#he was prepared to bury his child from the moment she was born guys

[scalpelandrose]

Affirming a Little Miracle

A/N: Whenever health is at a low, my inner Victorian writing motivation comes out 😂 I thought to finish this piece I started at the dentist's yesterday, as I was feeling a little sentimental about the period where Ross was born in my self-ship story. Oh! and an advance thank you to those who read this! ❤️🌹

WC: 1,408 Warnings: Baby, children, mentions of pregnancy/postpartum

Phytoplankton make the twinkling twilight that trickled into the Polar Tang’s portholes, in place of holiday lights that many enjoyed ashore. New Years was a few days away and a good number of Hearts opted to stay up into the late hours preparing for celebrations and brainstorming resolutions that may or may not be successfully fulfilled. However, they were mindful to keep the clamor and ruckus to a minimum, knowing that their captain and strategist were resting from another day of caring for their week-old infant.

“Ross grabbed my finger today. I think that means I’m his favorite uncle!” Shachi proudly declared, unaware that the smug sparkles surrounding him were visible to the crewmates.

Ikkaku lightly scoffed, “You kept poking his cheek, so that was probably his way of telling his ‘favorite uncle’ to stop bothering him.”

“Hey, now listen here—”

“Didn’t Ross immediately let go after seeing Captain enter the room and started fussing to be picked up? It’s like he wanted his dad to get away,” Penguin snickered.

“Not you too…” Shachi scowled, before Bepo brought a finger to his lips in a chiding gesture.

“Shhhh! You’ll wake them, guys!”

Unbeknownst to them, their captain was well awake in his quarters, but for a different reason.

An urge akin to a child needing to go back into the cookie jar for seconds, roused Law from sleep to look at his new baby. A smile crosses the surgeon’s features beholding his newborn son sleeping soundly in the little bassinet saturated in pure undisturbed innocence. Law quietly gasped and the world stood still when the babe cooed from the depths of bonny dreams his mother weaved for him. Nothing was sufficient to describe the overwhelming love washing over him in continuous waves looking at his small son, and in that moment, he thought of Cora-san and wondered if this feeling was the ‘love,’ that drove him to save Law as a child years ago, despite all odds. It must surely have been that same feeling, if not further amplified, because when he reached down to wipe a little drool from the corner of his son’s mouth and looked at the woman who began shifting in their bed at the absence of his warmth, he knew that he’d give anything and everything to protect what he had. 

“Mein schatz…are you having trouble sleeping?” Michelle groggily props herself on her elbows. Her expression changed from concern to delight, seeing Law kneeling beside Ross, like a sentinel…or a father who couldn’t get enough of his child. 

“No, not at all,” he whispers, returning to their bed with a kiss to the heart of her palm, “It might sound crazy, but I was making sure this family…our family wasn’t just a dream.”

A content sigh escapes Michelle, accompanying her fingers that tenderly traced her husband’s features in the darkness. “Only the mad can make miracles happen…and we’re both a little on that scale,” she laughs in quiet confidence as to not wake their baby, “I can confirm as the Dream Reaver that this isn’t a dream and that Ross’ cuteness isn’t either.” 

Busted. But maybe it wasn’t a surprise, since the couple spent the past week doting on their newborn and using any opportunity to get a glance of Ross and his chubby alabaster cheeks. The baby took after his father in terms of looks, save for the beauty mark under his left eye, but the spirit of wonder that colored his eyes whenever he’d glance around the world in piqued curiosity was characteristic of his mother.

“Good to have your confirmation,” Law lightly grins, settling himself under the blankets to wrap his arms around his wife from behind, “Funny that the Dream Reaver stole a dream I buried deep inside of me and yanked it into reality.”

“I don’t only look into dreams to conjure nightmares, you know. Remember, you gave me permission to explore your mind, so it wasn’t a violent yank,” she hums, causing him to bury his face into her shoulder to contain a laughter welling in his chest.

“How could I forget?” Law remarks in bemused sarcasm, before pondering a question he had for some time, “Did you anticipate being the one to bring what you saw in me into reality?”

The investigator opened her mouth, then closed it, wishing to find the right words and mode of expression to her husband’s question. She looked into an undefined indigo space, softly smiling when she heard her son yawn, before her feelings put themselves in line for her to express.

“At first…I observed people’s dreams strictly as a watcher. I never thought that I’d directly play a part in being someone’s dream. Until I grew close to you,” Michelle whispers with vulnerable honesty, reflecting Law in her eyes, “Before I knew it, despite trying to not to get my hopes up, I wanted to be a part of your life and I will always be thankful that you let me in.”

The luminescence of the deep outside the submarine intensified in both variety and color, being further submerged, but the couple could only focus on how the gentle light illuminated their slumbering baby.

“I should be telling you that, Mi Xao…for trusting me and loving me for us to get to this point,” the surgeon murmurs, entwining their fingers together that laid outstretched towards the bassinet. Faint music, most likely from the crew experimenting with a playlist for New Years, began reaching their room and something about the peaceful stillness made Law beckon Michelle to turn her head to face him, so he could kiss her. It was gentle and it was tender, as if whatever gratitude they could not express was dropped in every peck and cherished caress.

“Law…you are going to make me selfish for you, if you keep spoiling me like this throughout my postpartum stages. I want to set a good example for our baby,” Michelle jokes in between meeting her lips with his. 

Law only sighed and continued his affectionate assault on his wife’s lips, before moving his barrages around her face, “It’s my recommendation, as your doctor, that you spend as much time with me as possible, so you can fully recover. You don’t have to feel guilty about being selfish, anyways. I’d rather you be more selfish when it comes to us, because I won’t let you or Ross go for anything. It’s always been you and has to be you.”

A long breath escapes Michelle, as the cathartic joy of her husband’s words and caresses penetrated and warmed her heart. Turning in Law’s embrace so she could face him, the investigator wrapped her slender arms around his neck and whispered a piece of her wedding vows into his ear, “It will never be anyone else, but you, that I entrust my life and heart to,” which instinctively moved him strengthened his grip on her hand. 

Somewhere between touches of affirmation and whispered conversations, the pair fell asleep again, until Ross began to fuss a little before dawn, feeling quite hungry for his mother’s milk, which Michelle was more than glad to oblige, despite a little grogginess. Thankfully, Law made sure to prepare their room with baby items and have a towel on hand, so after Ross finished feeding, he immediately picked the infant up to burp him, so he wouldn’t have any pain or discomfort in his stomach later on.

Michelle giggled hearing the little ‘urp,’ from her son and remarked to Law that it seemed that Ross didn’t so far adopt her old habit of throwing up while being burped, which made her husband sigh in relief, but told her not to jinx it.

Ross seemed to still be awake after feeding with a wish to cuddle with his parents, so Law and Michelle opted to have him lay with them, atop of his mother, with his father’s protective hand on the small of his back. 

“We make a good team don’t we?” the investigator smiled at her husband.

“We always have,” the surgeon grinned, with a peck to her nose.

Ross seemed to affirm that assertion with a little gurgle of his own, causing his parents to almost break from the sheer adorableness. So long as he was a content baby, he’d continue to agree with his parents, and fortunately, Law and Michelle did everything in their power to make sure that he was well taken care of.

-

Tagging: @jazminetoad, @fireflykaizoku, @conchasweetheart, @undercoverweeeb ����

[jew-flexive]

frederick chase, legacy

thinking about frederick chase, who grew up in a family that knew about all the things everyone else couldn’t see, not because those things touched them, but because they used to. thinking about frederick chase, who’s a little too strong, sometimes, who’s a little too quick, sometimes, who has a strange aura of power that he didn’t earn but his great-great-great-grandfather did. thinking about frederick chase, who wants to be normal, who is almost normal, who is almost able to ignore the things that have too many eyes and razor sharp teeth and kill children in alleyways--but not him, never him, he doesn’t show up on their radar, not anymore. thinking about frederick chase, who is dizzingly, maddeningly grateful for his own cosmic insignificance because he knows what happens to heroes. 

thinking about frederick chase, nerdy and goofy and gangly and too smart for his own good, but more or less a normal guy once he moves out of his parents’ house. thinking about frederick chase, who graduates summa cum laude studying heroics of the human kind and gets his pick of grad schools and flirts with another TA at three am while they both pretend to grade papers and ignore their research. thinking about frederick chase, who falls in love with gray eyes and sly grins and stubborn pride and shows that by arguing and teasing and fiddling with his glasses and showing off, just a little, just to make her laugh.

thinking about frederick chase, who takes her home to meet his family, only for his sister to gasp and his father to drop his wine glass and his mother to bite her lip and his brother to watch with wide, jealous eyes. thinking about frederick chase, whose blood is almost all red, whose life is almost all safe, whose legacy is almost all forgotten, it’s been so long, who’d almost escaped completely, whose feelings of betrayal are sharp, vicious things. thinking about frederick chase, confronting a goddess, terror and anger making his voice shake, and what that must have looked like, a mortal lecturing the divine, how that must have made athena wonder and plot and plan. 

thinking about frederick chase, who wakes up exactly one year before he has to present his dissertation to a baby on his doorstep with his hair and her eyes who he knows just by looking at her is doomed, doomed, doomed. thinking about frederick chase, who lives off of coffee and ramen and hasn’t showered in a week and still isn’t even twenty-eight, who never wanted any of this, who was never asked if he did, who feels violated and alone and afraid. thinking about frederick chase, who tries to give the baby back because he knows what happens to kids in alleyways when the monsters (or the gods) are hungry and knows he’s not enough to protect her, who’s told he has no choice but to try. 

thinking about frederick chase, who keeps his daughter because none of this is her fault and gods forbid athena take any responsibility for the life she created without his consent, who names her annabeth for favor and oathkeeping and grace, who raises her the best he can even though he’s convinced he’ll outlive her, his clever little miracle child who represents every single one of his parents’ warnings and all the ambitions his brother’s ever sought. thinking about frederick chase, who reads to her and braids her hair and puts her in a playpen with a box of legos while he teaches his classes and comes back to find her building temples and shrines and skyscrapers with her chubby toddler hands. thinking about frederick chase, who knows his daughter is smarter and more powerful than him, who knows exactly what all that wit and strength is meant to protect her from and how little either will matter, in the end. 

