind his fluffy hair that has grown longer. The grey streak gone.

They themself felt stronger but sad. Angry. Disappointed. Heartbroken.

Fundy and Tubbo were standing by. Both looked roughed up and worried. Tubbo had bandages hidden beneath his chin. One of his eyes was covered by bandages as well and Y/N remembered feeling so much anger when they saw Tubbo. Not against Tubbo but to whoever did this to him.

As they wanted to take a closer look at more around them, they suddenly noticed that they were standing outside in L’Manberg with an obsidian wall next to them. Ghostbur in front of them, looking hurt. Tubbo and Fundy looking pale as the others who were also listening looked more shocked and confused.

They huddled down in the sewers in the room with the nice warm fire Ghostbur started. Bookshelves full with books that Ghostbur and Y/N found. A couple of books they wrote together where also found between them.

Y/N hugged themselves as a thought crossed their mind “Did Ghostbur take >How to Sex 2< with him? I’m sure Tommy misses it.”

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.09

11/12/2020

Stirrings

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,297

Warnings: language, very light smut, sexual situations, weddings, marriage, pregnancy

A/N: So this is it. This is the one. I hope y’all like it. This is where plot rears its head. Or begins to anyway. I’ll leave y’all to enjoy it. If you do happen to like it and reblog it, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT REPOST my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome and appreciated!

Dinner with the Warriors Three is eventful.

Several plates have already been knocked to the ground. Goblets and large mugs of mead and ale drop to slosh across the floor in the ruckus.

With a small yeep you duck just in time as a large sturdy turkey leg dripping with honey glaze and butter flies towards you and then hits the wall behind you.

“Hey!” Thor disapproves at Fandral and Hilde, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

He curls his fingers at you, calling you to him and you rise from your chair. You gather your skirts and scurry towards him in obedience. He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you to sit in his lap, turning slightly sideways so that he can shift to protect you with his body if he needs to.

“Watch where you’re throwing things!” He chastises but is ignored.

Volstagg had also cried out when Thor had, and their voices all mix together.

“Hey!” He rises from his seat so abruptly that it falls back and clatters noisily onto the floor. “Stop wasting the best parts!”

From the spot beside you where the turkey leg had clearly been aimed at but missed, Loki wipes at the juices that sprinkled his face as it flew by.

Heimdall chuckles lightly, his deep timber made to rival Thor’s you feel. Hilde also laughs, reaching out quickly to take Fandral’s plate from him before he can grab another piece of food.

“If you couldn’t take the comeback, why did you mouth off?” Loki asks Fandral, other than his wiping, he seems unphased.

“It was a simple question, Loki.” Fandral counters.

“No, it was a jab.” Sif is actually smiling, and you’ve taken to staring at her every few seconds.

She’s not paying attention to you in the moment, so you sitting on Thor’s lap is not her focus. It gives you lots of time to just admire her beauty. She’s so freaking pretty!

She’s also very much a part of this group. You can see where she fits now and she’s indispensable to these lovely Asgardians.

“All I did was ask him if he has a girl!”

“That’s assuming a woman is what he wants.” Hogun rationalizes, reaching to grab the large roll on his plate.

It’s not a normal roll. It’s made differently than what you know. It tastes amazing, but it has flavors that you’ve never had on Earth before.

“Ooh, that’s a good point.” Hilde snaps her fingers, pointing at Hogun before leaning against the table, arms folded and pushing her empty plate away. “So, what is it, Loki? Male? Female? Non-gendered?”

Loki looks highly aware of the fact that everyone seems to be watching him now. Even you find yourself looking at him, waiting to learn more about your brother-in-law to be.

He finishes wiping his face, dropping his napkin on the table before he leans back, placing his hands on his thighs. He meets Hilde’s gaze and gives her a narrowed eye grimace as he answers, “I don’t have a preference.”

The table seems to deflate, all of them disappointed for some reason.

“Well, that’s gonna make it harder to find you someone.” Volstagg acknowledges.

“It means we’ll have a wider pool to choose from.” Heimdall reasons.

“Loki would need to learn to put others before himself before he can even think about being with someone.” Sif contributes, bringing down the pleasant atmosphere a little.

You can feel Thor tense underneath you, your hands hurrying to give his wide shoulders a squeeze where you’ve got hold of them as he looks to his left at his lifelong friend.

“Sif…” He pleads.

Suddenly, this moment seems endless.

Everyone is silent. Across the table, you see Loki looking a little wounded. Like he’s been punched in the chest. Not hard, but enough to make him flinch.

You don’t like it. You really don’t like it.

You look at Sif with new eyes. And you speak before you can stop yourself. The anger that builds in your chest bubbles up and it’s bitter. It tastes like acid.

Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much her unwelcoming behavior towards you has bothered you.

“You’re joking right?”

She looks at you.

Thor’s arm loosens around your waist, his hand finding a spot on your hip.

She doesn’t seem to have anything to say, but you have plenty.

“I guess your rudeness doesn’t stop at me, but apparently extends to even your lifelong friends.” You’re seething, chest burning, head getting fuzzier as the adrenaline from confronting her getting the better of your senses.

“Cherub…” Thor whispers, not to stop you, but with worry.

A realization overcomes his face as it softens, and he sees how much her refusal to be nice has hurt you.

“Just so you know, since the moment I met Loki he’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s been friendly and supportive and helpful and already the best brother-in-law I could ask for. I was seriously excited to meet you and get to know you because I’d heard a lot about your accomplishments but since I got here you’ve been nothing but abrasive, dismissive, and inappropriate with the way you act around Thor when you think I’m not watching.

“As far as I’m concerned, the only one that needs learn to put others before themselves at this table, is you. And if I could have it my way, I would ask you not to come to the wedding on Thursday but I know Thor wants you there so, as your Queen, I’m ordering you to come, whether you like it or not.”

The room is silent. Even Vostagg has frozen, mid-chew.

You get up, Thor’s hand stuck to your hip as if glued there, but he doesn’t stop you. Everyone else stands, even Hilde and Sif. Though she does it more slowly, chewing on the inside of her lip.

“I can’t eat anymore.” You huff. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

You make for the door but stop as you reach it, hand placed on the handle before you turn back towards the table and find Loki.

“For what it’s worth, anyone you choose would be lucky to have you.” With a final firm nod, you shove the doors open and stomp your way back to your room, taking the stairs as quickly as you can while hiking up your dress so that you don’t trip.

Even though your hands are shaking, your heart pounding, you feel much lighter now.

In your room, you strip the day away, dress left in a mess just inside the door. Your shoes just after. Stockings. Bra. Underwear at the bathroom doorway.

The water is already steaming hot when you walk into it, a sigh of relief hissing through your lips as you dip down into the water until your shoulders are submerged.

You’re not sure how long you steep there in the water—it could be seconds or hours—before you finally hear the bedroom door open.

“Y/N?” The voice pulls you from your empty space, that soundless pit in your mind where you go when you drift off into non-linear tangents of thought.

It’s the space where most of your stories come from. A space no one but you knows about.

“Leaving me breadcrumbs, cherub?” Thor asks, his voice lower, still out in the room. “This trail is intriguing.”

Half of your lip curls up in a smile, you keep your back to the bathroom door, intent on keep your mouth shut as long as you can so that you can hear what he really thinks about what you’ve just done in that dining hall.

“Dress. Stockings. Brassiere.” He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his voice cracks. “Underwear.”

He’s in the bathroom doorway now, and you hear the hiss of all of your clothing fall back to the ground as he drops it at the sight of you.

“Hello. Might I join you?” He’s actually asking and will go away if you tell him he can’t.

Because you still don’t want to speak, you look over your shoulder at him and give him a gentle nod.

You keep watching him, staring at him as he reaches up and unhooks the straps on his armor. He moves to the long wooden slat bench along the wall and places it there. He follows it with his black shirt, then he sits and pulls off his shoes.

As he takes off each piece, he looks up at you, meeting your eyes and watches you for any give in your mood.

Whenever he’s not looking at you, you admire the bend and shift of his muscular torso. There’s a power in his body that you’re familiar with. Not strength. That’s not what you mean.

He’s got muscles, sure, and he can lift probably tons. You’ve seen the clips of him in fights around Earth.

What you’re thinking about is the power underneath all the appealing surface. He radiates it and it’s intoxicating. It makes you feel safe when he’s with you.

With his boots placed aside, he stands and unbuckles the leather belt around his waist. He opens the front of his pants and pushes them down.

No underwear.

You’re seriously tempted to smile at the fact that he’s been going commando all day long.  You resist.

He throws them behind him then sits on the edge of the pool before lowering himself into the heated water.

He sighs in comfort but doesn’t give himself time to relish in the feeling before he’s moving towards you, the sloshy water splashing his golden body.

You wrap your arms around yourself just as Thor wraps his around you too. He pulls you close, smooshing your breasts against his chest.

He dips down to kiss your bare shoulder, then your neck, side of your chin, then finally a small and incredibly irresistible peck to your lips that almost cracks you. You almost throw yourself on him.

Instead you pucker right back, kissing him because you can’t resist him completely.

He really does have you wrapped around his finger.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I have worried how you would handle yourself in this position of authority that you’re marrying into.” Thor admits, tracing the curve of your shoulder with his large fingers.

He dips down again, kissing it then nips at it, teeth grazing lightly to pull on the skin.

It makes you shiver.

“You should give me some orders too.” Thor mumbles, his voice thick with arousal.

You really wanna laugh. Instead you keep silent and after a few moments, he pulls back to look at your face. Neutral. Eyes observant. No sign as to what you might be feeling.

The atmosphere grows more serious. Even though he’s got you squeezed to him, when he meets your eyes, you can see the worry there.

“Why didn’t you say anything before if you were that upset about Sif?”

“I did say something.” You remind him. “And I’m sure Loki did too. And Hilde.”

“No,” Thor shakes his head. “All of you said that she was jealous and unwelcoming. You are the only one that could have told me that it was really bothering you.”

And he’s right. You hadn’t exactly acted like it bothered you except a passing wish that you could get to know her.

With a shrug you shake your head.

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until tonight. She wasn’t being awful or anything. She just hasn’t said much to me.”

He’s silent for a bit, your eyes on the water by his elbow.

His hands find the sides of your face and gently he coaxes your gaze up to meet his own.

“I hate the thought of you suffering in silence.” He says, deep voice soothing the knots in your chest. “Promise you will tell me if anything or anyone hurts you. I will try my best to make it better.”

“You can’t fight my battles for me, Thor. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I can see that. But you don’t have to. I’d like to be useful if it’s possible. This might sound a little pathetic, but I’d very much like you to make me feel needed.” He pouts, and even though he’s playing with you, his words are real.

He doesn’t like being caught off guard. Not when it comes to things he should know. And by the looks of his face, the way that his playful pout turns into a real downturn to the corners of his lips, you fall under that category of things he should be aware of.

You nod, head barely moving underneath his heated hold.

He leans down to kiss you, just a loving peck before he wraps his arms around you to squish you against his body again and he tilts his head, urging your lips open with the tip of his tongue. He breathes in, a small moan pulled out of him as you swirl your tongue around his, tasting him. The honey in his ale still fresh.

He pulls back, eye still shut as he groans again. “Mmph, I could kiss you all day long and do nothing else.”

You know what he means. There’s something about these kisses, so charged. They feel amazing, toe curling.

Whatever chemistry the two of you have is all consuming and you don’t mind.

“Also, in case you think it went without my notice, I want to thank you for standing up for Loki.” Thor pushes your hair away from your face, leaning down to press another quick peck to your lips. “It means a lot to me that he has someone else on his side. After everything that’s happened, it’s hard for some people to see that he’s changed.”

“He’s been very nice to me. I didn’t like Sif talking to him like that. I know that I probably stepped on her toes. She’s known him longer than me, but the look on his face after she said what she said…” It’s making your blood boil all over again.

“Loki has done many things to warrant her mistrust, but her words were cruel. I’m very grateful you spoke on his behalf. I’m certain it meant a lot to Loki too.”

You untangle your arms from between your bodies, wrap them around him under his arms and lay your head against his chest.

“He’s my family now.” You sigh. “Both of you.”

It’s your new truth. You’re not alone anymore!

“I will fight for both of you if anyone hurts you.”

You feel it so fiercely that you squeeze him, and he actually groans at the gesture. You know that you can’t hurt him though, and he’s just humoring you.

He chuckles against your hair, kissing your head as he holds you back.

“I’m so glad you chose to come meet me.” Thor whispers, running his hand along the curve of your back.

“I’m so glad they forced me to come meet you.”