thinking about frederick chase, who has every member of his family stolen from him before annabeth steals herself away. thinking about frederick chase, who never once blames her for it, who wants her safe, even if it that means being far, far away from him. thinking about frederick chase, who messes up and says the wrong thing and forgets, sometimes, that for all her cleverness, his daughter isn’t a mind reader and needs to be told that she is precious, that she is cherished, that she is everything he’s ever been afraid to lose. thinking about frederick chase, who doesn’t know how to raise a demigod, only how to mourn one, so he fails, and fails, and fails, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how deeply he loves.  

thinking about frederick chase, who, when given the chance, shows his adoration by brainstorming new building ideas and telling old college stories and making midnight breakfasts and shooting at titans with celestial bronze bullets. thinking about frederick chase, who grows and shifts and tries to see his daughter in real time, not only in those last moments he knows are coming, when she’s that kid in the alleyway and he’s not enough, never enough to stop the monsters from coming for her. thinking about frederick chase, who never once makes his peace with it, but works for the rest of his life to earn his own peace with her.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Nine

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence, 

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Another chapter is finished!! I’ve got an idea but it’s SO DANGEROUS AND Y’ALL MIGHT HATE ME IF I DO IT BUT ITS SO TEMPTING AND I THINK I’M GONNA DO IT ahem anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/n 2: I’m posting this before work so I’ll reply to asks and comments when I get home tonight! Also, I’ve got the next part of Gangsta written up if y’all want that.... hehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How have you been adjusting to this new home?” Thor asks one morning, a smile on his face. You grin back at him, the weight of Acadia lifted off your shoulders as you take a sip of your tea.

“Quite well. Although Loki has been an interesting addition.” The raven-haired man looks up from his book momentarily and gives you a look, to which you only smile.

From the moment you entered the cottage you knew it would be good for you to stay here.

“Well, we are at your disposal. I will have to go back to Asgard within the weeks to come, but Loki and the Valkyrie shall remain here should you need or want them.” You nod gratefully, looking out the window and pursing your lips as you watch the women spar outside.

“What? What is it?” Thor asks, following your gaze.

“I want to learn to defend myself. To wield a sword and fight off an attacker.” Loki scoffs from where he sits, his nose still buried deep in his book.

“For what reason should a queen wish to learn to fight? You will always have men for that.” Your defence is up in an instant, and you clench your jaw before composing yourself enough to reply.

“I do think that considering both my upbringing and the way I have been treated in my new kingdom, I have every right to want to learn to defend myself. I have many reasons to want to defend myself, none of which concern you, however, if you had the slightest idea of all that I have endured in my short time as queen you would not question me wanting to learn to defend myself. I have been shunned from my palace because my husbands fear someone will kill me. My own husbands have brought me far more pain than I would like to admit. I have every right to wish to learn how to defend myself and I will not hear a word from you about the subject!”

His brows raise to nearly his hairline and he looks between you and his brother before burying his nose back in his book, which elicits a chuckle from the blond king.

“If the situation is so severe that I need be sent away for my own safety, I need to learn to defend myself.”

Thor nods, a strong hand patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“I knew there was a fire in you. I could see it in those eyes when you spoke of running from the Kings. I just needed to find it.” He rises to his feet and straightens his clothing. “Loki does have a special talent for pulling the fire from even the most docile creatures. But I will go speak with the valkyrie. They will be delighted to have a student to train.”

He leaves the cottage to interrupt the sparring outside, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the first piece of control that you will have over your life.

~*~

“If that will be all, You are dismissed,” King Steven says, his voice low and exhausted. The royal adviser bows then heads to the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I cannot help but notice the absence of the Queen. Where has she gone?” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten the question in the week that you've been gone, therefore they already have their excuse rehearsed and perfected.

“We simply have no use for her. If she cannot even bear our children then what use is she to us?” Comes Steve’s practiced response.

“We were instructed to find a queen who could produce strong heirs. Our wife cannot. So she is no longer of use to us,” James adds, his voice dripping in boredom as he looks over a document on his desk.

The royal advisor nods then excuses himself, bustling to his own office with newfound haste and purpose.

“It’s been a week and we are no closer to finding who it is than we were when she was here,” Steve murmurs after a long moment of silence, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their decision.

“I’m beginning to question whether it was a good decision to send her along with Thor. Especially after he threatened to make her a queen of his own. What if she were to agree?” James stands up and walks over to his husband, taking his shaking hands in his own and sighing.

“I would not blame her if she were to agree. We have treated her like a prisoner. I have... brutalized her and beaten her and I will never be able to repent. If she were to want him I would in no way blame her. He has provided her with a safe haven. She can confide in him and trust him in a way that she may not be able to again with us.” Steve sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We need to find who it is that has caused this and we need to make them pay.” James nods, smoothing his thumbs over the back of his husband’s hands.

“We will. But until we do, we must remain strong. The Doctor is recovering and when he is fully recovered we will ask him who it was that attacked him. We will find who is behind this, but we must be patient.”

~*~

“Again!” You raise your sword just in time to block a blow from one of the Valkyrie, grinding your teeth together as you push her back a step then swipe your own sword at her throat.

She hops backward, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You are learning, Your Majesty. But you still hold back. Why? You cannot be afraid to hurt us,” The Captain says, walking forward and looking at you closely.

“You must show no mercy. Not when you must choose between your own life and the life of someone who means to do you harm. You will fight and you will fight to the death.”

Your entire body is burning with the exertion but you hold your ground, raising your sword and ready to go again.

“That’s what I like to see! Now, we go again!” Brunnhild exclaims, a grin on her face as she takes her fighting stance.

It’s just over two weeks since you began your training and everyone is surprised at how quickly you’re picking up on what’s being taught, but none more than you.

You’re just stepping out of the bath, muscles aching with a new type of strength that the Valkyrie have been beating into you, when your eyes catch a glimpse of movement at the window to your bedroom. A figure clad in all black is moving swiftly away from the cottage and disappearing into the darkness of woods, the setting sun aiding in the camouflage of the person.

Thinking that it’s none other than Loki going to wreak havoc on some poor defenceless wanderers, you don’t question it. Instead, you get dressed into a soft Asgardian gown and start preparing yourself for bed.

You’re just about ready to settle down with a book when a flash of white catches your eye from the window. You hesitantly investigate, heart hammering in your chest as you see a letter tucked securely in the window.

You open it and snatch the envelope before it can be taken by the wind, then shut the window again.

The seal on the envelope is that of Acadia, and your heart is in your throat as you realize that this could very well be a letter from the Kings. You’ve no idea what it may say, and cannot decide if you are more nervous or excited as you open it.

The script is not one you recognize, but your eyes greedily devour every word, the smile fading from your face at what lies on the page in your hand.

Thor finds you sometime later seated on the floor, the letter gripped tightly in your hands and your eyes focused on a point on the wall.

“(Y/n?” He asks softly, knocking against the doorframe to try and get your attention. You make no indication that you’ve heard him.

He enters the room, brows furrowed as he sees what you’re holding. “What is that? What does it say? Is it from the Kings?”

It takes a very long moment, but eventually, you find the strength to speak. But even then your voice is a weak rasp.

“Did you know the truth? Did you hide it from me as well?” Thor is beyond confused as he approaches you, taking the page from you and reading through the contents quickly.

‘Your Majesty,

Do not ask who I am nor how I know where you are, just know that you need be more careful who it is you call your lovers. They have sent you away, not for your own protection but because you failed at the task they wanted you for. They have sent you away because you failed to bear their children, this I promise I have heard with my own ears. I know not what they have told you but it is what I have witnessed. They have said this directly and I have heard it with my very own ears. You would do well to stay away from them, for they are dangerous. But I am certain that you and your late child are more than aware of that.

Consider this a warning, your majesty, for I know you are unsafe. You must take care and be far more careful of who you allow in your court.’

“Loki!” The prince is in the room within the same moment, his eyes full of confusion.

“Have the Valkyrie secure the area and find me the man who sent this! Travel to Acadia and alert the Kings. The Queen is no longer safe here.”

You’re confused. If the kings have directly told someone this, why then is Thor responding in such a way?

Loki is on horseback heading towards Acadia only moments later, and Thor is leaving the room as soon as the Valkyrie enter.

Brunnhild crouches next to you, a frown on her face as she glances at the note on the floor, its words echoing in your ears.

“Do not allow this to scare you, Your majesty. Do not give them the satisfaction of that.” You scoff and shake your head at her, “it is far easier said than done. All my life I have been punished for ever speaking, much less standing my ground. I have perfected the art of cowering, for men wish to do nothing but hurt and maim all so they can gain power.”

She sits down and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You forget that we are all brought into this world through blood and through pain, your Majesty. We are the daughters of savage women. We are their savage daughters and we will act like it. We will bite and scream and we will take up space. We will not conform to their ideas of what women should be.” Her words are whispered into the still air of the room as if she were hiding them from any listening ears.

“Do not lower your voice for any man. Do not cower beneath them. You are a powerful being. One that can create life and you can also take it away, never forget that.” She pulls a dagger off of her belt and hands it to you, curling your fingers around the hilt before she continues speaking.

“You have the blood of goddesses and witches flowing through your veins. You hold a power that men could never understand. With every step we take, every time we refuse to cower... we honour our mothers, our grandmothers, and the ones before them. The ones who stood and fought and were torn to pieces. We will not be silenced. You will not be silenced. You are more powerful than that. You must remember your strength and your power. Do not let the men convince you that you are anything less than what you are.”

Your eyes sting and your throat gets tight, but she only hugs your shoulders and continues speaking.

“Your power is what scares them. Why else would they try to assert their dominance in such a way? But you will not fall. You will not allow them to treat you like that because you are the daughter of a savage. You are yourself a savage woman and you will act like it. Royal title be damned.”

You sniffle once, twice, three times, then nod, wiping your eyes just as Thor re-enters the room.

The Valkyrie take their leave and the King sighs, crouching down next to you and gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m so very sorry, Petal. You are no longer safe here. If someone was able to bring you this letter then I fear you are in far more danger than we had thought. The conspiracy against the Kings runs far deeper than any of us could have anticipated, and if we are to keep you safe then we must act quickly.” He pulls you to your feet and bustles around quickly, covering your shoulders in a thick cloak and packing a bag of your belongings.

“Wait, where do you mean to take me? If I am not safe anywhere?”

He tosses your bag over his shoulder and grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“The only place you will truly be safe.” You’re still quite confused.

“We make for Asgard.”

[justcourttee]

New idea!!! Could you write a story where Mari and Tim are full-blooded siblings except Mari was taken away from the Drakes. Mari would be Dick's age in this. The Drake's finally pass away so Bruce goes to adopt Tim but he's having trouble because Marinette is doing the same. It's a custody battle. Tim is confused because he doesn't know Mari (she was taken away before she was born and CPS wasn't dealing with that family again) but Mari knows about him. Maybe Dick/Mari?

I have a feeling I took this in a different direction than you meant for it to be, but I hope you still like it :) @elements1999

Tim’s Decision

There were two things that Timothy Jackson Drake was sure of.

One, that he had never seen Dick so flustered before in his life. The poor guy was tripping over his own feet, stumbling into the court hallway as if he had been drinking all morning, his face resembling something close to the apple Bruce forced him to eat for breakfast.

And the second, well, he was sure he had never met someone as persistently, annoyingly, upbeat as Dick Grayson until seconds ago when she reached out her hand to introduce herself.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Timothy. This isn’t my first time reaching out, but it certainly is my first time getting through. Maybe after this, we can grab a bite to eat, get to know each other?”

Tim slightly withdrew his hand, reaching out to steady a swaying Dick. He wanted to ask him what could’ve warranted this behavior from him, but he wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear the answer.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng-”

“Please, call me Marinette! I’m not married, nor am I a middle-aged woman. I’m only 21 after all. You’re 14, right Timothy?”

“If I call you by your name, call me Tim. Timothy sounds like a rich brat.”

Marinette’s giggle earned a small smile from the boy. He had no idea who she was, but her presence was soothing and he didn’t feel any immediate danger. Besides, she wasn’t the first person to approach him in the past week. News of his parent’s death traveled very quickly and many people attempted to adopt him in hopes that his fortune would be theirs.

Bruce was quick to wave them off, offering to adopt Tim himself, but before Tim could even think about accepting, CPS contacted Bruce with the proposal from one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I hadn’t realized that Bruce Wayne had caught your attention. I really want to make sure that you are able to have a regular childhood or at least some resemblance of a few normal years. If you think Bruce is a better option for you, I promise I’ll pull out right now, but if you have any doubts at all, I want to let you know that I want to fight for you, Tim.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet and considering Bruce let me meet with you, I have to assume you’re not after my parent’s fortune.”

Marinette’s smile tightened at the mention of the fortune or was it his parents? He couldn’t tell. She was definitely holding something back, but they had just met and he wasn’t in any position to be pressuring her for some answers. What he was in the position to do was knock some sense into a now drooling Dick Grayson.

“Knock it off will you, you’re heavy and gross. You’re making a fool of the Wayne name and aren’t you supposed to be my guardian today?”

Dick muttered out something that sounded like an okay, but if Tim was honest, he wasn’t sure it was anything more than a few syllables to lower his guard.

“This is what Bruce considers a capable guardian? I’m not sure I trust him as far as I could throw him. What can it do?”

Marinette reached forward, poking Dick’s cheek, enough force to snap him out of whatever daze he had been in the past hour.

“Dick Grayson-Wayne ma’am, a pleasure to meet you.” Instantly he bowed, his hand extended as if he were waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

“Mhmm, so you are Bruce’s ward? You look like you could be his blood child. Does he have a thing for dark hair and light eyes? Creepy.”

Dick’s hand clutched his chest as if he had been struck directly in his core. Marinette turned her attention from him and back to where Tim stood.

“Anyways, I believe we mentioned lunch earlier. I’ve already submitted my application to CPS and after this formal meeting, you’re free to meet up with me whenever you would like as long as a third party comes with us. Can you think of anyone you want to come with us?”

Tim glanced to the side where he could feel Dick’s puppy eyes boring into him. He wouldn’t be his first choice but if it came down to him of Jaime, he was pretty sure he had a better chance of reigning in Dick.

“Do you mind if Dick comes with us?”

Marinette’s smile was shaken with uncertainty as if she was thinking of protesting but didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Tim felt terrible putting her in the position but he was sure that Dick was her best chance given his options. “Of course not, where would you like to go?”

The lunch moved smoothly with Tim learning so much about her. She was originally from the Gotham foster system herself, but a young couple who couldn’t have kids adopted her at a younger age, moving her to Paris with them. She attended the equivalent of middle and high school over there where she met many lifelong friends. Starting late in her middle school years, she upstarted a fashion business where she had several big-name clients months into her start-up. Now she made personal designs, but many were taken care of by her team. She only stitched a very few commissions for close personal friends.

She was remarkable, someone who truly started from nothing. His parents did something similar as did Bruce’s. It was something he wanted for himself, something he wasn’t sure he could ever achieve with either his or Bruce’s fortune.

The custody battle was put on hold at Tim’s request. He was really intrigued by Marinette and Bruce pressuring him to take his time and really think over his choices finally led him to that decision. However, no matter how much Bruce tried to be a neutral party in the matter, Tim could feel the strain it put on their work relationship.

The more he saw Marinette, the more mess-ups occurred on patrol. Bruce would constantly tread into Tim’s area, always dropping in on his battles. It was as if he lost all trust in Tim as if he was trying to rely less on him, trying to go back to doing things on his own.

It was so frustrating. No matter how many times he told Bruce that he could still be Robin no matter who he chose, it seemed to mean nothing to him. He continually waved him off, claiming to have no idea what he was talking about.

A month after he met Marinette, Tim snuck out for the first time, begging her to meet him at a coffee shop near her hotel.

“Tim, this is dangerous. If CPS finds out we meet behind Bruce’s back, it could nullify my application.”

“I know, I know.” His head dropped to the table, buried in his arms trying to suffocate his frustration. “I just needed to get away from all of them. I think the fact that I consider you a serious option really upsets Bruce. It’s not that I don’t consider him a serious option as well, it’s just-he’s just-”

Tim let out a sigh, slowly sitting back up unsure where his thoughts were taking him.

“Tim,” Marinette reached across the table, laying her hand on his arm. “if this is too stressful for you, I can pull out of this.”

Her touch was so gentle, so soothing. It felt like the mother he never had, the kind of mother he yearned for but never realized. He really didn’t want her to leave his life just because he couldn’t give up being Robin.

“I just feel so selfish,” his vision started to blur, Marinette’s figure coming in and out of focus. “I want to keep the life I’ve made for myself here, but I also don’t feel like I can grow the way I want to under Bruce’s supervision.”

Marinette didn’t say anything for a moment, she just allowed him to cry, her thumb moving in small circles on his arm. Tim reveled in the feeling, reveled in the silence. He hadn’t had this in a while, he hadn’t had comfort for as long as he could remember. Even at his parent’s funeral, people just commented on how strong he was and how smart he was and told him he would be just fine. Not once did anyone try to hug him or ask if he was okay. They just assumed.

Everyone always just assumed.

“Tim, I haven’t been 100% honest with you since I met you. I didn’t want it to mess with your decision, but I think it’s time you knew.”

“I already know.” Tim moved his arms from her touch, his heart throbbing from the loss of touch. “I did my research on you, especially considering how Bruce let me meet you so quickly. You’ve done a lot of work to bury it, but the Will mentioned you, or at least your old name.”

Marinette’s smile was tight, her eyes as watery as his.

“Is that what’s holding you back from making the decision you want to make?”

Tim wanted to deny that he had no clear choice, but that was a lie he had been feeding himself. He wanted to stay with Bruce, in Gotham. His life was here, his friends were here, his passions were here. The only thing that wasn’t, was her.

“I want Bruce to be my official guardian. I want to be Tim Drake-Wayne.” Marinette nodded, understanding pouring from her and crashing into him. He felt like all the stress from the past month had been pushed out and replaced with relief. “But I really did want to get to know you, I didn’t want to make a decision because you would be out of my life for good. I’ve already lost you once, CPS took you didn’t they?”

“Right before mom became pregnant with you. I’m sure it happened to you too, but I was only six. They left me alone, not even a butler or maid to watch after me. They tried to argue with CPS that I was a competent child who could handle groceries and looking after myself but they didn’t buy it. My existence hadn’t even been released to the public so they didn’t take it too hard, losing me that is. But you, they immediately brought you into the limelight, almost like a challenge to CPS, I’m assuming that’s why they didn’t get involved for you no matter how many times my parent’s called and reported them.”

Tim couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out. It seemed to have shocked Marinette too as she gave way to her own giggle threatening to spill.

“Marinette, can I ask you something selfish?”

“Of course, mon frère.” Her hand reached back across the table, gripping his tightly as if pressing him to ask the question he dreaded most.

“Will you still be apart of my life? I’m not asking you to move to Gotham, but maybe a monthly trip? A weekly dinner? Something? I just don’t want to lose you again.”

The tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally slipped free, her smile blinding.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Bruce, Marinette is coming over for game night tonight!”

“Marinette?” Dick’s head popped around the corner, the red plastered by the mere mention of her name. It sickened Tim. “But I have patrol tonight! Bruce can’t the police do their jobs for one night!”

Bruce chuckled as he set up the table, a stack of every board game imaginable piled in the middle.

“I suppose you can push it back from 11 to 5 to 2 to 5. After all, I’m not heartless.”

Tim let out an involuntary groan as he slipped into the couch, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“Whose side are you on here Bruce? She’s already your honorable daughter. Do you really need her to be part of your legal family that bad?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean.” His smirk only made Tim want to fold in on himself even more.

“Bruce, if you’re gonna set me up, can it at least be with Tim’s more attractive siblings? Like what about that Jason guy? Or Barbara Gordan?” Tim popped up in his seat, a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“Marinette’s here!” He waved her over to the seat beside him before a certain older lovebird could intervene.