Both of you laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

The planet is nearly decimated.

It’s a shell of what it once was, but dark still. The cold bites harshly.

The rough terrain is snow-covered. Ice grows from the ground into tall towers that rise hundreds of feet into the frigid air.

In a crater, full of crumbling structures that once stood tall and menacing, is the entrance to a cave. The darkness dips down and winds through the ice, unstable and shifting, with cracks along ground walls and ceiling.

Despite the bitter cold, a small green light begins to glow down in the darkest pit.

The cave suddenly stretches, a ginormous cavern hundreds of feet in Jotunheim’s depths.

Through the darkness paces a figure, small in stature but glowing an almost ethereal jade. The light pulsates, wrapped around a female form. Her body is perfection. The Venus made flesh.

Her long blonde tresses cascade along her back, a golden river flowing past her waist. On her head a smooth emerald helm with twin peaks rising up like horns on either side of her brow.

Her tunic, well worn in the exact same shade of green as her helm as is the rest of her outfit. Over a pair of leather pants, an armored soft strap skirt laces up along her hips, and tall boot with a helix design in line stop just above her knees.

Her bodice is laced at her front, leather ties tied tight to keep out the cold. Her strong yet slender shoulders are wrapped in a long green cape, gray bear’s fur lining the neck for warmth. It sweeps around her as she carves a line in the ice with her restless movements.

From the darkest corner of the large cavern comes a deep but weakened voice.

“Cease your pacing, Asgardian. Before I stop it for you.”

His words are followed by a wheezing breath, a cough, and a deep slow sigh.

The woman stops, crossing her arms across her chest as she stares into the dark.

“How much longer must we wait? I can feel him slipping away from me. His eyes have wandered, yet again.” She drops one arm, slapping at her cloak in frustration.

“Your obsession with Odin’s whelp escapes my understanding.” The deep voice breathes in again, wheezes as he breathes out. “Remember my intent, witch. I will kill the God of Thunder.”

“Yes, I heard you the first million times you told me. I do not need the constant reminder. Thor will die.” She sighs, turning to look towards the entrance of the cavern, in search for the handsome golden face that rests in her heart. “You can kill him, as long as he dies loving me and only me. Thor is mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s your fifth time zoning out, your mouth slightly open as you stare at the reflection in your new vanity shoved into Thor’s spacious room.

“Your Highness?” Estrid nudges you, leaning forward to try and catch your attention.

“Hm?” You jump, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

She smiles at you kindly, knowing the source of your distraction. It isn’t hard to guess.

“What color rose shall we put in your hair?”

“Um…” You look down at your wedding dress, carefully spread out around you and held in place by your new set of intricate silver armor. It was cold when they’d put it on you, the metal touching your bare shoulders, but it’s padded so that it doesn’t hurt.

The design is very practical. It’s real armor that you’re expected to wear for official military events or if there is an actual attack on the palace. You’re going to be a warrior people’s Queen and a warrior husband’s wife. The armor is made for you to use.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t also beautiful.

Thor made very specific requests to its pieces. Along the sides around your stomach is a delicate floral design. The shoulder pieces, not to be worn today because it makes you look gentler and more refined, are also decorated along its edges with vines of smaller flowers and at one outer corner of each piece is a blooming rose with its petals spread wide.

Along your wrists and forearms you wear bracers, just as beautifully decorated and there to help hold your sleeves down.

“Thor’s armor will be black?” You check, trying to remember what he’s supposed to wear.

“Actually, Your Highness, his Majesty’s armor will be silver, to match your own. With gold highlights along his breast plate. His cape will still be red. That is his best color.” She smiles, her hand resting by the collection of roses in a wooden box that had been filled this morning from the gardens.

“Then we’ll go with the red rose. The one in full bloom, and this lighter one, in half bloom.” You touch each one gently, caressing the velvety petals in admiration of their pretty color.

“An excellent choice, Your Highness.” Estrid quickly goes to attaching them, adjusting your hair on the top of your head and pinning them into place.

“Are you almost ready?” Hilde’s voice filters in, the door now wide open as she stands there staring in at you.

Her eyes are bright, her mouth open in awe.

“Does it look bad?” You worry, reaching up to touch your hair then reaching down to fuss with the armor.

“You look…” Hilde stops, at a loss.

“Beautiful.” David provides, a calm smile stretched across his lips.

“You made it!” You gasp, getting to your feet just as Estrid finishes with the flowers and rush to him.

He hugs you, laughing as you squeeze him tight.

“Ouch,” he says, teasing you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You pull away and he laughs a bit more loudly. “I thought you weren’t going to make it back in time. Where did you go?”

“I had a favor to do for your husband to be.” David explains, then pushes you back so that he can take a better look at you. “You are really, absolutely beautiful.”

That makes you feel better. More confident.

“He’s so right.” Hilde agrees, nodding with what looks like joy in her eyes.

“Thanks, Hilde. David? You are going to walk me down the aisle, right?”

David’s face goes blank. He looks to Hilde and then to Estrid before he meets your eyes again.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you!” You laugh, giving his arms a squeeze. “David, you’re the closest thing I have to family in my life. You’ve been a real father to me through all of this and everything before. Of course, I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

David’s eyes slowly grow misty, his smile growing wide by the moment before he pulls you back into a gentle hug.

“It would be my honor.” David whispers just for you.

“Ooh, none of that.” Hilde interrupts, reaching out to pull the two of you apart. “No crying, you’ll ruin your makeup and Estrid will have to do it again.”

You all laugh. Sweet chuckles of impending excitement as the hour that will change your life grows closer.

You seriously cannot believe that in less than two hours, you’ll be married. More importantly, you’ll be the queen of an entire people.

Most of them have been so welcoming. They’ve eaten up any information they could get on you and you’ve been so grateful for their kindness.

“Hey guys? Anyone here?” A soft lilting voice flitters in from the doorway and you turn to see who posses such a sweet sounding tone.

What you find, you aren’t expecting.

Completely contrary to the small and gentle voice stands what looks like a large collection of massive rocks piled up in the shape of a burly man.

There is a definition at the end of its arms of hands, feet without shoes at the ends of its legs. And at the center of the large mass that makes up its head is a kind looking face. Pure eyes. And he’s got it all topped with a slick black suit and a light blue tie.

He lifts his massive hand and waves it. It’s a minute movement as he stands up straighter with all eyes in the room on him.

“You’re a Kronan.” You realize, pointing at him rudely.

“Yeah, my name is Korg. Thor’s best friend and best man. Even though I’m not really his best man, since there is no best man in Asgardian weddings which is a shame since I would probably most definitely have been his choice. After Loki of course. That’s his brother. And probably Heimdall. His other best friend. And the Warriors Three. But definitely before Miek.”

You chuckle once, a slightly surprised and nervous laugh before you reach out towards him to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Korg. Thor was telling me about you yesterday. I’m Y/N. I’m so glad we can finally meet.” You wait patiently as his face goes slightly slack for a moment then he eagerly reaches out to take your tiny hand in his huge one.

He barely closes it around your own but shakes it with enthusiasm.

“Thor said you were a pretty lady. He failed to tell me about how nice you are. You’ll have to come over some time. To my house? We can play some Fortnite. I’ll even let you take the mythic.” He spouts, and you laugh again, just once.

“Oh. Okay. That’s so nice of you.”

He takes his hand back and Hilde finally moves to stand beside you.

“Did you just come to meet Her Highness? Or do you have a message from Thor?”

“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot. Thank you, Valkyrie. The car is here and ready to take you on the drive through the city?”

“Drive through the city?” You turn your confusion to Hilde and she waves to Estrid for your cloak who then rushes away to fetch it.

“It’s a quick procession through the main roads. Since the city temple hasn’t been built, this will be the only way for the people to see you. Normally they would come to the temple to be witness to the ceremony.” She explains.

“So, that’s why we’re having the wedding and the recep-the feast in the throne room.” You realize, nodding as Estrid lays your cloak over your shoulders then clips the thick red cape around you.

“That’s right.” Hilde smiles. “Is Thor already down there?”

“Yep. He said to ask you to be quick.” Korg nods.

“Why?” You wonder, turning that twist of confusion back to him.

“Uh, he said he’d like to have his wife already and be on his honeymoon. Then he said some other things that I don’t feel comfortable repeating about curves and skin, which I don’t have, by the way and I find it a little cruel of him to mention how good it tastes, especially that of his pretty lady. Felt a bit like bragging to me. Kind of rude, to be honest.”

“Thank you, Korg!” Hilde interrupts as you press your hands to your cheeks and feel them burn.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You wheeze.

“Why don’t you head down and let him know we’re on our way? Tell Armod to prep the heater. It’s cold today.”

You know she’s only assuming for your benefit. She doesn’t feel the bite of the cold here like you do.

Korg lumbers off without another word while you turn to David.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” You worry, for some reason desperate to make sure he’s here to walk you down the aisle.

Now that you have that image in your head, you don’t want to let it go.

You hadn’t thought about having a husband since you were a little girl but even then, you’d imagined a father walking you down the aisle. You’d never thought you would get the chance. And you have it now.

“Of course.” David puts his phone down and reaches out to take hold of your elbow. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

The next hour is a rush of movement. Gentle pushing and tugging and guiding from Hilde, Loki, and finally Heimdall and Thor as they settle you into a large levitating carriage. It’s not Earth tech, with the clear curves and colors of Asgardian design.

It’s open, so you understand the need for the cloak now. Armod is sitting at the front of this little ship, hands on a weird sort of lever that is supposed to make up the steering wheel?

The whole thing reminds you a little of the speeders in Star Wars.

“What is this?” You ask in wonder, looking underneath the vehicle as if you might see how it works.

“This is a Skiff. Modified to comply with Earth regulations. Normally the steering mechanism would be at the back of the ship.” Heimdall informs you, moving to touch a small panel on the side which pulls a small step out towards you. “Your Highness?”

You take his hand, and he helps you up, Thor following shortly behind him.

He sits beside you, still not having said a word.

As you turn to look at him, admiring him from his booted toes to his silver winged helm, you realize that he’s staring at you.

“What?” You gasp, reaching down to touch the fabric of your cloak and the bottom edge of your armor.

Does it look weird? You in armor is not a look you’d ever thought you’d be rocking.

The heat of Thor’s hand traces along the bottom seam of your armor on your back. Fingers tickling the curve of your bottom before he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close with gentle strength.

“You’re the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms, and beyond.” He gushes, and you laugh nervously.

Looking away from him because your neck, ears, and face are burning up and you can’t believe such a sappy grouping of words just came out of his stupid handsome mouth.

You feel his lips pressed to your temple, then cheek. You turn to look at him, wondering about what expression he’s wearing but instead he’s kissing you, eye shut, completely lost in the affection.

When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours. Breathing a little hard as you yourself shiver.

“I love you.” He whispers, so soft and quiet only you can hear him.

“Thor…” You breathe, reaching up to hold his hand as he places it on your cheek.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same. I just want you to know that this is it for me. I didn’t expect to feel this way by today but now that I do, I’m so grateful for you and I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His confession leaves you weeping, eyes flooded with tears that streak down along your cheeks.

“Thor…” You gasp, pulling him down to kiss him again, just one quick kiss so that you can free your mouth up to speak. “I love you, too. I didn’t know that I could feel this way so quickly. But I do. I love you.”

Thor smiles, the brightness in his face is radiant and you’d swear he is literally glowing.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, a laugh in his voice as he reaches into his own cloak to pull out a sleek black handkerchief.

He pulls it up to your cheeks and gently wipes the tears from your cheeks.

“Because you’re saying all these stupid sweet things that I want to hear and I’m so fucking happy, alright?” You sob just once, reaching out to push against his chest but he catches your arm and pulls you into a hug as he chuckles.

The Skiff begins to move, and you and Thor pull apart when the cheers begin.

You’re still trying to catch up in your mind to the mass of people waving and cheering from the sides of the main street through the city. There are endless flashes from human reporters who came to take pictures. In no time at all, the Skiff is pulling up to the front of the palace.

David is waiting for you and he frowns at the tear stains on your cheeks but a quick look at Thor and his dip to kiss your lips wipes all worries from his mind.

“See you in there, cherub.” Thor calls to you, leaving you just outside the doors of the throne room.

Estrid meets you there and quickly goes to work on fixing your face.

“It’s okay.” You squirm, trying to keep Thor in view but the doors close and all you get to see is the long table on the right side of the room with two large chairs meant for you and Thor during the feast and an array of smaller tables on the opposite side of the room.

Along the left side wall, at the very back are a group of men and women, all wearing stiff black suits. The ambassadors?

“They were happy tears.” You continue to resist, eyes lingering on the scary government group.

“Hilde will tear my hide, Your Highness. Please.” She begs and you stay still for her even though you doubt that Hilde would ever hurt anyone like she suggests.

“Are you nervous?” David asks, reaching to straighten your hair.

“No.” You admit, shaking your head only when Estrid is done with your face.

Instead her hands are on the clasp of your cloak as she peels it off of you and throws it over her arm and then moves around you to straighten your dress.

“I’m so ready to be his wife, David.” You sigh, the feeling of madness on the edges of your mind. “Is that weird? It doesn’t feel weird.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not weird, if it’s really how you feel. I only want you to be happy.”

“He makes me happy. Really. I was worried about Jane in the beginning and scared about loving him if he didn’t love me back. But he’s more invested in us than I thought he would ever be. He’s being real, I think. It feels real. When he tells me he loves me, it doesn’t sound like a lie.”

David watches you, then taps Estrid on the shoulder. “Thank you, I think she’s ready. Tell them we’ll be right in.”

Estrid gives you a curtsy and disappears through the doors.

You steal a look and spot Thor rolling back and forth on his feet in front of the throne as Loki talks in his ear beside him.

He looks towards you and he smiles, stopping his nervous movement as he locks eyes with you.

Your heart stutters. The doors close again.

“Y/N…I want you to be vigilant with your emotions. You say that his declarations don’t sound like lies and they might not be. But lies like that never sound like lies.”

Your heart sinks a little, your mind racing with every moment that Thor has been sweet with you.

“It’s real, David.” You protest.

“Yes.” He nods, taking your hands in his. “After watching the two of you together, I believe both your emotions are real. Just as you say. I only want you to guard your heart. I want you to protect yourself.

“Marriage is not easy. I have only my own experience to speak from, but there were many obstacles that I did not expect. Laura and I hurt each other many times.” David explains.

“But you and Laura were together until the end. You were both so in love.” You hadn’t known his wife long.

She’d passed only a year after you having known her but every time you’d seen them, they’d been the picture of romantic love and true friendship.

“We were.” He nods, “But it wasn’t always easy. She and I both made many mistakes. Small ones and mistakes that challenged the very core of our relationship. Mistakes that almost tore us apart.

“And this is your first relationship. The first time you’ve ever given yourself over to someone like this. I’m worried for you. That’s all.”

“And that’s why I love you. You’ve been here for me when I’ve needed you most. I will be careful but I want to embrace what I’m feeling.”

“And that’s all I want too. Just your caution. Protect your heart, Y/N. No one else will protect it better than you.”

Really, you understand his worries. This is such a risk not only for you but for Thor too. The two of you hardly know each other.

Your chemistry is through the roof, but there is so much about who you two are as people that you still have to learn. Your lives as King and Queen will also play a part in how your marriage will come together.

Will you have time for each other? Time to make an heir? Time to spend time with whatever family you’re able to make?

“I can’t promise you that I’ll guard my heart well.” You shake your head but squeeze his hands tighter. “I can only promise that I’ll be true to how I feel. If something starts to go wrong, I’ll be open about it. With Thor and with anyone there to support us.”

Because let’s face it, you’ve known for a while that you’re absolutely fucked when it comes to Thor.

You’re head over heels and grateful that he is too. At least your marriage will begin with love even if in time, that fades. You’ll always have the memories you’re making now.

“I suppose this is the apprehension every father feels when his daughter marries. I’ll have to suck it up. But just know, that if you ever need a place to go, if something should be terrible enough that you need to leave, my home will always be open to you as sanctuary.

“I will protect you, as best I can when the time comes.” He pulls you to him, hugging you tightly.

“If,” you correct him. “If the time comes.”

Because you’re certain in your bones that Thor loves you and you love him, and the only thing that could tear that love apart is each other and you can’t see either of you making such a stupid mistake.

The large wooden doors open. David pulls back and takes your hand, wrapping it around his elbow. He lets you take a breath before he takes that first step towards the throne where Thor stands waiting, beaming with joy as his future wife approaches.

[comradekatara]

ik this is an atla blog but... could we hear some of ur izumi headcanons? (perhaps a sprinkle of izumi x kya if ur feelin generous)

been sittin on this ask since april (sorry!!!) bc i wanted to give this question the attention it deserved (and also there are just. a lot of asks in the inbox to get thru. oof). also yess i’m glad someone else is as fascinated by the potential of kya/izumi dyke drama as i am. fwiw, all of this is canon-compliant with what we know (so far) from lok. some of these have already been said, but it never hurts to rehash deep lore...

izumi is found in a dumpster. when it becomes apparent to zuko that whoever left her there isn’t coming back for her, he decides to take her to a local orphanage. he’s halfway there by the time he has already become irrevocably attached to this quiet, curious, perfect baby and is like “okay my baby now” and takes her home.

when katara gets a postscript at the bottom of a letter from zuko that simply says “oh by the way i have a daughter now” katara doesn’t even respond to the pages upon pages he wrote about import taxes and all that boring shit. zuko merely receives one page in response and all it says is “YOU HAD SEX???? WITH A WOMAN????”

zuko refuses to tell katara the truth. her version is better.

izumi is raised by the firelord and a small army of lesbians. zuko has to stop his friends from trying to give her knives all the time. yes, knives used to be a very loving gift during the war, but he’s trying to teach her about nonviolence goddammit!!!

she never has a crisis of sexuality or feels any pressure to like boys. she’s a lesbian and she knows it. everyone but suki is secretly baffled by how well-adjusted this child is. (suki doesn’t get the big deal.)

izumi knows that she is the crown princess, and that this means that she is going to be firelord someday. zuko always told her that being firelord is about being able to use their nation’s resources to help as many people as possible, and since two of izumi’s favorite things are puzzles and helping people, she is really looking forward to being firelord.

her other favorite thing is reading, which zuko obviously encourages but also finds quite strange because he always assumed reading was an activity solely pursued by sadder, lonelier children.

because she often gets so engrossed in her books that she accidentally stays up all night reading in the dark, zuko gets in the habit of placing extra-long candles in her room that will burn all night so she doesn’t have to strain her eyes. as she gets older and starts spending more time in the library, she winds up just carrying a sack full of zuko’s candles around just in case. it quickly becomes a family joke--if you end up in a dark room, better find izumi.

she winds up wearing glasses by the age of six. zuko is very worried about what this means for her future until izumi points out that her favorite people are visually impaired and they’re doing just fine.

she really likes toph, but thinks her kids are super weird. one of them is very regimented and disciplined in a way she cannot vibe with, and the other is very self-absorbed and theatrical. whenever toph brings lin and su around the palace, izumi ends up hanging out with toph instead.

one of izumi’s favorite pastimes is sokkawatching, which is like birdwatching, but instead of birds, she is studying sokka. she shadows him around all day and takes notes on what it is he is doing. she will hide behind curtains during meetings or walk just far enough behind him that he can’t see her. eventually sokka asks izumi if she would just like to, um, hang out?? but she gets so upset that he is now onto her that zuko has to intervene and convince her that sokka has no idea what he’s talking about, and that she is a master of espionage. since her cover has been blown, she needs a new mark, and starts following mai around instead.

when izumi is eight years old, her great-uncle iroh takes her and her aunt azula to ember island to see a show. izumi has quite a mature appreciation for theater for an eight-year-old—she reads plays, as any child of her father surely would, and has been known to enjoy live performances in the capital—but she fucking hates this play. she squirms in her seat until azula would look monstrous if she didn't take her to the restroom, and there the two of them remain until the curtain call. when it's over, iroh is quite convinced that the two of them concocted that little scheme together… and he's exactly right.

izumi starts attending meetings when she is eleven, and she constantly interrupts to ask questions. if anyone is bothered by this they wouldn’t dare let zuko know. all her questions are so smart and incisive anyway that very few people can find it in them to be annoyed when they are far too busy being impressed.

some monarchs might have felt a bit alarmed, and perhaps unnerved by thoughts of their own mortality, if their daughter applied herself to studying the work of running a country at as young of an age and with as much alacrity as izumi does. zuko, on the other hand, has been hating his job and showing it since 101 AG. izumi suspects the duties of the firelord aren't nearly as bad as all that, but her father is sensitive, and was forced into the role at a particularly difficult time. for her, studying how to run the country that her father has so carefully reformed so that she can step into the role as early as possible is a generous gift.

because izumi is the crown princess, there is little chance of her making it to adulthood without navigating a few awkward encounters with boys who hope to woo her. zuko is too saddened by the idea to know how to begin to prepare her for it. but as it turns out, izumi doesn’t need that from him. starting around the age of 12, she observes that many of the staff around the palace tend to read a lot of old-fashioned romance novels. seeking to better understand the entertainment choices of the women with whom she spends most of her time, izumi selects a handful of books from that genre to read for herself. she finds story after story about young, attractive members of the royal court finding love with unlikely suitors and suitresses. though these books aren’t to her taste at all, she understands the appeal and makes the logical connection that this type of story is viewed as a sort of script—the most sensational path a princess could possibly take. she practices saying variations of "no thank you" in her bedroom mirror until she settles on a polite enough tone that even the most earnest suitor couldn't possibly take issue with it, and that's that.

izumi starts demanding more homework. this ultimately means more work for sokka, who has to create an entirely new curriculum designed just for her, and then has to sit there while she does her homework in case she has any questions. and then, once she’s done, they go over it together and even if she gets everything right she forces him to point out areas in which she could have improved. suddenly sokka longs for the days that katara (and later toph) would yell at him that math is stupid and they shouldn’t have to learn it because they can bend. how foolish he had been at the time… he should have savored that…

izumi's first crush is on mai. it's humiliating, since she's well aware that mai has been playing with her since she was in diapers (and even faintly aware that mai and zuko had some sort of ambiguous summer fling as teenagers that they are now too embarrassed to talk about), but for a short stretch of time between the age of twelve and thirteen, suddenly izumi sees her old family friend in a new and magical light. and during that same stretch of time, she faintly hates ty lee. this confusing intrusion of unwanted feelings leads to a humiliating moment that is best described as izumi's first tantrum. when she is invited to join the adults at a casual dinner, izumi dashes for the seat as far from her object of her affections as possible, and when ty lee teases, "what? do we smell?" izumi blushes and buries her face in her water. she doesn't look up from her plate until mai asks her (repeatedly, as it seems izumi didn't hear her) to pass the dumplings. at this point, izumi doesn't know what else to do but to shove the entire remaining portion of dumplings into her mouth all at once and then flee the room. so she does.

in the morning, she is mortified and apologizes to everyone for her poor conduct. mai and ty lee are nothing but understanding, and mai jokes that now she knows where zuko got his table manners. ty lee adds that izumi was going to have to do something immature at some point, or else no one was gonna believe she was human. the two of them leave court a few days later, and by the time they visit again a few months after that, izumi is relieved to find that her crush has faded away.  

the first time izumi meets katara, she feels as if she is meeting a celebrity. since katara never comes to the fire nation if she can help it, their paths have yet to cross, but izumi has heard of her, as if she is this mythic creature, through many, many stories, each more outrageous than the last. izumi does not think that meeting katara will prove a particularly long encounter, since katara couldn’t possibly have the time of day for her. she is quickly proven wrong, since katara cooks her dinner herself and keeps piling more and more food onto her plate. izumi is too well-mannered to inform katara that she is full, and katara keeps insisting that she doesn’t eat enough. izumi has no idea how katara could possibly come to that conclusion, since they have known each other all of one hour, but according to katara, izumi must eat more.

other than trying to feed izumi every three seconds, katara is surprisingly normal. izumi had assumed she was some sort of terrifying goddess by the way people talk about her. she’s very warm and nurturing and personable and has no filter whatsoever. in fire nation meetings, everyone speaks formally as a sign of respect, but in the southern water tribe, apparently it’s considered rude if you’re not completely candid. at first, izumi is horrified by how freely people insult each other, but then she quickly becomes delighted by the fact that bluntness is considered a virtue, and formality, passive-aggression. everyone refers to each other by first name, no title, and they’re all like one big family. people still treat katara with reverence despite this, even though she makes it pretty clear that she’s tired of being hero-worshipped.

one of the most delightful qualities that izumi admires in katara is her ability to memorize, recite, and hunt down gossip. izumi is introverted and polite and would never dream of asking brazen questions like whether haru has finally seen sense and shaved that beast on his lip or whether toph is "still getting her story straight" about where her daughters came from. (as far as izumi knows, toph has only ever told just the one, tongue-in-cheek story: she made the girls herself out of clay and she'll earthbend them back into dust if they don't behave.) but izumi is awed by katara's willingness to just ask these kinds of questions and she decides to take a lesson from this approach. being direct doesn't hurt anyone when katara does it, and it's a skill that will eventually serve izumi very well as firelord.

the south pole is also where izumi first meets kya. to kya, who is being taught two very conflicting ideas of what the fire nation represents, meeting izumi firmly solidifies her in the “the fire nation is nice and progressive” camp. that said, she also knows that her mom would disapprove if she and izumi got involved… which only makes izumi all the more enticing, naturally.  

katara teaches izumi about what she considers to be the core tenets of her culture: “communal living, versatility & resourcefulness, democracy, and looking cute on a budget.”

izumi returns to the fire nation convinced that the southern water tribe is the coolest place in the entire world (and not just literally). sokka is so incredibly proud.

and, by the second time she visits katara, izumi is far more comfortable with going penguin sledding.

izumi attempts to go through a phase of teenage rebellion when she is fifteen, but zuko puts an end to it by encouraging her. he’s like “fuck yeah be gay do crimes.” learning that her dad was once a baleful vigilante/highwayman immediately quells her desire for antics & tomfoolery.