“I am attractive! Why won’t you accept me Marinette?” Dick wiped away fake tears as he fell dramatically to the floor by her feet.

Tim could feel his heart overflowing for the first time in years. His life felt so fulfilled, like all of the missing pieces finally found a place. As the night continued on, only one thought stayed prominent in his mind.

He couldn’t be happier with his decision.

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[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

[lexsssu]

𝑊𝑖𝑠ℎ (𝐷𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑖𝑓)

Ao3 ver.

From the moment he could perceive the world around him, Soma knew that life was difficult. Especially the world he had the misfortune to grow up in, because according to his parents the darkness and danger that was commonplace now was something that merely lurked behind the scenes during the time before he was born.

There was still danger no matter what era one is living in, but the era he grew up in is the most dangerous one. Dainsleif, his brooding yet ever thoughtful father said so, having lived for centuries and being witness to many major happenings within their world over the years.

“As long as we have each other...there is no other place I’d rather be,” his mother would always say as she presses her soft lips against the skin of his forehead.

Despite the darkness that had tainted their world, there is still light to be found even if it was only within the farthest corners and the smallest cracks. In his mother’s arms and beneath his father’s gaze, Soma felt the safest and happiest.

But sadly, the Abyss Order was relentless in their pursuit. Years of running and hiding could only keep them safe for so long.

“I’ll hold them off. Take our son and run as far as you can! Forget about me and keep on living! That’s an order!”

Soma’s baby blue eyes were wide as he gazed in horror at the sight of Dainsleif being swarmed by a squadron of Abyss Heralds, the boughkeeper’s figure getting farther and farther as his mother carried him away.

He doesn’t know how long they ran, he doesn’t remember how he even fell asleep. The blonde only remembers waking up on a small cot, lying next to you who looked exhausted and unkempt as you slept. He remembers asking if his father will meet up with you both later, only for you to burst in tears and embrace him tightly.

“Papa...Papa won’t be home for a long time, baby. But...he did his best for the both of us…”

The next several years of Soma’s life consisted of training with the Resistance, aiming to one day topple down the Abyss Order that took Teyvat hostage for several years now. He is filled with not just a thirst for vengeance and righteous fury, but also a sincere wish to end tyranny and prevent the tragedy that befell his family from ever happening to any other hapless child.

On the day of their planned final attack, he stood before you, a young man of eighteen who was the spitting image of your late husband. His body is bent forward so as to more easily reach your height while you placed a familiar dark mask with royal blue accents upon his face.

“He’ll watch over you for me. I know it,” despite the obvious tears that gathered at the corners of your eyes, not a single drop fell as you kissed Soma’s forehead.

“I’ll come back to you, Ma. I promise.” He holds the hands that cradle his face, committing to memory of their warmth and tenderness.

Those words were the last ones he managed to tell you before setting off, ebony cape fluttering as he spun away from you and joined the rest of the warriors that made up the Resistance.

If only he knew that he wouldn’t be able to honor his own words.

The Abyss Order proved too strong and every plan they prepared resulted in failure. Soma knew his time had come as he lay on the cold hard ground, his comrades either dead around him or fruitlessly fighting in a last ditch effort to survive. A glowing hydro blade rested on his neck, ready to end his life at any moment. 

Rather than resist, he opted to accept his death with dignity. The young man stared at his would-be-killer, the frozen Abyss Herald seemingly prolonging his misery as if waiting for him to beg for his life.

“I’m sorry…” An all too familiar voice came from the Herald, one that the youth only remembers in his memories now.

Before he could react, Soma knew nothingness.

══════════════════

“Hey there, little guy. Are you lost?”

Large baby blue eyes blinked as their owner swiveled his head, taking in the sight of the dark sky twinkling with stars and heavenly bodies while a field of glowing dandelions surrounded his tiny body in the open field.

It takes the toddler a second before his eyes meet with yours, making you internally squeal at just how adorable this child looked. Platinum blonde hair, rich blue eyes, and those squishy cheeks just made you want to pinch them for days. You wondered which good-looking parents were blessed with this precious baby…

“Mama!”

“...Eh?”

And that is how you returned to the city with a toddler in tow.

“When did you get hitched? Well, even if it’s late I’d like to congratulate you anyway.”

“He’s not—”

“Mama, eat! Foo’!”

“...I’ll have a bowl of Cream Stew and Fragrant Mashed Potatoes”

“Coming right up! Why don’t you take a seat with the little one while I prepare?”

Still carrying Soma (who happily introduced himself earlier after ‘mistaking’ you for his mother), you try to find an empty table only to find none. You scan the seats to see if any of your friends or acquaintances were there, hoping to borrow a seat at their table.

When your eyes catch sight of a certain brooding blonde gentleman, you make a beeline straight to him.

“Good evening, Master Dainsleif. I’m sorry if I disturbed you, but I wanted to ask if I may perhaps sit with you this fine night? There aren’t any free tables as of now you see...but we’ll definitely vacate your table when a free one becomes available.”

The Bough Keeper lifts his gaze towards you, only to be met with a little face so eerily similar to his own that he has to blink several times to make sure he was seeing right.

“...Very well. If you don’t mind my company, then I suppose you may take a seat here—”

“PAPA!”

The forgotten Soma who had been mostly silent finally spoke up, shouting so excitedly that his voice rang across the tavern and caught the attention of every other customer within the premises.

Beneath all the stares, never did you wish to be swallowed up by the ground more than this very moment. You could only hug the little boy and bury your face in his hair, fervently praying for Barbatos to just make you disappear in a poof of smoke while the little boy in question giggled at the gobsmacked expression on Dainsleif’s face.

[fan4196]

Happiness

Evermore

"- Ok, bye." Alex hangs up his phone after the probably weirdest call he ever had to take. This call makes him feel every kind of emotion mixed together into one big snowball of emotions - joy, happiness, excitement, but also regret, sadness, even anger and shame. Out of all of them shame is probably the strongest - shame that he again is the reason that another person has to suffer. He hates himself for always dragging other people down with him. That he's the reason they go crazy, get cancer, leave him or end up hurt. The last person he dragged down with him was the one person he never ever wanted to entangle into all of his problems, but she turned out to be the only person that was always more than willing to help him through all of his crap and loved him unconditionally with all his flaws.

He keeps looking down on his phone for a few more seconds, before he puts it down on the coffee table and buries his face in his hands.

"Who was that?" Izzie asks as she walks into the living room, a plate in her hand from the snack the twins just had in the kitchen.

"Jo." He answeres quietly, as he looks up again but avoiding Izzies look.

"As in your Ex-wife, Jo?" Izzie askes surprised, fiddling with the plate in her hand.

He nodds before he watches Izzie standing in the door between the kitchen and the living room.

"You should sit down." He suggests quietly, stroking his hand through his hair.

"Ok?!" She walks into the living room and sits down opposite of Alex, waiting for him to start.

"She- she's pregnant." Alex begins, not knowing how to continue, while a million thoughts run through his head.

"Ahm. Ok? Well good for her. That means she moved on rather quickly. That's good, right?" Izzie answeres, pretending to be happy for Alex's ex-wife, even though she has no idea why his ex felt the need to call him and rub this under his nose.

"No, Izzie. It's mine. I'm the father." He explains to the woman on the other side of the coffee table, "She said she had all the symptoms, so she took a test this morning and it was positiv. She also did a blood test at the hospital during her lunch break and it came back positive too. She also saw Doctor DeLuca, the OB/Gyn at Grey-Sloan, when she was done with her shift and had her first ultrasound - she's already thirteen weeks. She said she wasn't sure if she should call me but she wanted me to know - she wanted me to know that she's having my baby. And that it was up me if I want to be in their life or not. She has a whole damn village taking care of her, but she would never keep me away from my kid. She's due at the end of June and if I want to be there she would be ok with it. Her voice was so happy, you should have heard her. I always knew that she would be a great mom. She never believed me considering her past but I knew that her past only made her stronger and prepared her to be the best mom possible for our kids. And her laugh, I missed her laugh-" He stops after the last sentence he said.

He really tries to be as happy as he could for his kids - which he is, he's happy to be in their lives but nevertheless there's something missing. He knows that but he doesn't want to admit it. His kids should be enough to make him completely happy, right? But he's not, not entirely and he hates it. He hates that a piece of his heart is still in Seattle. He feels so selfish for wishing that she was here. That she was here with him. That she could meet his kids and that he could see his kid growing inside of her.

Just the thought of Jo with a cute little bump, that she hides under his shirts lets his heart flutter. Since the day he knew he wanted to spent the rest of his life with her he often found himself day dreaming about their future - about her lying next to him in bed, snuggled into his side while he paints circles on her big baby belly, calming the little one inside of her down so she could sleep after a long day of work. Something he was also almost one hundred percent sure of - that she would work until the day of her due date. He could see himself getting pulled out of a surgery because she went into labor while she was in an OR herself. He had already painted everything out but now everything is different - completely different.

It's silent in the living room. Izzie's not saying a word. Noticeably shocked, not knowing what to say right now.

"Are you sure?" She asks the first thing that comes to her mind.

"What?"

"Are you really sure it's yours?" She clarifies her question, a little annoyed because he wasn't listening.

"Are you serious?" He can't believe that she really asks this right now. "Of course I'm sure. She's thirteen weeks along, I'm here since ten weeks. Even if it wouldn't add up, I believe Jo if she says that I'm the father-"

"What if she's lying? Maybe she's further or fewer along than she says. Maybe she cheated on you and now tries to tell you that it's yours just to get you back into her life. Or she's not pregnant at all. What if this is just a trick to get you back?" Izzie asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Ok stop right there. What the hell, Izzie?" He replies angrily, ruffly pushing himself up from the couch. "I will not listen to all of this crap. What the hell? I will also not accept you talking bad about Jo. Hell no!" He's about to walk out of the living room, not wanting to hear any more of the crap Izzie has to say.

"But-"

"NO, IZZIE THERE IS NO BUT. FOR ONCE THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU. THIS IS ABOUT ME. MY LIFE. MY JO. MY KID. THIS HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU, SO YOU HAVE NO SAYING IN THIS." He screams angrily, letting everything out that he had bottled up inside of himself for so long.