...well. most antics, anyway. a few weeks before izumi's second visit to the south pole, kya sends izumi a letter that includes an illustration of a particular type of plant that grows in the fire nation palace garden and a request that she bring a clipping back with her next time. apart from the produce garden where they grow fresh fruit and vegetables for the palace, the palace garden is considered the domain of suki and her friends, so izumi naively enlists suki to help her to find it. suki smirks to herself as she directs izumi to the right place and helps her cut a generous clipping of it. and that's the story of how, on izumi's second visit to the south pole, kya introduces her to the joys of recreational weed: a secret hobby the two of them will indulge in together all their lives, whenever they happen to see each other.

(though this, too, becomes a little less cool and a little less sexy when, one night back in the fire nation, izumi steps out onto her balcony and sees her father, her aunt, toph, sokka, and suki all smoking weed in the courtyard below.)

by the time kya is seventeen, she has petitioned katara that she ought to go travel the world on her own, since she’s the daughter of a nomad and a swashbuckling heroine, so it’s only right. katara finally relents. kya basically just makes a round tour of all the lesbian hotspots across the globe, from visiting her favorite auntie toph, to living it up on kyoshi island, to the fire palace, with a certain princess in mind.

katara keeps insisting to kya that no, she’s not a homophobe, she just disapproves of monarchs! so as a test kya brings the most heinous girl she knows (who isn’t su, that is) over for dinner, and katara has to be extremely gracious the entire time. after she leaves she says to kya “wow....... I love her :’)”

kya and izumi share an intellectual bent, an appreciation for music, and a desire to see the world. they also share their first kiss. izumi breathlessly expresses her surprise that smart, worldly kya hasn't been there before with one of the boys or girls at the south pole, but kya waves a hand and says that no one there is cool enough for her. when kya asks why izumi hasn't kissed anyone before, izumi just quips that books don't have lips as soft as kya's.

they have a whole "together-when-we're-in-the-same-place; single-when-we're-not" thing going on for a while, but izumi really loves to write love letters, and before they know what's happened, they're monogamous and living on opposite sides of the world. oops!

they are very much in love. they are also fully aware that their relationship has an expiration date, and it is the second izumi becomes firelord. kya may be reluctant to admit it, but her mom was right: being involved with the firelord…. well it’s a bad look. she comes from a long line of anti-imperialist revolutionaries. she can’t exactly settle down with a monarch. izumi, having been raised by zuko, is about as anti-monarchy as a monarch possibly can be, so she understands completely. they both agree that their duties come first, and when they do break up, it will be amicable and mutual. their last days spent together while still technically a couple are bittersweet.

izumi’s coronation mostly involves all of zuko’s old friends taking turns squishing her cheeks (even though she is an adult, and also the firelord now) and tearfully regaling her with anecdotes from her childhood, which she remembers perfectly well because she was there. she very graciously hugs and thanks all of them for forging a path to peace, promising to make them proud. they all assure her they already are.

she and kya break up that night, by the turtleduck pond. it is a quiet, poignant goodbye.

the following week, kya immediately travels to the north pole to rebound with the most repressed lesbian she can find. she thinks it’s only fitting.

izumi has a lot more freedom as firelord than zuko ever did, in large part due to the fact that no one ever thinks to question her legitimacy. she has a very commanding presence, always giving off the vibe that she is the most intelligent person in the room (whereas, of course, zuko gives off the vibe that he is just a little boy who loves arson… well into adulthood).

izumi thinks in lists, much like sokka and her aunt azula; unlike most people she knows, her favorite historical avatar is not kyoshi or even yangchen, but szeto, but it’s for good reason. she groups like things into categories and she groups tasks into mental to-do lists which are of course completely different from the to-do lists she does need to write down. this will serve her well as she will eventually go down in history as one of the firelords with the most documentation on her life and the lives of her allies—which is of course part of the point. so of course, she's also strategic about what she doesn't write down: the sexualities of the family friends one generation above her; the quiet trade agreement between the fire nation and the water tribes that favors the water tribes just enough that it would be a whole thing if certain loud fire nation citizens got word of it; and the story of the one time she kissed lin beifong.

izumi’s personal pet project is the implementation of countless public libraries across the country, which also double as shelters. the same way that zuko had a reputation as being the firelord who really revitalized theatre, izumi has a reputation for being horny4libraries, and she’s proud of that reputation, dammit.

one day, for seemingly no reason, sokka decides that he is simply too old to be micromanaging royalty. it was cool and funny and, well, necessary when he was 16, but now he really does have better things to be doing with his time. this doesn’t stop izumi from wheedling him for diplomatic advice, because she refuses to part with such a valuable asset, so instead sokka agrees to play her in pai sho whenever she “needs it.” she always knows exactly how to solve her problem immediately after a game’s conclusion. zuko doesn’t understand how that works at all, but azula’s like “lol classic sokka.”

toph takes izumi on a life-changing field trip to go look at bugs in the woods, and all the headlines that week read variations on “NOTORIOUS EARTHBENDING ANARCHIST KIDNAPS FIRELORD, HOLDS HER HOSTAGE IN A FOREST.” neither of them are aware of the political scandal they’ve caused because they were too busy studying cool bugs.

as izumi approaches 50, she decides to treat herself to a birthday gift that becomes her pride and joy: a top-of-the-line future industries motorcycle. her father may choose to travel the world in style on druk, but izumi's tastes run more toward ground transportation (which is to say: she gets violently airsick, and seasick, too). of course, she can only really ride it anywhere if she's prepared to either travel with a motorcade or sneak out past her guards and keep her face hidden the whole time she's out. the former cramps her style and limits her speed, so she chooses the latter. she generally takes it short distances, just far to get some air, but on one memorable occasion when lin beifong is visiting ember island, she takes it all the way through the mountains and down to the beach just to see the look on that crabby old cop's face.

izumi names her son after her beloved late grunkle… mostly because it was the only way to satisfy sokka, who insisted that since, decades ago, he won a bet against zuko to someday name his grandchild, it was only fair that he get naming rights. zuko, at the time having assumed that he would never have grandchildren, was like “yeah okay whatever,” but sokka never forgot. as if he would ever pass up the opportunity to publicly embarrass the fire nation royal family! but he had to admit that iroh was a pretty good name. almost as good as Sokkaruleszukodrools, which unfortunately and unjustly got passed over.

izumi always loved aang, and found meditating with him to be really clarifying. it's only natural that his death breaks her heart. but it's in her nature to come up with a productive outlet for any emotion she feels, even grief, and that holds true in this case. she is walking through the library on air temple island when it hits her: there ought to be an "official" biography of avatar aang and his life, dictated by his friends. though her initial idea was to hire one of her many respected writer friends for the job, kya and tenzin insist that it'll only be worth anything if izumi writes it. so she does. a biography of the avatar, written by the firelord. friendships last more than one lifetime after all.

izumi is, of course, aware of the new avatar from the moment she's born. the notes she has on korra fill an entire cabinet of scrolls and notebooks (as any of her advisors knows, her choice of paper just depends on how fancy she's feeling). korra is nearly sixteen by the time she's ready to learn firebending, and izumi personally sends the ship that will pick her up and take her to the fire nation. since she has not met korra before and doesn't know her tastes, izumi makes sure the ship is fully stocked with plenty of soft, comfortable clothing in all colors and sizes, all meant to be reasonably modest while still suitable for the warm weather korra will run into on the journey. so izumi is understandably surprised when she meets the ship at the docks and finds korra in a jaggedly sewn scarlet crop top that she clearly tailored herself. korra blushes and explains that she's never experienced warm weather before and got a bit overzealous. they laugh about it, and izumi orders a whole closetload of more teenage-friendly clothing to be delivered to korra's quarters.

zuko dies peacefully, in his sleep, at an old and happy age, but that doesn’t mean his death doesn’t affect izumi. she immediately takes time off to crash at the south pole with katara and kya, and they spend the next few weeks just sitting by the fire, swapping stories about their respective adventures, and having a lovely (albeit extremely tearful) time. izumi then goes to visit toph and suki in the earth kingdom, who are both apparently chilling in different parts of the same vast swamp. they teach her about how everything in the swamp is connected, that separation and time and death are all illusions. finally, the last leg of her trip is spent on ember island, where she sits by the beach, staring at the moon’s silver reflection on the black sea, and once more feels at peace.

[shesawriter39049]

|Breakdown’s & Bugatti’s| M|

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (Ft a hint of Tae & Jin)

About- Namjoon just does what he has to do to keep you ....calm while at a charity gala!  

OR:

CHAPTER 1 : MEET THE KIMS OF NEW YORK 

**WARNINGS: **Semi public sex, Fingering (F receiving), Minimal prep, Light dirty talk, Light spit play, Choking, Spanking, Gags (Makeshift), Non protective sex (Creampie), light overstimulation

WC: 7K (This is a sneak peak so it’s 1.2k)

NON SEXUAL WARNINGS: (Fictional political background)  Hints at recreational drug use (Molly) Brief mentions of death, father issues, and panic attacks/anxiety (All of these topics are super minor but again, out of respect I’m mentioning them) 

The remaining “characters” will be introduced at a later date

This chapter hints at various future plots 

This is almost 2 years old, I reworked it recently 

If you’ve been following me for a while this is the original draft for “Club First Royale” 

FINAL NOTE: I haven’t been active in damn hear a year ( 8 months) So I am posting sneak peeks intentionally! No, not to torture you guys lol but to get my blog flowing again because I’m sure people aren’t really checking in anymore

OT7 ALTERNATING STORYLINES

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FINALLY, fuck 36737 years later you spot your Kim!

Standing there in all his glory, in a Valentino slim fit navy blue suit, the jacket appearing to have some sort of paisley print, opting against a tie. Leaving his crisp white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, teasing at his broad carnalized chest as he makes his way from the bar. Heading over to the table, which has an empty seat waiting right beside him with your name written all over it...literally!

Purposely dodging the old lady to your left in a coat that would have PETA ready to throw hands! Gaudy diamonds, terrible Botox, and smelled as if she showered in an entire bottle Chanel No. 5! 

Yeah, no, sorry, not in the mood for another meet and greet right now!

“Joonie” Squeals from your lips once you’re in close enough proximity, his dark piercing eyes cut over to meet yours. A playful smirk tugging on those sinfully thick lips of his, accompanied by those disrespectful ass dimples!

“There she is!” Eyes dripping with warmth, as he ushered you in with open arms ,and in these types of situations, Namjoon felt like home, he was your safe space. “You look fuckin good” The words hushed into your hair in a tenor meant for your ears and your ears only! A hint of something a little more than just friendly playing on his tongue. 

A small little “Thank you” leaves your lips, and if I didn't know any better I’d think the compliment made you a little flustered.

Namjoon was the definition of Ocean arm’s and goddamn if you didn't just love how big this man was! It literally felt like he was hiding you from the entire universe when he has you nuzzled into his frame! The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 20 seconds in all actuality but god you needed it! 

Face flush to his chest, wrapping your arms firm around his waist, letting your eyes flutter shut briefly, a deep slow exhale flooded through your body. Inhaling the musky yet sweet scent of his cologne mixed with his natural aroma, which has grown to become a calming mechanism over the years. 

“You had me worried for a minute…” Placing a quick kiss in your hair, that you would have missed if you blinked but again, your in public soo...

Palms soothing up and down your back gently, as he breathed into your hair , pulling back a little so there was some form of personal space between the two of you.  