"Of course it has something to do with me. It means I'm losing you to her."

"Oh my God. It's exactly like that one time I thought Rebecca was pregnant with my child. Back then you also tried to talk everything bad. And even though Rebecca's pregnancy was fake, Jo's isn't. Jo's pregnancy is real and if you like it or not I will support her. I will be there for my kid, no matter what you say. Because she's pregnant with my child and I will be the father that kid deserves, because Jo made me that kind of guy. Also Jo would never lie to me about something like that. She's not like that; she knows how much I would give for every single one of my children." He pauses for a moment, when he realizes something.

"Alex- It's just- I'm afraid that I'm losing you now that I just have you back." She answers with tears in her eyes.

"Izzie you are not losing me, because you never had me. I came here for one reason and one reason only - my kids. If it would have only been you I would have never left my wife because you told me so many times that I'm not good enough for you. I tried so hard to be good enough for you - I changed so much and pretend to be someone I'm not, but it was never enough for you. And now that you had my kids you want me back? Now all of my flaws don't bother you? No. You only want me because you have no one else and that's no one's fault but your own. Jo on the other side always wanted me exactly how I was. She never changed me, she never tried to, she never told me that I'm not good enough for her. No, she always told me that I'm too good for her. She accepted me like I am. She respects me so much that she puts my needs before hers. God, she told me to stay here to be with my kids, other than begging me to come back home to her. She's freaking pregnant with my child, she would have every right to tell me to get my ass back home, but she doesn't. She wants me to do what's best for me. She loved me enough to let me go and live with my kids instead or her and my baby."

It's silent again. No one's saying a word for a minute.

"So you are staying?" Izzie asks, breaking through the awkward silence.

Alex is not answering, everything he would say now wouldn’t be nice. So he storms out of the house into the frontyard, where his kids are playing. He sits down on the porch step and watches his kids, when he hears the notification noise of his phone, he pulls it out of his back pocket and looks down on it. It's a message from Jo, which he immediately opens and his heart skips a beat as soon as he sees the picture in front of him - an ultrasound picture with Jos neatly handwriting underneath: Someone wants to say 'hi'.

He can't but smile.

"Daddy, what are you smiling about?" His daughter asks as she sits down beside Alex on the steps, a little out of breath from running around in the frontyard.

"Nothing, Alexis." He answers with a smile, locking his phone while he puts a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"But I want to know, daddy. I wanna smile too." She begs, looking at him with her big puppy dog eyes.

"Well- I told you about Jo once, right?" He asks, getting a nod from his daughter.

"Yes, she looks just like Bell from Beauty and the Beast." She answeres.

"She called me today and told me that she is having a baby. And that makes me really happy." He explains, unlocking his phone and turning it towards Alexis. "Look she send me this picture of the baby. It's still very little, you almost can't see it. It's still in her tummy, that's why the picture looks like this, it's an ultrasound picture." He tells his daughter child appropriate so she understands everything.

"We should visit her, daddy." Alexis tells him simply still looking at the picture on his phone.

"But the baby isn't born yet. It will be in Jo's tummy for another six months." He replies.

"I don't mean the baby, daddy. I mean Jo. She makes you happy and I like that." His five year old says, smiling at her dad.

"If it would be that easy, Alexis." He sighs, putting one arm around his daughter, holding her tight while she tips on his handy.

"It is easy, daddy. We go to the airport, get into the right plane and fly to her. And then you are as happy as you were here." She points towards Alex phone, the picture of their ferry boat wedding showing.

-

@thejolexgroupchat

[procrastinatorimagines]

Here For You Part 6

Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago

Series: Here For You

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,534

Summary: Y/N’s world spun out of control after she got pregnant, uprooting her life and moving to Chicago only for her brother to get involved in a murder trial. Now, her baby is finally here, and with Jay by her side her life feels like it’s finally coming together again, until someone from her past comes back into the picture and threatens to tear down everything she’s tried so hard to build.

The trial process was nervewracking, multiple interviews, assessing characters, income, stability... You were glad you had Jay to lean on when it got overwhelming, but you knew you were the best thing for Lucas, and you held onto that throughout the ordeal. 

Between juggling raising your son and fighting to keep him, you made yourself think about your own future, not just in terms of Jay, but in terms of a career too. So when Lucas was big enough, you were going to start training to be a nurse. It was a time of near constant fear, but also hope; you could see your life beyond this, all you had to go was get past this colosal hurdle. 

Tommy on the other hand, as you learned in court, didn’t have a job or apartment, and had bailed on two separate court-ordered rehabs, leading to hefty fines he couldn’t afford to pay. Needless to say, the trail was going in your favour.

Eventually, the judge ruled that you were to receive full custody, but adviced you let Tommy have visitation at your own discretion, and at a time when he was in a fitter state and child support was being paid regularly and in full, the issue of custody could be revisited. Tommy wasn’t happy, but it was everything you could have asked for. 

You left the courtroom with your head held high that day, Henry passing you back Lucas as he and Jay led you out towards the elevators. Tommy chose that moment to approach, your smile wiped from your face in an instant. 

“Y/N,” he said with force, making you stop in your tracks and turn to face him. He was angry, and while you couldn’t exactly blame him... wait, yes you could. Tommy was the one who wanted to take this to court, actually having the audacity to put you and Lucas through all that thinking he had a chance. 

Jay put a protective hand on your back, positioning himself so that he was slightly shielding you and your son. “You brought this on yourself,” you told him, watching his eyes flare with rage as you continued, “if you’d have just reached out properly, we might have been able to sort something out without needing it to get this far.” 

It wasn’t a lie, you would have considered it, maybe not when you were lying in a hospital bed with your new born baby obviously, and he never should have expected that, but you could have come to an arangement. 

Tommy rolled his eyes and grumbled something you didn’t care to repeat, Jay tensing beside you. “Who the hell is this guy anyway, seriously?” He asked, gesturing to Jay with indignation, “this guy isn’t Lucas’ dad, I am, and what? He gets to be around my kid whenever he wants while I have to beg you for scraps?” 

Lucas was starting to fuss in your arms as you took a step away from Jay towards Tommy, wanting to show him that you were fighting your own battles. Jay cast you a worried glance but he didn’t stop you. You took a breath, leveling yourself as you felt your blood boil. 

“Yes,” you answered his question, much to his shock and anger, “Jay’s been there for me, for us, this whole time since we met, since you left. He’s a good man, kind and dedicated, and Lucas would be lucky to have Jay for a dad.” 

You heard Jay suck in a small sharp breath, not expecting you to say that; Tommy gasped in surprise, almost looking hurt. Honestly, you were surprised you said that outloud too, but there it was. Henry was smiling in a knowing way, glad his sister was finally standing up for herself.  

“You little...” Tommy hissed, taking a step forward and pointing his finger in an acusatory manner. Instinctively, you took a step back, a protective arm around Lucas as he started to cry. That was all the cue Jay needed to intervene, blocking Tommy’s path.

Security took a step forward, ready to de-escalate the situation if they needed to, but Jay had it under control, sensing the shift in Tommy’s stance and the way he clenched his fist. It was an obvious swing, one that Jay dodged with ease, a slight glint clear in his eyes, gaining all the justification he’d been waiting for as he aimed a well placed punch at Tommy’s nose, knocking him to the ground in one hit. 

Tommy looked daised, steam practically coming out of his eyes as he tried to stand, clearly going for round two before he froze, staring at the badge Jay had just revealed under his shirt. Jay signaled to the guard to pick him up off the floor.

“Congratuations Tommy, you’ve just assaulted a police detective in a court house full of witnesses,” he told him, nodding towards the crowd of people who had stopped what they were doing to witness the commotion. 

Any sympathy you might have had was gone as you looked him square in the eyes. “Goodbye Tommy,” you told him, turning on your heals as you soothed your crying son. You already had an actual baby to take care of, you didn’t need to pile a grown man onto that list. Somewhere down the line, you might consider letting him visit Lucas, but that wasn’t going to be anytime soon. Besides, after this there wouldn’t be a judge around who wouldn’t take your side on that matter.

As the doors shut to the elevator and Tommy was taken into custody, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, grateful when you felt Jay’s fingers slip into your own. You glanced down at his bruised knuckles and ran your thumb over them lightly, squeezing his hand in thanks as Lucas began to calm down. 

It had been satisfying to watch, if you were being honest, you knew Henry agreed by the smirk that had become permanently plastered on his face. Jay definitely enjoyed it a little too much, but you didn’t blame him.

You looked around at the people in the elevator. They were your family, Lucas’ family. You didn’t need Tommy, hadn’t for a long time, maybe now he’d realise that.

-

“What’s going to happen to Tommy?” You inquired once you were back in the comfort of your own apartment, Lucas finally calmed down and asleep after the ordeal at court. 

“I don’t know, but after that outburst he won’t be allowed near you or Lucas for a long time,” Jay informed you, temporarily putting on his serious detective voice, “I’ll make some calls tomorrow.” You knew he would, he took yours and Lucas’ safety very seriously, Tommy was probably at the 21st right now nursing his nose.

“I didn’t want this, Lucas deserves stability, a good father...” You sighed with frustration, all the emotion you’d bottled up during the day and the trail threatening to boil over. Jay grabbed your hand and you met his eyes, “I meant what I said in there, about you. I want you in his life.”

“I want to be in his life, I love him...” Jay told you honestly, taking a deep readying breath, as if preparing himself for what he was about to say, “I’m kind of in love with you too.”

“Jay-,” You breathed, shocked by his declaration.

“I know you’ve been through a lot and this is sudden, but I love you Y/N, and I want to be a part of your life, both of your lives,” he continued, taking your other hand too. 

His touch was strong, warm, comforting, everything you wanted for yourself and Lucas. Jay had proven time and time again the kind of man he was, without fail, he’d been kind, patient, supportive... everything Tommy had never been, everything you didn’t think you deserved, but here he was, ready to give it all to you without hesitation. 

So you told him the truth, the truth you hadn’t even realised it until this moment, buried deep down as you’d tried to navigate your new life. “I love you too,” you told him, and it was like something cracked open in your chest, and you could breath again. You’d never said those words to anyone, not romantically, but you knew it your heart that you did.

“Yeah?” He asked hopefully, not quite believing that you’d said it back so quickly, or with so much confidence. You took him in as you thought of what to say, every detail.

“Yeah I really do, I guess I’ve been trying to fight it, thinking that it might be selfish to think about a relationship right now, but the truth is you are what’s best for him, and me,” you tried your best to explain, “I love you, and although I don’t know what’s going to happen with Tommy, I know Lucas could never ask for a better father than you.”

“You mean that?” 

"With my whole heart.” 

And then you kissed, and it felt like a promise, a promise of ‘i love you’, a promise of a future, a promise to always been there for each other, whatever came next. 

[anotheronechicagobog]

Brian Zvonecek x Reader Wake Up

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: Swearing, childbirth (from both animals and people), mention of miscarriage, mention of infertility, mention of fear and insecurities about not being able to get pregnant, it’s really not as angsty as it sounds I’m just being careful, fake Instagram post at the end

“You’re the only one I wanna wake up to”

“Well, we’ve been married for seven years so I should hope so.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“I do.”

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

After Brian went to work you dropped your daughter Sasha off at school before heading to work yourself. You weren’t a first responder, you were a doctor technically, but not one for humans. You work at the aquarium as a veterinarian. It was an interesting job, you were always up doing something interesting. For example, as you were performing an ultrasound on a guitar shark, all that you could think about was how your mom had wanted you to be an accountant. “And there’s the heartbeat, there is at least one pup in there. I’d like to check again in a month or so, there hasn’t been a lot of research done on these guys so I don’t know how long gestation will be, or even how many pups she’ll have in total. Let’s get her back in the exhibit, I’ll set up another appointment. And her handlers? That’s you- and you? Okay great, we’ll need to up her allotted food. I think just straight up doubling would be best, if that seems like too much you can dial it back, and if it seems like too much page me, got it? Good.”

You still smelled like seawater and blubber when you got home to a tea party in your living room. The sight of four massive firefighters wearing tutus and costume jewellery all while crammed into tiny chairs at a tiny table always made your day. “Hey guys, mind if I steal a lemon square?”

“Mommy you’re home!” Sasha tackled you as well as a five-year-old could. “Is Halo pregnant? Is she?”

“Yes, she is. There is at least one baby on the way. There are probably more though because...?”

“Guitarfish in the wild have six babies on aberage!”

“That’s right! Look at you, getting so smart!”

“Yeah, soon you’ll be smarter than me.”

“She’s already smarter than you, Brian.”

“Hey!”

“That’s not nice uncle Sevy. No more cookies for you.” Kelly looked genuinely hurt at the punishment Sahsa had dolled out on him. “But they’re chocolate chip. Chocolate chip is my favourite.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been mean to daddy.”

“I’m gonna go shower, you guys continue with your tea party.” You left with a wink and a kiss on Sasha’s forehead. Brian got this soft look in his eyes as he regarded the two of you, and in the back of your mind you weren’t surprised. He’d never been shy about wanting two or three kids, you’d just been delaying it a bit because of how labour intensive your work was. And there was the added danger of what could happen to a fetus under lots of water pressure when you went diving into the large, and deep, exhibits. But you didn’t want to put off the discussion any longer, if you were being honest, you wanted more kids too, and there was already going to be quite the age gap between Sasha and any future sibling(s). You thought about how to bring up your points, your concerns as you stepped out of the shower into the steam-filled bathroom. Ultimately, Brian could not and would not force you to have another child. If you didn’t want another, he would leave it at that because he understood where most of the labour in the reproductive system lay.

Kelly, Matt, and Joe were still in your living room hanging onto Sasha’s every word. Every few seconds Sasha would slap on of Kelly’s hands away from where it was creeping towards the cookie plate. You spotted Brian in the kitchen, prepping a roast pan of potatoes, carrots, and sausages for dinner. You slinked up to his side and kissed his cheek. “Mhmm, you don’t smell like whale anymore.” 

“Gee, thanks. What a way to make your wife feel special.”

“I’ll just put this in the oven and then dinner should be ready in forty-five minutes. Why don’t you join the princesses and I’ll set the table.”

“How about I set the table, you finish cooking dinner, and then we leave the princesses alone for a minute and we have a talk in private?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No.”

“Then sure.”

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

You two had stepped into the guest room, Brian slightly confused. “Is everything okay? And why are we talking in the guest room instead of hours?”

“How would you feel about turning this room into a nursery- I’m not pregnant, but what if we started trying to have another kid?”

“I- are you sure? I mean, I know with work-”

“Brian, I want another kid. Truthfully, I’ve felt bad putting it off this long, creating such an age gap.”

“Hey, you were doing important research that revolutionized-”

“I know, Brian. I don’t regret it, I’ve just felt bad. I see how some of the Hermann Horde are closer than others and a lot of it is due to age. They’re at different stages in their life so they never get the chance to have the same interests or go through things together the same way.”

“You’re thinking about it the wrong way. Sasha will be able to advise them on so many things in ways we just can’t. And she’ll be the cool older sister because she’ll know different things and have different freedoms. They won’t fight as often because they probably won’t like the same toys or clothes, Sasha will teach them how to deal with us, I mean they might not be close at first, but they’ll have such a great relationship when they get older.”

“Sasha is going to be amazing big sister.”

“Without a doubt.”

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

It had been ten months. You still weren’t pregnant. Honestly, it was stressing you out. What if you couldn’t get pregnant now? What if you waited too long and some problem popped up and now it was too late? You could tell it was wearing on Brian, too. “Mom? Are you okay? You and dad seem... Off lately.”

“Oh, yeah, we’re both okay, don’t worry honey.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Sasha didn’t look convinced as she walked into her school, but you let it be. You took a moment to ground yourself in your car before driving to work. You loved your job, absolutely loved it, but diving was your favourite part and you couldn’t do that while trying for a baby. Once you said you were taking a break from it all your co-workers immediately assumed you were pregnant again. You’d gone from joyful suggestive looks and hugs to pitiful glances and concerned pats on the shoulder. It was grating on your nerves and insecurities. 

Today Melody, a harbour seal, was predicted to give birth. Everyone was on edge. Sometimes these things happened on schedule, sometimes they didn’t. But regardless you remained solely on-call for the perky seal. And while desperately hated to admit it, you were jealous. Of a seal. Who gets jealous of a seal? What kind of person did that make you?

You were brought out of your reverie when Melody plopped her head in your lap. Her eyes soulful. Worried. Was the labour starting? You did another check, and she was. You yelled for your assistants.

Poor Melody, she was in pain, and you could tell she was nervous. This would be her first pup, and even mothers got nervous about their first borns, you supposed. You made sure to stroke her head when you could. “Don’t worry Melody, everything will be okay.” The birth had gone smoothly, Melody and her currently unnamed pup were doing well when pain ripped through you. It was as it someone took and electron pole and buried it in your abdomen. You screamed and fell to the ground. The pain you incurred from hitting your hip and your head on the ground were nothing in comparison to what was going on further down. Oh no, what if I am pregnant and I’m having a miscarriage? The pain stopped but only for brief moments and the only time you could remember feeling anything close to as bad as this was minutes before giving birth to Sasha.

Everything was a blur of distressed seal noises, salt water, splashing, screaming, and sirens. You came back when Dr. Manning gave you you’re diagnosis. “That’s- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- not- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

“It’s called a ‘cryptic pregnancy’. I know it doesn’t feel real because you didn’t go through a normal pregnancy, but you are in labour. Don’t worry, Maggie’s called 51, Brian is on his way.”

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

“Y/N! I’m here- what’s going on?!”

“So- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- as it turns out I’m pregnant.”

“Actually she’s in labour.” Doris bluntly spat at Brian, she raised her eyebrows and pulled her lips into a line, all of which conveyed just how much she was judging you poorly at the moment, the next bucket full of gossip for MED churning in her head.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YOU KNOW WHAT DORIS, MOST WOMEN HAVE NINE MONTHS TO PREPARE FOR GIVING BIRTH AND I’VE HAD LESS THAN AN HOUR SO SHUT THE FUCK UP, GET OUT, AND STAY OUT! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” You honestly felt like you were dying, and the absolute last thing you needed was a catty, gossipy nurse making an already life altering and stressful moment more so. She quickly bolted out of the room, April taking her place. She was quiet, subdued, clearly thinking of her failed attempts at getting pregnant. And while you felt awful for her, you were immensely grateful for a nurse that wasn’t Doris. “I’m right here, honey.”

“You smell like smoke.”

“You smell like fish.” Him in his turnout pants and you in a put up wetsuit, you really did make a pair.

“Touche- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Squeeze my hand.”

“I’ll probably break it.”

“I’m yours to break.”

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

[imekitty]

Because I'm sadistic, I have a Prompt: Danny has incredibly slowed age. He looks about twenty, when he's almost sixty, and his mind is as sharp as ever. He's attending Sam's funeral

This was exceptionally hard to write.

———–

Tucker parked his car in the cemetery’s front parking lot. Past the gate, Danny could see a large crowd of people gathered, every single one of them dressed in black. Exactly the way Sam would’ve wanted it.

Or maybe not. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked how everyone was dressed in her signature color. She did like to be as unique and different as possible.

Danny unbuckled his seat belt and gave Tucker a weak smile. “Need help getting out?”

“You really haven’t aged,” muttered Tucker. His smile was also weak but still deepened all of the lines in his face. “You just can’t help being a brat even now at a funeral.”

“Look, I just know your knee gives you trouble.”

“Yeah, it does, but I’m not decrepit yet.”

Danny hopped out of the car and walked to the other side just in time to see Tucker groan as he put weight on his leg.

“Here.” Danny held out an arm to help, an arm still strong and taut.

Tucker shook his head and shut the door. “Thanks, but I’m okay.” He stretched his back and looked up at the sky. “It’s sunny. I’m not sure Sam would’ve liked this.”

Tucker squinted in the bright light, his eyes crinkling, skin sagging. Creases and jowls that Danny did not have.

“You gonna let everyone see you?” asked Tucker.