“Your late, even for you princess...I know you started early, I got your live(Instagram) notification, so what happened?” Head clocked to the side as he appraises you and fuck, the bass in his voice still has you all types of fucked up! Glancing over your shoulder briefly before leaning up to place a kiss on the hinge of his jaw, that tittered the line of passing as an “innocent” greeting. 

“I’m fine Jonnie it’s nothing, we just got held up in glam.., Ariel was flying in from Miami...we got a late start” Gaze intentionally diverted as you welcomed yourself to his glass of Scotch instead. Damn near inhaling the entire drink as we speak and you hated dark liquor so that alone let him know something was up!  

Merely resisting the urge to smooth out the crease he felt forming between his brows, a dry snort left his lips, rolling his eyes in response to your blatant stubbornness. Nevertheless, always the gentleman, reaching down to pull out your chair so you could take a seat next to him. Mirroring your actions just moments prior, quickly scoping out his surroundings before he brought those plush pillows he calls lips a centimeter away from your ear.

Fuck. 

  “Right, so I'm just going to assume you don’t wanna talk about it right now! Or wait I’m sorry, have you just upgraded to insulting my intelligence straight to my damn face?” 

Brow quirked inquisitively, and you could literally feel every word, tone taking on a hint of seriousness the more he talked. Namjoon licked his lips and the tip skimmed the edge of your ear and I - . 

“For one you smell like an entire bottle of Heidsieck, I can almost taste the nicotine on your tongue and you've been crying I know you. ”  

Pulling back just enough to glare down at you above the brim of his glasses, which he always wore low along his bridge. Eyes daring you to look him in the face a lie again, teasing his fingers through his chocolate locks. Styled in the perfect semi grown out undercut, the top a little on the long side, while the sides tapered into a crisp fade. Sideburns outlining that extremely understated jawline of his! Though you had to admit the yellow gold diamonds dawning his ears were kinda stealing the show right now! 

“So again, do you just not wanna talk about it right now? Or have you forgotten that I have an IQ of 137, and can smell bullshit from here all the way to Gangnam!?” 

You're having very vivid day daydreams of your hand wrapped around this man's windpipe and for once it’s not even remotely sexual! 

Blatantly ignoring the strong twitch within Namjoon’s jaw and simply saying “I’m here, aren’t I!?” Face stoic, tone flat as all hell, in case it wasn’t clear that this conversation was more than over, you opted to eye his bourbon glazed salmon until he got the hint.

 “Oh, for fucks sake! ” Hissed from his lips without a lick of heat behind them, because as quiet as it’s kept ,your lowkey Joon’s baby, which is why he cares to begin with! Picking up a piece on his fork before essentially shoving it into your hand ”Your lucky I can’t have your ass getting sick on me tonight, we still have like, 3 hours left of this bullshit.”

More like he just can’t tell you no, but hey, whatever helps him sleep at night! Sliding his plate in your direction, completely giving up on eating at this point, he knew you needed it more anyway! Finally, starting to feel your mix of poisons hit your system so you knew you needed  to even it out with a little substance. I mean yeah, you could have just ordered your own plate but meh, this was easier! 

Namjoon started busying himself on his phone while you ate, scrolling through a couple contacts until he landed on a contact labeled under “Kookie”.

“Even though you were only late because “Your glam team ran late” There were air bunnies involved, and again you just really wanna choke his ass!  “What are you thinking tonight? He’s actually on his way here right now, but he already has a couple options on him...” 

The question was vague and for damn good reason...considering…

However you knew exactly what he was referring too.., and thank god!

Speaking over a mouth full of salmon, sounding utterly exasperated!  “Honestly, any fucking thing at this point…” 

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, sucking on a Bourbon soaked Ice cube “He’ll be here in 20, I just went with Smartees…always a safe bet...” 

Smartees, candy, Vitamin -E, Molly... Estcasy...it’s all one and the same, just depends on who you ask!

He leans back in, apparently keen on whispering tonight. “Maybe, if your a good girl and eat enough we can split one before we leave...chill you out a little bit. '' Voice thick and heady, lips curling into a grin with a hint of something wicked playing on the ends, as his fingers idly ghost over your forearm. Giving it a light squeeze and regardless of how innocent the skin-ship may seem to the naked eye, you’re well aware of all the underlying innuendos behind it! 

You make a noise of agreement, trying your damnedest to ignore the slight chill coursing up your spine at the pet name. Though before you could even dwell, Namjoon was sliding back in with another update, this one however wasn't as...arousing…to say the least!

“Fox 2’s been waiting for you to get here by the way...since the event was put together by council and all. They've been wanting to talk to us together about the fundraiser, just the same shit as last year.” 

Waving his hand dismissively idly twirling the various pieces of Bvlgari around his fingers, seemingly un-phased while you on the other hand...release the most exasperated huff! Reclining against your seat, eyes rolling to the back of your head in 30 different directions! Yeah, It comes with the territory, you know this, hints Namjoons reaction, or lack thereof!  But fuck you just really weren’t in the mood to do press tonight, It’s literally physically exhausting to pretend that you weren’t just PISSED! 

“Of -fuckin- course they do!” Stabbing your mashed potatoes in a way that's... somewhat concerning… 

“Baby.” It was a warning, though his voice sat barley above a whisper, his tone was crystal! Eyes cutting in your direction briefly before dropping back down to his phone….

You didn't have it in you to argue, there’s no way around this anyway, fuck it!  “What -the-fuck-ever!” Sliding the half empty plate aside “Well, you wanna just get it out of the way now? Because I’m really not in the mood for-”

“Y/n..oh my god! Hi, honey how are you!? You look beautiful as always…” Suddenly there was a human, a human wearing the wrong shade of foundation kissing your cheek. A human by the name of Caroline, one of the local news anchors...clearly her damn ears were ringing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys, that’s all she wrote, well kinda, actually she finished it like 16 months ago lol but that’s all she wrote for now I guess....

**_

_****Love you...see ya soon!!**

***SIDE NOTE, MY FRIEND MADE THE TWITTER EDIT SO DON’T ASK LOL IDK ****

UPDATE: HEADCANONS FOR THE KIM BOYS/OC

  HEADCANONS

[lettersinscarlet]

Notes (Obey Me! Lucifer Imagine)

What’s up guys? It’s me again! See, I promise, I’m slowly resuscitating my blog. Apparently, it just takes me forever to write, so that’s fun. But anyway, I am here to deliver an imagineto you! My requests are open, and I have a whole list of different fandoms and characters I write for, so feel free to drop a request in and I will get to it! It’s just I’m a little slower now when it comes to writing. Hope you enjoy this one!

———————————————————————

You were walking down the halls of the House of Lamentation, just heading back to your room after classes. Your teachers had given you a ton of work to do, and you figured that if you started now, you might be able to finish it all before you passed out from exhaustion. But if you’re being honest, you might do a few assignments and then procrastinate and turn the rest of them in late or make an excuse as to why you couldn’t do them. Maybe Diavolo would take pity on you and give you a pass or something.

As you walked by, you passed the door to Lucifer’s office. You stopped outside, wondering if he was in there. You didn’t want to disturb him if he was working, but you just wanted to check up on him. You heard some soft music playing, which was just a little sign to you that he was in there. You sighed, hesitating outside the door, before you just shook your head and walked away from the place.

Honestly, you really felt bad for Lucifer. He was always in his office, almost like he was trapped in there because of the paperwork. You knew he never left, because when you would sneak down for a midnight snack from the kitchen or to get some water, you could hear that soft music playing from behind the door. He just had to be exhausted, working that late into the night without a lot of sleep, rarely taking breaks often. You could appreciate his work ethic, but you knew that was also one of his flaws, that he really would just work too hard.

With Lucifer always in his office, that also meant that you didn’t get to spend as much time with him as you wanted. You’d actually gone to hang out in his office, and those times were great. It was easier to talk to him than it normally was, and it gave you an excuse to make sure he was taking breaks and eating and all the good things. But even in those precious times, someone would come in with more work for him to do, or more forms he had to review and sign. It always seemed to kill the mood, and that smile of his that would show up would quickly disappear.

The hall seemed to stretch on forever, but you finally arrived in front of the door to your room. With a heavy sigh, you pushed the door open, heading straight for your desk, dropping your bag down beside the chair. You knew this was going to be a long night, and not even a single ounce of your being was looking forward to doing all this work. As you settled into your chair, you pulled out your various notebooks and textbooks, diving in and getting started.

Hours later, you decided it was time for a break. You were about halfway through with everything you had to do that night, but you knew you needed some sort of sustenance and water if you were going to keep going. Hopefully Beel hadn’t already cleaned out the kitchen, and maybe there would be a snack or two left for you. You stretched out your arms and legs, a few satisfying pops and cracks following the motions.

Quietly, you slipped out of your room and headed back down the long hallway, on your way to the kitchen. Before you headed to your destination, you wanted to check on Lucifer. You’d been working for awhile, and you really hoped that he’d decided to take a break, or maybe he’d stopped for the night. It was late anyway, and most of the other brother’s were asleep, with the exception of Levi. He’d told you he was waiting for a new sale that was starting tonight, and there was no way he would be sleeping until it was open.

When you stopped at the eldest brother’s office, you noticed that the door was cracked, but the music was still playing. A sign that he would be in soon, and you assumed he must’ve went to get something quickly, or maybe a bathroom break. A realization came to you that now was a chance to get him some water, because you were certain he hadn’t been properly hydrating.

You ran to the kitchen, making sure you were light on your feet so no one would hear your thundering steps. Snagging two bottles of water, you checked the cabinet, and it seemed you were in luck. There was a few snack options, and you grabbed your favorite of the options, then grabbed something you knew Lucifer would like. You hurried back to his office, feeling a bit like a spy on mission.

He still wasn’t back, and you walked into the room, heading straight for his desk. Papers were a bit scattered, his pen left on top of a small stack of documents. From the looks of it, he probably wouldn’t be stopping until the early morning with this amount of work. A sigh escaped your lips, and you went to set the water and snack on top of the papers, making sure he would see it. You noticed a stack of sticky notes nearby, and you grabbed one, placing it in front of the little refreshments you’d brought. Grabbing his pen, you wrote a little note.

“Don’t forget to have some water and food to keep you going. If you get a chance, please take a break, because you’re health is more important than the work.”

You signed your name at the bottom, adding a little heart. But, as you looked at it, you realized the heart was a bit forward. He could be coming back to his office at any moment, and you knew you didn’t have much time left. Somehow, you managed to turn the heart into a strange looking flower. Satisfied with your work, you put the pen back how you found it and ran out of his office, making sure you grabbed your own snack and water.

You made it back to your room unseen, and you took your snack break. It was more needed than you thought it was, because you seemed to be starving. The snack would be enough to hold you over, but you’d probably eat a little more at breakfast the next morning. Once you finished the snack, you walked back to your desk, setting the water down and getting back to work.

At some point during the night, you’d passed out on your desk. Notebooks sprawled out, papers scattered, pens on the floor but luckily your pencil stayed safe, just a few inches away from your hand. You woke with a start, an alarm you hadn’t realized you’d set blaring some annoying tune that you just had to turn off. When you finally succeeded in that task, you looked at the mess of things on your desk. Turns out you’d gotten more than you thought you had, and there were only a couple of assignments you would need to turn in late. Lucky.

You stretched out your hands, your back arching as you yawned, your body trying to wake up. It hadn’t been the most comfortable sleep, but at least it was something. As you were stretching out, you glanced down and you noticed a bright pink square. Next to the pink square, there was a water bottle, and what looked like some sort of food. Breakfast food. Wiping at your face, you blinked a couple times, waiting for your vision to clear up some. Then, you grabbed the note, bringing it to your face so you could read it.

“Thank you for the food and drink, and don’t worry, I took a break eventually. Looks like you could use some of the same. Don’t be late for class.”

The words were written in a fancy script, almost cursive, and it was very easy to tell that Lucifer had left it. There was even a small little flower drawn on the corner of the note. It made you smile, and you moved to eat your food and to get ready for school.

Neither of you ever really mentioned the notes to each other, it was just an unspoken thing between you. Each of you appreciated what the other had done, and it was almost like it was your little secret.

It started off as just that. Every now and then, you would leave a little note for Lucifer in his office. Most of the time, there was a bottle of water and a snack with it. Sometimes just the water, or sometimes it was just a little note for a check in. Usually, some sort of drawing accompanied it, of course, nothing with too much detail. Just a little something to maybe make him laugh or smile.