Danny looked down at himself. “Oh.” He turned invisible so that no one could see him. Because there were people at this funeral who might recognize him. People who would wonder why his hair was still so dark, his skin tone still so even and smooth, why there were no spots or wrinkles anywhere on his face.

The price of keeping his youth for longer than he was supposed to.

Danny walked alongside Tucker past the gate into the cemetery, kept his pace slow and synced with Tucker’s. Tucker stared straight ahead, acting as if there weren’t an invisible man by his side.

When they reached the gravesite, the oldest woman there approached Tucker. Pam Manson, Sam’s mother. At eighty-two years old, she had outlived both her husband and now her daughter.

“Tucker. So wonderful you could make it.” Pam directed him to a seat.

“Of course,” said Tucker. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“But it seems Danny would.”

Danny rubbed his thumbs over his knuckles in an attempt to keep calm.

Tucker smiled, the corners of his mouth and eyes twitching. “Danny really wanted to be here, Pam. But he unfortunately had some family matters to take care of.”

“Of course, I understand. I wouldn’t expect him to put one of his oldest childhood friends above his family.”

Danny’s lips thinned. Sam’s mother never did like him, and after more than fifty years, that apparently hadn’t changed.

Well. At least Danny didn’t have to pretend to smile. He could make faces at her all he wanted and she’d never know.

Danny stood silently next to Tucker and only listened to the conversation he was carrying with the family beside him. This was fine, really. He was always so shy anyway and bad at making good impressions. It was just fine that no one could see him so he didn’t have to interact with anyone.

Just… Just fine.

The funeral conductor began addressing the crowd. Danny did not recognize him. In fact, he did not recognize most of the people here. When he and Sam were younger, he knew everything about her and the people in her life, but after high school, she moved pretty far from Amity Park to attend a more prestigious university, and then she just…never returned. She met a guy in one of her classes who was also a goth in his high school years, and they married shortly after graduating. Danny remembered opening the wedding invitation, smiling at how not at all surprising it was that she’d marry a guy named Lucien.

And now her children were all grown up. He could see them in the front row, all four of them. They even had small children of their own now.

During the funeral, throughout the eulogies and speeches, no one mentioned her cause of death even once. No, of course not, they all wanted to focus on her life, her strong moments, not her weakest.

But Danny’s mind kept drifting to how this all started, to that first phone call from Sam just a little under five years earlier when she told him she had been diagnosed with leukemia. She posted frequently on social media about her journey through chemotherapy, remission, recurrence, more chemo, a second remission, another recurrence, more chemo and experimental treatments, a third remission.

And throughout it all, Danny talked to her on the phone as often as he could and used rips in the Ghost Zone to visit her in the hospital when needed.

After the fourth recurrence, when the cancer spread to her brain, the doctors sent her home to die. And Danny visited her every single time she informed him that her husband and children weren’t around. He had to keep his half-ghost secret even from them.

“You look good, Danny,” Sam remarked during one of their final times together.

She had been lying on a hospital bed that had been set up in her home. The left side of her face drooped as she looked at him out of only her right eye; the cancer in her brain had caused irreparable nerve damage. Danny sat beside her and held her nearly translucent hand riddled with veins.

“It’s incredible how young you still look; I keep forgetting you’re sixty like me. You look like you could still be in college,” said Sam feebly but with humor. “Maybe I should’ve zapped myself in that portal with you.”

Danny studied her pale face, the sparse patches of hair on her head, her loose skin.

“You look beautiful, Sam,” said Danny.

Sam gave him her familiar smirk, the one he loved so much even if it was slightly lopsided now. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Danny wished he could make her believe he absolutely meant it with all his heart.

“I don’t think I’m going to become a ghost,” said Sam the very last time he visited her. “If you’re worried.”

Danny furrowed his brow.

“I’ve had five years to prepare for this,” said Sam. “I’m okay with it now. I feel ready. I’m not going to die with any intense regrets or unfinished business. So don’t worry; I won’t be making your life as a ghost fighter harder when I go.”

She gave him one last smile, one last memory for him to cherish.

“There’s just no longer a call for me to stay.”

Danny stifled a sob and put a hand over his mouth even though no one at this funeral could see him anyway.

“You okay?” whispered Tucker.

“Yeah,” Danny replied as breathlessly as he could. He looked forward again at the current speaker, one of Sam’s sons. His eyes were dry but bloodshot.

One of them had to die first. Of him, Sam, and Tucker, one of them had to be the first to go. Danny didn’t expect it to happen quite this soon, but it was always inevitable. And then the next friend would die, and one would outlive the others.

But he and Tucker both already knew who would be attending whose funeral in the future. It was only a question of when Tucker would die and how old Danny would appear at that time.

And Jazz, well, he knew he’d be outliving her, too. And that was normal. Him, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, they were all about the same age. It was supposed to be that way.

And it was also normal for him to attend his parents’ funerals. They were both gone now. He had expected them to die first and was at peace with it.

He again looked at the speaker, Sam’s son, speaking at his mother’s funeral because that was how it was meant to be, children burying their parents and then moving on until their own children buried them.

In the front row, Pam cried into her hands.

And Danny realized that would one day be him.

He clutched at his chest but kept his shuddering breaths quiet. His children already looked older than he did, which could only mean—

They would get old before he did.

They would die before he did.

And for all he knew, his grandchildren might surpass him in age as well, and then he’d be attending their funerals, too.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be half ghost. He was born human and he was supposed to stay that way.

Was this God punishing him for bastardizing the body he was given? Forcing him to watch everyone he loved die before he could finally leave, too?

Pam was still crying. If only Danny could ask her what it was like to bury her child. Maybe she could help him prepare for when he would have to bury all of his.

Danny sniffled as a couple tears slid down his face. Tucker glanced up in his direction but said nothing. For once, Danny was glad to be invisible. He hated crying with other people around, but here, he could cry as much as he wanted and no one would ever know.

He was supposed to grow old with his wife. Supposed to grow old with Tucker. It was hard to even think of Tucker as his “bro” these days, not with this difference in appearance and abilities. Tucker was once full of energy, and now he was just tired all the time and unable to walk or run for long without triggering inflammation in his knee. Hanging out with Tucker now was mostly just watching TV or talking or maybe playing a video game if Tucker was up for it. Nothing like the adventures they used to have, the adventures Danny still had energy for. It had been years since Tucker even joined Danny on ghost patrol.

And that should’ve been fine. That should’ve been normal. Danny should’ve been right there with him, advanced in years and down on energy, the two of them enjoying the remainder of their lives while watching their kids take on new adventures.

Instead, he was watching everyone slowing down and dying while he was stuck here and unable to follow them. Even if he wanted to join them all sooner in death, his ghostly obsession would never allow it. He had to stay here for as long as his supernatural body and health allowed him to.

You’re so lucky, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, his wife, and even his kids kept telling him. So lucky to not have to deal with wrinkles and thinning hair, straining eyes and aching joints, discolored skin spots and bulging veins.

Well, someday he was gonna be all alone. Then how lucky would he be?

A cloud covered the sun as a new speaker moved to the front. Danny shivered in the new cold shade. He wished he could say a few words, let everyone know just how amazing Sam was and how much he missed her and how much he still loved her.

But he couldn’t. He was stuck right here.

[briefololtragedy]

Bleed for me

Pairing: ShiSaku

Rating: M (for violence)

Summary: Shisui didn’t like people touching what was his

for day 3 of shiSaku weekend: Yakuza AU, obsession, You’re mine and only mine @shisakuweek

Also posted on AO3

A pale child laid in a hospital bed. Their skin almost blending into the stark white sheets that encased the bed. A man and woman sat beside the bed holding onto the child’s hand. Tears could be seen streaming down their faces. They spoke sweet nothings into her ear. The young girl could not hear what they were saying. It was hard to distinguish the small fragile body of the girl from the lines going to and from her. She was almost more machine than human at this point.

The click clack of heels could be heard nearing the door. A gentle knock took the couples attention from their child to the woman now in the room.

“Mr and Mrs. Sato, I’m Doctor Sakura Haruno and here to talk to you about Rin.” The married couple grasped onto each other. They stared at the woman before them, waiting on bated breath for good news.

“I am one of the transplant doctors who specialize in pediatric cardiothoracic surgery. Do you mind if I sit as we talk about Ms. Rin?” A gentle smile made its way onto Dr. Haruno’s face as the couple nodded their heads yes.

“As you know Rin was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome. She has undergone the three stages of repair for her condition, but has now developed complications from not having a 4 chambered heart.” Sakura paused giving time for the parents to process. She always hated these conversations. She glanced at the child laying in the bed. It was likely that good news would not come to this family.

“She has started to develop heart failure in combination with protein losing enteropathy, PLE, as we call it. We do not know the exact reason why some children who have undergone the second or third stage of repair develop this condition. There are some experimental procedures that some surgery centers have tried with little improvement in the patient's condition.” Another pause.

“We are currently pumping the blood through her body artificially with the machine you see. I know when Rin was placed on this they told you what it entails. Her heart is no longer strong enough to function. The machine is giving her lungs a break as well. Right now the best chance Rin has is a heart transplant. She will be near the top of the list in her current state. However, I want you to prepare for the worst case scenario. I am not sure when there will be a donor who matches Rin’s needs…” The words faded into the background for the couple as the sobs overtook them. The doctor placed a hand on the wife’s back rubbing soothing circles. She hoped for a miracle, but life was a cruel bitch.

_______________________________-

The doctor from before was sitting at a bar stool, her petal pink hair cascading down her back. She took a swig of the beer in her hand wanting to erase the day she had. She was dressed to kill with a body hugging backless dress. It was wine red in color, accentuating her alabaster skin. Her green eyes shined like emeralds.

She felt a calloused hands caress her back causing her muscles to twitch. She could smell the alcohol on the individual's breath.

“Aint you a pretty little thing. Let me buy you a drink and you can repay me later.” She had to roll her eyes.

“Beat it. I’m not interested.” She didn’t even bother looking at the man.

“Come on pinky. I can rock your world. You look like you need something stiff.” His laugh grated on her nerves. When he wouldn’t leave her alone, she got up and started to leave. The oaf of a man couldn’t take the hint and grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. She wanted to hurl fron the stench.