For whatever you’d left, he always gave you a note back. Even if it was just to say thank you. He’d leave them around your room, and sometimes, if he felt daring, even on your door.

This little passing of notes between you, it was almost like a game of tag, waiting to see if the other would leave something, waiting with anticipation to see how they would respond to whatever had been left. It was a wonderful little thing. So wonderful, that eventually, it became and everyday thing. You’d leave a little sticky note on his door, in his office, or just places around the House of Lamentation that you knew he would see. Most of the time, if you weren’t feeling super creative, you would just write hello in different languages, or maybe leave him random facts about yourself. The facts were his favorites, and you didn’t know, but he always saved the notes in one of his drawers.

Lucifer was walking to his office, and when he reached the door, he noticed a little blue square, just right above the door handle. He smiled, going to pull it off of the door to look at it closer.

“Out of all the stars, my favorite has to be the morning star”

The little compliment made him flush, and he quickly went to his office, going to put the note in the little drawer. He sighed, sitting down in his chair, leaning back as he spun a little bit as he thought.

He would never admit just how much your little notes meant to him, but he absolutely loved to read them. It made his heart swell with pride, and a little something else, too. The messages you left them, no matter how strange or weird, he found them wonderful and adorable. Even if it was just some random fact that taco cat is the same spelled backwards or forwards.

With each little note, he could feel himself slipping more and more into these little feelings for you. It had started off as a simple little crush, and then you actually took the time to check up on him, make sure he was pacing himself while he worked, also making sure that he was caring for his health. Just showing that sort of care towards him, it made him feel something a little stronger for you than just his little crush.

He sighed, rubbing his temple as he sat in thought. He hated not being able to do anything about these feelings for you, just keeping them trapped in his head and in his heart. It frustrated him, the fact that his thoughts kept wandering to you, knowing that he couldn’t act on them.

Wait a second... why couldn’t he act on them? He is Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride. He’s the oldest, he’s well respected, hardworking... so couldn’t he act on these feelings? Let you know that he wanted to hang out, more than just leaving these little notes between you? Of course he could.

He went to stand up, his brain determining that he should just talk to you, but then he stopped. Something about it didn’t feel right, and what would he even say? Slowly, he sat back down in his chair, now lost in his own thoughts. How was he supposed to do this? Lucifer’s eyes began to wander, and he settled on a sticky note pad.

It was almost as if a lightbulb had went off over his head, moving to grab the pad so he could begin writing. The perfect way to do this would be through your own little communication system, wouldn’t it be? This definitely felt like it was the right way. He took his time, elegantly writing out his little message. He looked it over, shook his head, and threw it out. Starting over, he wrote it out again, workin the phrase just a bit differently. Turns out, he didn’t like it any better. Writing this note for the third time, he made another few adjustments. This continued for about half an hour, until he finally crafted the perfect note.

Lucifer waited and then left, going to your room. He knew you weren’t back just yet, probably out with one of his brothers. He quickly slipped in, going to leave the note on your desk. There was no need to spend too much extra time in here, so he left relatively quickly, going to find something to do so that he wouldn’t think about the time. Now, he played the waiting game, feeling the anticipation of when you would see his note, wondering how you would answer it.

You came home a little while later, laughing as you walked back in with Mammon. He’d needed you to come along with him today to some sort of important event, but it turned out that the event was rescheduled or something, so the two of you just ended up hanging out together for a little while.

Once you could escape to your room, you flopped down on the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the soft material. It had been a bit of a long day, and you closed your eyes, just resting for a moment.

You woke up from your accidental nap, sighing as you sat up, just waiting for your body to truly wake up. When you finally did, you stood up and walked over to your desk, intending to start working on your other assignments or at least map out what you needed to do. That’s when a small pink square caught your eye, and you picked it up to read it.

“If your free, what would you think about dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us, at 7:00?”

The little question made you smile, and you held the note close to your chest. So he’d finally asked. You were bursting with excitement as you went to write on your own sticky note, your handwriting sloppy but still legible. You underlined what you’d said, and this time, you’d added the little heart. But it was under an exclamation point, so you could just play it off.

Nearly sprinting down the hall, you almost knocked over Mammon in your rush. But that didn’t matter, you could apologize later. You were just wanting to make it to Lucifer’s office as quickly as you could. Finally, you reached your destination, grinning to yourself as you realized he wasn’t in his office. You placed the note right in the middle of his desk, so that there was no doubt he would miss it, and then you dashed back out of the room. Now, you were headed to Asmo’s room, hoping he could piece together some outfit for you to wear.

Lucifer was riddled with nerves when he made it back to his office, sighing as he closed the door. He hadn’t really been able to focus since he’d left the last note, and it certainly didn’t help that you hadn’t answered yet. He knew you were back from RAD, because he’s heard you and Satan talk as you came in. Hours had passed, and still nothing. Was that your way of saying no? Surely, you’d tell him if you weren’t interested.

He sat down in his chair, reaching to grab a pen so that he could attempt to start on some paperwork, hopefully get through a few stacks, when something caught his eye. It was bright yellow, no mistaking that it was a sticky note. Lucifer’s heart pounded in his chest as he peeled it up, going to take a closer look at what it said. When he read it, a smile came to his face, followed by a quick breath of laughter. Just with a few simple words, you eased all his anxiety from the past few hours, almost making him forget them completely. He tucked the note away in his drawer, just smiling and overall pleased. He couldn’t wait.

“It’s a date!”

Three simple words, and it was enough to keep him smiling for the rest of the night.

[lovieebby]

White Winged Girl (part four)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

SugarDaddy!Henry Cavill x Fem!Reader (She/her)

Summary: As the universe would have it, she craves attention and it doesn’t matter what form it comes in. For Henry, it works perfectly because he loves to see the poor girl squirm as she begs for it.

WC: PFFT 1.2k

Warnings: 18+!! SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Oral (m receiving) tad bit of gaslighting, anxious reader & praise

Note: Guys I’m having so much fun with these! I wanted to keep these little parts at least 800 or less but I don’t think its gonna happen lmao! Tell me what you think, love you bunches!!

Today she had to prove herself. It wasn’t asked of her, but she had to. Henry didn’t talk nor look at her the same and she had convinced herself she wasn’t making it up. Even though he forgave her the night of her threatening to leave him, she still felt her heart deep in her gut. She secretly cried every time he didn’t answer her texts back within the few minutes he usually does and her knees shook every time she sat in his car on the way to wherever Henry was taking her that day.

She had begged Henry to just have a lazy day with her, though it didn’t feel lazy or relaxing when she took small steps up to his door. His cologne was strong as he pushed the door open for her— strong green sage mingling with sandalwood. His smell alone demanded attention and respect, shouting that there was a big and powerful presence before he even appeared.

She wore something cute but comfortable, Henry said they’d stay at his place for the night so she just expected a normal sleepover.

“You know you have a key right?” The way he said it made her shrink. There was the tinge in his voice; annoyed and frustrated.

“I-I know, I just…” She studdered as he led her inside his home that she dubbed as a castle. Her palms began to sweat with anxiety now that she had placed her bag by her shoes and had nothing to hold onto.

Henry seemed to ignore her drifted explanation, instead kissing her forehead before walking into the kitchen. He shouted that he had ordered in and the food should arrive soon and that only made her anxious mind ease just a tad at the promise of food. As she followed his voice, she felt out of place even though she had been in her daddy’s house many times before but this time she felt like there was tension heavy enough to bow the roof in.

The night was going easy enough with small talk, and she was glad Henry hadn’t asked her why she was so quiet. She truly didn’t want to have a confrontation about her mind running wild. They ate quietly, Henry’s four portions quickly gone and her small take out bowl half eaten. And that’s what made Henry believe nothing she said was right.

“What’s going on with you?” He asked, his tone once again short and agitated, “You love this kind of food, I mean unless that’s changed suddenly.”

Her heart had sunk deeper in the seemingly endless pit of her gut. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head with a quick ‘nothing!’ Though Henry wasn’t dumb, her body language said something completely different.

“Do I need to force it out of you or are you going to tell me yourself?” His fork clinked on the wooden table, his shoulders widening with a deep breath.

She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t want to know how he’d force it out of her but she also didn’t want to make herself out to be a dumb girl again. That’s what she feared the most; she didn’t want to be belittled by him and hear his teasing tone about how dumb she truly is. Her mouth opened and closed tightly, eyes wide with her chin wobbling. Henry’s brows rose, his jaw tilting down as he pushed his chair out and before he stood all the way, she stood up from her own chair.

“I fucked up and-“ And here we go again, her thoughts racing too fast where she stumbled and couldn’t complete one sentence, “and I know that so I want to fix it because you’re still upset with me.”

While she continued her babbles, the big man sat with a huff, his hand cupping his mouth to hold his smirk. The way she assumed he was upset and apparently distant with her more made him internally chuckle. It was wrong for him to get entertainment out of her anxious filled rant, but nonetheless he did. He breathed deeply when her words died down and her plump bottom sat in her chair beside him.

“I love how you assumed all of this. You got your punishment and you’ve learned right? So you shouldn’t be worrying your pretty head with all this nonsense.” He chuckled lightly as her cheeks heated, her lip trapped tight by her teeth and god did he love the way her eyes watered slightly.

“But you— It's true!” She yelled, her fists clenched on the table, which made Henry’s dark brows rise again. She knew this wasn’t made up and she knew he was doing that thing again with her. “You’re mad at me and yes, I’ve learned my lesson but you don’t talk to me the same or even touch me the same.”

“Baby, I might have been mad the first few days afterwards but we’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Henry spoke softly, he really didn’t like the way she yelled and he attempted to keep his cool.

The tears gathered up quicker this time, she wasn’t going to take that for an answer and she didn’t know what else to do other than sink to the floor and crawl in between his thick thighs. Henry shot back, his chair scratching on the hardwood floor from surprise, though he opened his legs wider to invite her in as he choked on a quick inhale of air.

“I ju-just want to be your good girl again.” She pouted on her knees, hands gripping tight on her loose joggers. “Please daddy.”

Henry wasn’t going to lie, the moment her knees hit the floor, his cock immediately swelled. And now that her doe like eyes glistened with remorse made the situation fall amazingly into his hands. He looked down, chin on his chest with a displeasing yet all the same pleased look. She waited for his nod of approval before she touched him and watched him move his shirt up and give her the go ahead.

She never moved so fast in her life. Her hands grasped the waistband of his jeans as he helped her undo all the steps to get his heavy cock out and into her mouth. She didn’t waste time, placing his long and thick cock in her watering mouth and shoved him all the way down her throat, making her daddy choke on his gasp. His hips launched forward as one hand gripped her hair as the other clenched tightly on the table top above his best girl.

“This what you need?” Henry grunted, legs quivering when her head bobbed while her spit created a lewd squelch, “Cock in your mouth to make you feel special?”

She hummed happily, her hands rubbing up and down his jean clad legs as his hand trailed down to hold the back of her neck. This is what she needed. Pleasing her daddy and making him proud and if she needed to be on her knees for him, then so be it. Her eyes strained to look up into his darkened seas of blue, old tears mingling with pleasured ones on her lashes. She could feel his cock bounce in her warm mouth, making her moan lowly in happiness.

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If you want to be added/removed lemme know! Feedback is always welcomed, love you lots and be nice to yourself my bbies ;))

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {22}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Two weeks after Nesta was discharged from the hospital, Cassian found himself waking up to the sun peeking through the master bedroom of the main house, the scent of bacon filling the air. After blinking a few times to clear his vision, he propped himself up on his elbows to find the other side of the king-sized bed empty, as well as the little bassinet he made that sat on the floor. With a fond shake of his head, his loose hair swinging in all different directions, he put his feet onto the hardwood floor and began his trek through the house. 

He followed the delicious smell into the kitchen, where Sloan was laying in a bouncy seat, calm and happy as could be, only a few feet away from where Nesta stood in front of the stove.

“You should’ve woken me up,” Cassian mumbled, walking up behind Nesta and pressing a soft kiss to her neck before wrapping his arms around her waist. “We talked about you taking it easy for a few weeks.”

She leaned back into his body with a small smile. “It’s been a few weeks. I need to cook. And I need to eat something other than your delicious spaghetti and sandwiches.” 

She turned around to meet him with a kiss on the lips before he said, “Hey, my spaghetti and sandwiches are delicious.” 

Nesta just snorted and pushed against his chest, then Cassian was down on his knees on the hard floor to peek down at his baby girl. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Her dark-blue eyes were wide as she looked up at her daddy but then they roamed around the room again. In the past two weeks, Sloan had been a fairly quiet baby. She loved to look around at her surroundings, to stare up at faces, especially their family, and each time she saw something new, her eyes lit up.

Cassian leaned in and looked closely at her. With a raised eyebrow, he said, “Ooh, Nes, it looks like her eyes are changing.”

Nesta didn’t look away from the skillet. “I’m aware. I carried her for nine months, I went through literal hell and back and gave birth to her squatting over a towel, with no drugs, just for her to come out and look just like you.”

The bitterness in her voice was clearly sarcastic, and Cassian chuckled. “Her eyes could change for up to six months. She could end up with Uncle Rhysie’s eyes for all we know.”

“If that happened, I’m sure you’d have questions,” Nesta mumbled, and Cassian’s grin widened as he unbuckled Sloan from the bouncy seat and slipped her out, cradling her in his arms. 

Nesta watched as he rounded the island and pulled out a kitchen chair. Once he was sitting, his feet propped up on the chair across from him, he got his face close to Sloan’s and whispered, “I love you.”

Sloan’s lips fell open as she looked up with wide eyes at Cassian. For a moment, the kitchen remained silent as the two stared at one another, Nesta staring at them. Since she gave birth, Nesta had been overly emotional - which was to be expected, but it had Cassian tip-toeing around her sensitive feelings. So when he heard her sniffle from her place in front of the stovetop, he tensed, before slowly breaking his gaze with Sloan’s and finding Nesta’s.

“I’m okay,” she said, voice breaking, turning off the burners. “Bacon?”

Cassian chuckled, watching her with soft eyes as she took a piece of crunchy bacon off the plate, already cooled off, next to the stove and took a bite. “I wish you’d come relax, Nes.”

She shook her head, and before Cassian could get up to make himself a plate, she was already walking toward him, a plate in each hand. She set one down in front of him before rounding the table and sitting down across from him, digging into her bacon, eggs, and avocado toast.

“Tell me to relax one more time and see where it gets you,” she said, raising a brow.

Cassian only shook his head while holding Sloan in one arm, and using the other to pick at his plate.

“By the way, everyone’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Nesta continued.

Cassian paused and looked around at the kitchen. It was a disaster, similar to the rest of the house. Balancing a newborn and daily chores wasn’t as easy as they’d been hoping, but they also weren’t expecting Nesta’s recovery to be as intense. Life had thrown them a curveball and they were taking it day by day.

But this house could not be cleaned in a day.

Before Cassian could protest, Nesta said, “Az will be over to help at two-thirty when I start cooking and little miss will hang out with mommy while daddy and Uncle Az clean.” Her sentence started out normal but had descended into baby talk by the end.

“You’re cooking?” Cassian asked, blinking. “For six people? Nesta-.”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” she sang, and when she caught Cassian’s uncertain expression, she sighed. “I’m not going crazy, it’s just a simple meal.”

Cassian continued to stare at her.

“I promise,” she added.

Cassian didn’t like it, but only because it worried him. “Fine, but also promise me that at the first sign of you feeling tired or achy or whatever, you sit and call for me, so I can help.”

“Promise,” she said, although the light in her eyes told him that she would do no such thing.

He narrowed his own eyes at her. “Why are we having dinner here? Can’t we have dinner at Rhys and Feyre’s place? They didn’t just have a baby.”

“Because,” Nesta said, taking Sloan from her daddy. “I want to cook. I miss cooking. I miss my sisters and they want to watch Az and Rhys melt into a puddle when they hold the most perfect baby in existence.”

Cassian chuckled and picked his plate up, practically inhaling the meal. Nesta was heading for the laundry room when she heard him groan. “Okay, you win. Better than my spaghetti and sandwiches, for sure.”

After he finished scooping up the last few crumbs, he was doing the dishes, begging Nesta to rest until Azriel showed up later.

She agreed, but she wasn’t happy about it. She took Sloan to the couch to keep her company while she folded a basket of laundry, then turned on bad reality television, which she quickly fell asleep to.

Cassian snorted when he saw her sprawled out on the couch, snoring quietly.

He scooped a yawning Sloan up and sat with her in the recliner, rocking back and forth until she was also put to sleep by the sounds of shitty reality TV. Meanwhile, Cassian quickly became addicted to the real housewives of something or another.

__

When Nesta’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was how rested she felt. She stretched and snuggled back into her pillows.

Then she realized she was back in her bed.

Nesta sat up, looking around. “Cass?” Their bedroom door was cracked and Beau was laying on the foot of the bed, but Sloan wasn’t in her bassinet. She glanced over at the clock.

Nesta had never gotten out of bed so quickly in her life.

Pulling her mother’s old robe on, she hurried downstairs and-.

She froze halfway down the stairs and called, “Cassian?”

“Kitchen!”

She cautiously walked down the rest of the stairs and around the corner.

Cassian was standing at the island, while Sloan drooled on his chest where she was strapped into the carrier, fast asleep. Nesta looked around the kitchen, turned back to the living room, and looked back at Cassian.

The house was spotless.

He blinked at her surprise. “Your mouth is hanging open. Not very ladylike.”

She was too shocked to respond to his sarcasm. “The house looks amazing.”

He shrugged. “I know how to clean, apparently.”

“Where’s Azriel?”

“Found your ingredients list,” Cassian said, gesturing to the grocery list on the fridge. “I assumed it was for your simple dinner but you were missing a few things, so he ran up to the market a second to get them for you.”

Nestas brows shot up nearly into her hairline. “You let me sleep.”

“Yes,” he continued, popping an apple slice into his mouth. Sloan stirred against his chest, but quickly went limp again, her cheek squished up against his skin, her little lips hanging open. Cassian chuckled. “Oh, by the way, Sloan’s a fan of the carrier.”

“I see that,” Nesta said, still surprised. 

The back door swung open and Azriel stepped in with a paper bag filled with food from the market. He saw Nesta and smiled, softly, before kissing her cheek. “Good morning. Or, afternoon. Whatever. How are you feeling?” After setting the bag on the counter, he walked around the island to peek at his niece, who he kissed on the forehead. 

“What? I don’t get one?” Cassian asked, obviously feeling left out of Azriel’s affections.

He just rolled his eyes as he leaned back against the counter and looked at Nesta.

“Really good, actually,” she said. “Pretty well rested.”

“Good,” he smiled, and Nesta was so damn happy they had someone like Az in their life. He’d been their saving grace in more ways than one over the past year, and she wouldn’t ever be able to thank him enough for loving Elain as completely as he did. “I’ve got to pick a few things up before dinner, shower, shave, all that fun stuff. Is it cool if I…?”

Nesta laughed and said, “Of course, we’ll see you later. Call if you need anything.”

With a nervous smile, he was out the back doorway and Cassian was looking at Nesta with narrowed eyes.

She crossed her arms and asked, “What?”

He took a bite of another apple. “You’re meddling.”

“I’ve never meddled,” she said, simply.

“Liar,” he crooned, starting to bounce as Sloan stirred, once again. “You're- ow! Shit!”

Sloan had her mouth pressed against Cassian’s skin, just above his chest, sucking against it, hoping to find milk and only getting frustrated.

“She’s like a tiny, fucking vacuum, what the hell,” Cassian muttered, pulling her off, only to have her start crying. He took her out of the carrier and gently handed her over to Nesta. 

Nesta cradled her in her arm and unlatched her nursing cami, helping Sloan latch as she said, “Yeah, now you know how my tits feel.”

Cassian crowned, rubbing at the pained spot on his skin. “Your poor nipples.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she laughed quietly, Sloan finally satisfied as her tummy filled with milk. 

Cassian began taking what Azriel had bought out of the bag and pulling it away. “What else needs to be done before your big night of hosting a family dinner?”

Nesta held Sloan close to her as she opened up a cabinet and pulled out a giant skillet. “Well, seeing how you let me sleep in and now it’s getting late….you, my love, are helping me cook. Welcome to the life of a chef's assistant. You’re my sous-chef of the night.” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh….yay…”

She tossed him an apron, which he caught effortlessly and stared at for an extended period of time.

“Shit, you’re serious?” He asked, watching as she retrieved everything she’d need to prep from under counters, out of cabinets, and from the pantry, all with only one arm while Sloan made happy noises as she fed.

“I am.” She set a box of lasagna noodles on the island and grabbed ground beef and Italian sausage from the refrigerator. “Earn your keep, Nazari.”

Cassian learned that when he had the proper instructions, or a cute baby strapped to his chest to entertain him, he really enjoyed cooking. Or it may have been that every time Nesta reached up into a cabinet or bent down to look into the oven, her robe rode up and he got a glimpse of her ass.

He was a little bitter that she wouldn’t let him taste anything, though. Every time he reached for a nibble, his hand got slapped away.

And it smelled so damn good. 

Hours later, Sloan was sleeping soundly in her swing and Cassian was sneaking into the bathroom, the water already running and steamy as Nesta’s shadow moved from behind the curtain. After kicking off his sweatpants, he climbed into the shower behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Her body shook with quiet laughter. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving time,” he mumbled, moving her wet hair aside and pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Imagining all the things i’m gonna do to you when we can have sex again.”

“Ah, my fiancé, father of my child, the romantic,” Nesta crooned, before turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes opened wide. “Speaking of, where is she?” She leaned around him and moved the shower curtain aside, trying to peek out.

“She is safe and sound, sleeping and just generally being all around perfect. And in case she wakes up,” he said, already seeing the question in her eyes. “The baby monitor is by the sink.”

She was looking at him with pursed lips, her head tilting slightly to the left. “And you burped her after I fed her?

He nodded, leaning closer. “Mhmm.”

Nesta was looking up at him, lips parted. “And you checked her diaper?”

“I even changed it,” he breathed, his lips brushing against hers. “Father of the Year, I know.”

She chuckled. “Fuck the six week rule,” she said, her quiet voice full of sarcasm. “I need you right now.”

Regardless of the fact that Nesta was right and they both knew they were still a full month away from sex, Cassian kissed her until she was breathless. Gods, he wanted to touch her breasts, but knew how sore they’d become from Sloan.

After a minute of soft, slow kisses, Nesta pushed Cassian’s back against the cool wall and he pulled his lips from hers. “We can’t, Nes-.”

“They said I can’t. They didn’t say anything about you,” she said with a smirk.

“You need to rest,” he muttered, but then she kissed his chest and cupped his balls, making him forget his protests. 

She sunk down to her knees before him, taking his hardening cock into her hands and pumping, slowly, before sliding her tongue over the tip and taking him wholly into her mouth.

His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against the tiled wall, and he wasn’t even ashamed that he didn’t last long, because the feeling of her mouth sliding over such sensitive skin, of his long fingers tangled into her soaked hair, of the quiet moans that vibrated against his cock, for his pleasure alone, had every bone inside of him completely and utterly on fire.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I’m about to cum.”

His warning was less of a heads up and more of an it’s happening right now thing.

With a groan, he bucked his hips once, and filled her mouth.

She didn’t hesitate, only stayed perfectly still, drinking him in, eyes locked on his, helping him ride it out with a slow, deep bob of her head. 

Cassian’s body relaxed as he ran his hands through his hair, Nesta’s lips trailing kisses up his abdomen, then his neck, and his own lips as he caught his breath. 

“Now bathe,” she whispered, patting his chest. “Everyone arrives in an hour.”

She left with nothing more, but Cassian peeked out of the curtain and watched her dry off before she disappeared into the bedroom.

__

“You love Aunt Feyre the most, don't you? Yes, you do.”

Sloan’s wide-eyed stare roved over Feyre’s face and then around the room.

“I think it’s too early to say who her favorite is,” Elain said, from where she sat on Azriel’s lap. She was just bitter that both times she’d held Sloan tonight, the baby had ended up crying and had to be given to either Cassian or Nesta.

Feyre rolled her eyes, and said, still in a high-pitched, baby-talk voice, “That's bullshit. Yes it is.”

Nesta laughed and shook her head and Elain’s pursed lips. 

Cassian, having taken way too long to get ready and came down dressed five minutes after everyone had gotten there, now swept into the living room holding a plate of appetizers that he’d scolded Nesta for making.

Even though he’d helped her.

Every time she wasn’t taking it easy, she got Cassian’s evil eye.

Except for when she was down on her knees in the shower.

He hadn’t complained then.

“When are you gonna knock Feyre up?” Cassian asked, flicking Rhysand on the back of the head. “Apparently she’s good with babies.”

“It’s a work in progress,” he said with a smirk.

“Rhys!” Elain said, blush high on her cheeks.

He laughed and Feyre chuckled and said, “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Nesta’s eyebrows rose. “You’re trying to have a baby?”

They glanced at one another, softly smiling, and Feyre looked back down at Sloan. Rhys said, “I wouldn’t say we’re trying, it’s more that we’re not not trying.”

“Hell yeah, give Sloan a cousin,” Cassian said, setting the plate down and taking his squirming daughter. He immediately dissolved into baby-talk, which happened every time he held his daughter, something that never failed to make Nesta melt. “Babies are the best. Especially when they’re perfect like you.”

“Stop, or I’m gonna want you to knock me up all over again,” she crooned, leaning over the back of the couch to wrap her arms around his body and kissing the top of his head.

“Don’t tempt me,” he shot back, still in his baby talk voice.

“We’re all sitting right here,” Azriel awkwardly sang, eyeing the new parents.

Nesta laughed, quietly, wandering to an armchair on the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get married first before we think of having more babies. Besides, Sloan was a miracle baby, so who knows  if we’ll even have any more.”

“If we don’t, that’ll be okay, too,” Cassian added, eyes soft.

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed, watching him with their daughter. “It’ll be perfect, either way.”

“Oh my gods,” Elain breathed, fanning her eyes. “Stop or you’ll make me cry. Y’all are so sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet that you’re going to make me puke,” Rhys said, standing. “Let’s eat.”

Nesta just sighed and said “Y’all go sit down, I’ll have it right out.” Nesta knew Cassian would immediately offer to help, so she said, “Rhys, will you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing,” he said, not hesitating as she headed in the direction of the kitchen.

They walked through the door and Rhys took a deep breath. “Cassian told me he helped and I refuse to believe he could make something that smells this good.”

She laughed and said, “He did actually. Though I think he was more of a distraction than Sloan was.” She turned back towards him when she reached the island. “I have an ulterior motive for bringing you in here.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows raised. He warily said, “Okay?”

“When I pull Feyre up to the nursery after dinner, I need you to convince Cass to leave Az and Elain alone together for a few minutes.”

Understanding lit up his face. “For real?”

She nodded, smiling. “For real.”

Rhysand was terrible at keeping secrets. Not because he said a word about it, but because he was practically bouncing in his seat for the entirety of their meal. Feyre kept looking at him, concerned, asking if he was feeling okay. 

Nesta just kept shaking her head, apologizing silently to Azriel that she’d asked Rhysand for the minor part in his grand plan. 

After dinner, where everybody asked for seconds and not a crumb was leftover, their party made their way back into the living room. Wine was provided, and everyone but Nesta, who was breastfeeding, indulged themselves.

Which was ironic, considering Nesta picked out and paid for the fancy variety that lined the coffee table.

Feyre whistled as she popped to top to a sweet red and filled herself a glass. “You really went all out, Nes.”

“I only get the best for my family,” she said, unable to help her gaze slowly trail to Azriel, where he was plopped back on the couch, Elain in his lap, once again.

They talked and laughed and just enjoyed each other’s presence. It had been a long few weeks, understandably so, and the six of them had had so little time all together. “Nesta?”

She looked up from where Sloan was silently staring up at the ceiling in wonder. The baby loved the mobile hanging above her head, but she adored ceiling fans. Cassian was planning to put one in her nursery when he had a spare moment to breathe. Feyre was looking at her with concern on her face. “Are you...okay?”

For a minute, Nesta wasn’t sitting on a comfortable couch, fiancé’s arm around her. No she was in a rigid wooden chair, rope wrapped over and around her. The skin on her wrists was going to be permanently scarred from how hard she’d tried to break free, and that same panicked fear she’d felt filled her veins. Cassian’s arms tightened around her and she didn’t have to look up at him to know he was giving her as much of his strength as he could. Nesta’s eyes flicked back down to Sloan, who was gazing at her now. The love she felt for the sweet baby girl in her arms was overwhelming most days. She didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much. She took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am. I’m just...still processing, I think.” She looked up at Cassian who was looking down at her with the same sad look in his eyes.

“I can imagine,” Elain breathed. 

No one really knew what to say other than what had already been said in the recent weeks. For a moment, they dwelled in a comfortable silence, Cassian drawing small circles with his fingers on her arm. Nesta didn’t know how long it would take to process what had happened to her. She wasn’t sure if she would ever fully process it. What had happened to her had been a nightmare, to say the least, but as she looked back down at Sloan, she realized she would do it all over again if it meant that Sloan was born happy and healthy and safe.

The nightmare she was forced to go through would linger, but it would not ruin the outcome, would not take away from the gift she’d been given.

Her daughter.

Her miracle baby.

Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of Nesta’s head and then took Sloan, who brightened up as soon as she was in her father’s arms.

Elain was tearing up as she watched the precious scene, holding Azriel’s hand on her lap. His eyes flicked to Nesta and she saw the smallest inclination of his head. Nesta said, “Feyre, can I show you something I was thinking of adding to the walls in Sloan’s room?”

“Of course,” Feyre said, grabbing her wine glass and standing.

Elain said, “I wanna see,” and moved to stand, but Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist.

Rhysand asked Cassian, “Did you ever draw up plans for the new stables?”

Cass said, “Oh, shit, yeah, they’re in the kitchen on the island. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“That was weird,” Feyre whispered, as she followed Nesta up the stairs. “Why are-.”

“Hush,” Nesta snapped, quietly, and took Feyre’s hand to make her move quicker, until they disappeared. They didn’t make it to the nursery, though. Behind the wall, they stood, perfectly quiet, and listened. 

__

After everyone left the living room, all at once, Elain’s narrowed gaze slowly turned to Azriel, who was already watching her, adoringly. 

“Is there a reason our entire family just hauled themselves out of here?” Elain whispered, laughing quietly.

Azriel’s scarred fingers brushed her curled hair back behind her ears, and he licked his lips, slowly. ”I wanted a moment alone with you.”

Elain rolled her eyes, fondly. “We live together, Az, we’re always alone.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, eyes bright, “but, this way, everyone will be here to celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” she asked, smile faltering as confused furrowed her brows.

Azriel just nodded, and gently moved her off of his lap before he stood up. Elain’s eyes widened as he got down on one knee in front of her, and took her trembling hands into his.

“Az,” she breathed, tears already forming in her eyes.

He smiled, not a glimmer of nervousness in his hazel eyes, but gods, they were so full of love. “Elain, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you, and I’ll love you until I close my eyes and take my last breath. Everything that our family has gone through has shown me how much you mean to me, how much I don’t want to lose you. So…” He chuckled and pulled a dark blue ring box from the pocket of his jeans. “I guess it’s time for me to make you an honest woman. Elain Archeron, will you marry me?”

Quiet laughter shook her entire body as she sat up straighter, tears flowing down her cheeks, and said, “Of course.” 

He opened the box and she was greeted with a large, pear-shaped diamond seated upon a thin, silver band. With shaky hands, Azriel took it out, and slid it onto her finger. Thanks to Nesta’s nosiness, the ring fit her finger perfectly. 

Once it was secured, Elain practically tackled Azriel to the ground, and when his back was against the rug, her slender body pressed against his, she kissed him, softly, and he knew her tears were only tears of joy, but he reached up to brush them away, nonetheless.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you, too,” she promised. “Oh, Az, I’m so happy. It’s about time you asked.”

Azriel stilled, and blinked, but it only made Elain’s laughter flutter around him, and it was the most beautiful, joyous sound he’d ever heard. 

“Can we come out now?” Feyre called, from where she’d disappeared with Nesta beyond the top of the stairs. 

Elain laughed. “You knew?”

Feyre was down the stairs nearly before Elain had time to blink and she embraced her sister. “No, you know I would have told you. I wouldn’t have been able to keep it from you.”

Elain leaned back, looking from Feyre to Az. “Then who-?”

Nesta was just stepping back through the living room doorway when Elain breathed, “Nes, you did all this? For me?”

“For both of you,” she corrected, and just as she was about to say something sweet, Cassian was storming in from the kitchen, staring at Azriel with narrowed eyes.

“You didn’t tell me?”

Azriel just shook his head from where he still sat on the carpet, leaning back on his hands. “Cass, I love you, but you can’t keep a secret.”

“I can too,” he said, then looked to Nesta for confirmation.

“Yeah, no,” she began, hesitantly, making Rhysand laugh from behind him. “You can’t keep a secret.” 

Then, Cassian’s eyes widened. “Fuck, you kept it a secret from me, too. That’s double betrayal. How rude.”

Nesta whispered something into his ear that had his disgruntled look turning into a wide, sly grin. “Fair enough. I’m holding you up to that promise, though.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, I know.” When she looked back to Elain, she was looking at all of them, taking all of them in, taking in this moment, this milestone, surrounded by her family. 

__

Nesta held the baby monitor close to her body as she sat by Cassian on the couch, bundled up beneath a blanket as a fire roared from inside the fireplace, a movie on the television. Rhysand and Feyre were bundled up on the floor, the latter having far too many glasses of wine and nearly about to fall asleep on her husband’s chest. 

Elain and Azriel were in heaven, staring deeply into each other’s eyes as they cuddled together in the lazyboy. 

When Nesta looked up at Cassian, he was already watching her, fondly. He gently took the baby monitor from her hand and turned it all the way up before putting it on the table beside him and pulling Nesta into his lap. He rubbed her back, softly, as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“You look happy,” Cassian whispered.

Nesta wanted to laugh. It was such a simple, unprofound statement, and yet it was so true that it made her heart ache. 

Yes, she was happy.

A little lost, a little paranoid, but those were just thoughts in the back of her mind that she prayed would fade with time. 

She couldn’t deny her happiness, though, the wholeness that she had found in this little town that she wanted so desperately to get away from all those years ago. She had lived her dream, had toured the world and cooked for the rich and famous. She had owned her own restaurants, had been wildly successful for such a young woman.

But she had never been happy.

Here, though? With her sisters, with Cassian, with Sloan...she was so fucking happy.

A soft little whine came through the baby monitor, and Nesta’s body instantly tensed. 

“It’s okay,” Cassian breathed. “I’ll get her.”

After kissing Nesta on the forehead, he was heading up the stairs, and although Nesta tried not to, she followed him soon after. As she rounded the top of the stairs and made her way down the hall, she could hear Cassian’s soft, soothing voice comforting their newborn. And when she stopped at the nursery and leaned against the threshold, she found herself tearing up. 

Cassian was such a natural.

He held her close to his chest, bouncing her, patting her back gently until her cries subsided and her eyelids fell shut, once again. 

“Just needed her daddy?” Nesta whispered, wiping at her face.

Cassian looked over his shoulder at his fiancée and chuckled. “Maybe so. Maybe she just needs a bedtime story.”

“A bedtime story?” Nesta repeated. “And what will be her bedtime story tonight?”

“Hmm,” Cassian began, walking in small, slow circles around the rug with his baby girl. “She really likes the one about the handsome ranch hand and the stuck up city girl who thinks she’s hot shit.”

Nesta had to cover her mouth from laughing so it wouldn’t wake Sloan. “Wow, sounds a little intense for a newborn.”

“She gets the abridged version,” he said with a smile.

Nesta couldn’t help herself as she stepped further into the room, smoothing the dark hair back off Sloan’s forehead. She loved the moments like this, when she was able to stop and appreciate her daughter’s beauty, Cassian’s love, the outpouring of support from her sisters.

He reached out with his free hand and brushed away the tears that had fallen down Nesta’s cheeks. He didn’t say anything, just smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. After swaddling Sloan back into her blanket, Cassian turned, wrapping his arms around Nesta and kissed her gently.

Her eyes were closed, but she sniffled, resting her forehead against his chest. “Thank you,” she breathed.

His arms tightened and he chuckled. He asked quietly, “For what?”

“For giving me the life I never let myself dream of.”

Cassian took her face into his hands and leaned back, only to press his lips against hers, softly. “Get used to this life, cause this is what the rest of your life is going to look like, Nesta Archeron.”

“Good,” she breathed, unable to help the smile that graced her lips. “Although, you’ll have to get used to calling me Nesta Nazari, soon.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Does this mean the wedding planning is starting?”

“Yes,” she said, leaning up on her toes to kiss him, gently. 

“Good,” he said, repeating her statement.

They stayed like that for a long moment, as the night went on, in each other’s arms, saying nothing but breathing in every second. Sloan was sound asleep in her crib beside them, their family was downstairs, and Nesta and Cassian had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

Nesta meant what she said. 

Cassian had given her a life she’d never dreamt of.

This wonderful, beautiful life that she was pretty sure she didn’t deserve, but never wanted to be without.

For the first time in her life, Nesta Archeron was perfectly happy with the life she was living, and she never wanted anything more.