“You smell good pinky.” He was starting to rub his nose in her neck. Before she could send her elbow to the man’s skull he was already falling to the ground.

“Ahh!” The drunken idiot now had a foot crushing the bones in his hand. Sakura could hear the crunch of bone from where she was.

“I think the lady told you she wasn’t interested.” A rich baritone voice spoke.

“Oh you just want the bitch for yourself. Find your own. I saw this one first.” The man before her applied more force through his foot, causing the man below him to groan in agony.

“I think it would be best if you leave before something unsightly happens to you.” Sakura knew the man’s fate was dealt the moment he touched her. Sakura already saw a few men in the corner start to move. Once the drunk was up and moving to the exit, he was being followed.

“Was that really necessary, Shisui?” Sakura took the martini from him and started to sip it slowly. She melted when he wrapped his right arm around her. He brought his index finger to her chin and traced her bone structure. Shisui stopped once he was under her chin and turned her face to look at him.

“He was touching what was mine. Don’t forget you’re mine and only mine.” Shisui then sealed their lips together with a kiss.

“Hmm don’t forget you are mine as well.” Shisui smirked. He wouldn’t have it any other way. Shisui would do anything for her. _______________________________

Shisui sat in his leather chair listening to his lackeys talk about different shipments. He really didn’t care at the moment. Sakura was upset about one of her patients. While she told him most things, she always kept her work at arms length from him. Well she tried to for the most part.

When Itachi entered the room Shisui found his back straightening. The glint in Itachi’s eye told Shisui that he was successful in his mission.

“You three leave now.” The three scattered out the door faster than cockroaches clearing ,when a light was turned on. The two waited for the door to close before speaking.

“It appears Sakura has a patient who recently went on the heart transplant list. It's a young girl 8-9 years of age. She has two younger siblings. Mother is an elementary school teacher and father works for a bank. He is a low level teller. The nurses were saying how they don’t think a match will come in on time. Parents are preparing for the worse.”

Shisui leaned onto his clasped hands. “Did you get her blood type and cross matching?”

Itachi smirked and held up a file. “Of course I did. I also tracked down some of the regulars at that bar the two of you go to. I found one who is a match.”

This was just all too perfect.

“You know what to do. Sakura and I will be meeting there for drinks tonight.” Shisui got up from his desk and grabbed his jacket. He was going to kill two birds with one stone. Rid the world of a lowly excuse for a human being and make Sakura happy.

___________________________________________

Shisui had gotten to the bar early to make sure he was sitting in a dark corner. He watched the man go to the bar and order his drink. The bartender glanced his way and Shisui gave a nod. The guy was too busy talking with his friends to see the purple liquid get added to his drink. In just 30-60 minutes the man would lose all inhibitions and fall into the trap.

Itachi was stationed with two others around the bar. The moment Sakura walked into the bar Shisui’s breath escaped his lungs. He could never figure out how she looked so ethereal.

_________________________________________

Sakura snuggled to the man next to her. She buried her nose into his chest. He smelled of sandalwood.

“Hmm where did you go after we got home?” Sakura mumbled as she talked to him. Before he could answer her pager went off. Sakura jumped out of bed and grabbed her phone.

Soon she was kissing Shisui and rushing to get dressed. Shisui just leaned back in their shared bed. Thinking of earlier.

The blade ran up and down the man’s skin. Shisui made sure not to apply enough pressure to cut into the epidermis, at least not yet. The man’s arms and legs were bound to the table immobilizing him.

“Do you know why you are here...What’s your name again?” The man was a sobbing mess.

“K..Ken. Please I have a family.” Anger boiled in Shisui’s veins. He grabbed Ken’s chin, squeezing hard.

“You have a family? Do they know you were at a bar trying to force yourself on women?”

“I’ve never.” A forceful sob caused Ken’s body to jerk violently. Shisui squeezed harder on the man’s jaw. He could feel the bones give under his grip, with a flick of the wrist he jaw gave way.

“What were you doing tonight then? Touching what is mine.” Shisui knew he was not going to get an answer due to the dislocated jaw in his hand.

“Don’t worry your life will mean something once it is ended.” Shisui took his other hand and dug the knife at the base of Ken’s skull. He had read enough of Sakura’s medical textbooks to know the right place to hit to render someone brain dead. Ken would still have his brainstem functions allowing his heart to beat long enough for it to live in another.

In the corner sat Kabuto. While Shisui didn’t agree with his politics, he knew the man could keep a secret. Kabuto also knew better than to cross Shisui. Shisui would not waste any time adding more bodies to the bottom of the ocean.

“You know your part?” Shisui cleaned off his blade.

“Yes. I will take this man to the OR after declaring him brain dead. The nurses will find his organ donor card and alert the transplant team.”

“What are you waiting for? Go.” Shisui wanted to go back home and crawl into his bed. He knew his slumber was going to get distrubed in a few hours with the page Sakura was going to get.

Sakura was running around their bedroom grabbing the nearest article of clothing to dress in. Shisui threw the covers off his body and followed her.

“What are you doing?” Shisui just raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll take you to work so you can rest on the way there. I don’t have work in the morning so I can stay to drive you home.” Shisui melted when he saw her smile. He soon felt arms around his neck and a soft kiss.

“You’re amazing. I can never get over how kind of a husband I have.” Shisui just rested his head on hers before hurrying her to the car.

_____________________________________

He was pacing back and forth. He could see a couple with two young children sitting in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Sakura had been in the OR for over 5 hours now. He was lucky she let him sleep in her office, but he was restless. Multiple what if questions ran through his brain. Shisui started chewing on his thumb nail. He ignored the pointed looks from the staff and visitors who passed him.

Shisui propped himself on the wall. He wanted a view of the OR doors when they opened. After another hour or two, the doors finally opened. Sakura’s hair was tucked under her scrub cap and part of her face obscured by her surgical mask, but she still looked stunning. As he watched her walk over to the family Shisui knew it was all worth it.

It just wasn’t tonight that was worth it. He thought back to when he first met his wife. She was a struggling medical student who his little cousin brought over to stitch him up. Shisui was ensnared in her beauty at that moment. She didn’t bat an eyelash when he cursed at her due to the pain. Sakura didn’t care who he was or how he would be taking the mantle of the Yakuza head.

Shisui spent months planning on how he would bump into her. He memorized her schedule, followed her some nights. She became his obsession. His life was consumed by her. He felt like a nervous fool asking her out the first time. They fell into a comfortable rhythm after that. She was always by his side. Shisui found that they shared a lot of the same ideals.

“Shisui did you get any sleep?” Her hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts.

“I got some. Let’s get you home. Was the surgery successful?” He held her close as they walked back to her office.

“It was. Thank you.” Her head rested on his shoulder as they walked.

“No need to thank me.” Shisui found himself against her office wall as she devoured him.

“Without you there would have been no surgery tonight. So thank you. You got Kabuto to help didn’t you?” Well hearing that rat's name killed the mood.

“You said you didn’t want to be involved anymore.” They stood in her office embracing.

“You know it’s best for me to not be involved. Let’s get back home to Hiroyuki, he’ll be missing us.” Sakura was right. Their son would be missing them.

[rhaenyratargeryn]

Who wants to read the first part of a Mando x Reader fic I’ll probably never finish???? If it had a title it would be “For a Few Credits More” 

---

For you, the fall of the Empire had come too late. It was still an event worthy of celebration and you had done so, joyfully and wholeheartedly along with your fellow farmers and miners in Mos Eisley.

And when the voices had died down and the drinks stopped flowing, you had found a space to quietly and somberly remember the man who had died so you would be here today and not in the ground alongside him.

To say you’d always been “different” felt somehow shallow and silly. To say you’d been cursed was perhaps more true to point. You knew little of your life before the age of five, only that you were born to the lights and bustle of Coruscant and when your parents had died during the Resistance conflict with the Empire, you were shipped off to an orphanage who in turn packed up and moved to the Outer Rim planet of Lah’mu. The Empire paid incentives for settlers to take on the harsh landscape of the planet, the orphanage using its charges as little more than hired hands.

You hadn’t minded the dark rainy skies, finding they were easier on your light sensitive eyes, a genetic gift from your Miraluka father, who had been born with none. But that was not the only gift he had granted you with.

You dreamt of a man. Older, wiser than most and with a gracefulness to his moments and his thoughts you’d had never seen before. Through the dreams he had found you and explained to you the existence of a force. An energy that lived through all things, that lived in him, lived in you. Lived in the planet and the plants atop it as well as the rocks beneath.

Caston Rik was his name and he bought you from the orphanage, braided three strands of hair at the base of your neck where it could be pushed back and hidden easily... and called you “Padawan”. The word brought forth memories of a shining temple, of gold and silver and an age of balance and peace. It also brought a feeling of taboo, of dread, for even if you had never heard of the Force, you knew the word “Jedi” all too well tied to the word “Inquisitor”.

And that was how it all came to end. Fifteen years old and orphaned again by the red plunge of a saber through Caston’s heart.

You took everything he taught you, everything you had learned and buried it down beneath the sands of Tatoonie, your newest home.

Farming was pretty much the same no matter where you were in the verse, even if it was for metal parts instead of plants or moisture. Junk trading was an easy enough job. You’d learn how to spot a good compressor, a functioning booster or so-so thrust coil. And it felt good to take something back from the Empire, to build something new and beneficial for the people rather than a Destroyer or a blaster.

You’d spent years enough now on Tatoonie that you appeared every bit as native as the rest, skin warmed by the sun. Not much happened at Mos Eisley and you had begun to like it that way.

And that of course is always when things would go spectacularly to hell.

---

It all started with a ship. Not a fine piece of machinery, but a ship all the same. Held together with metal and sheer force of will. You spent only a passing moment eyeing the haul and the several imperfections that dotted it's surface. Evidence of shoot outs. Of tight squeezes. Of in general, either some pretty fine piloting or some of the worst. Depended on how you judged success.

Peli was hunkered down near the landing gear, flanked by a few droids as sparks flew around her. At your approach she paused, flicking up her welding helmet to reveal a soot streaked face you’d come to know and admire.

“Still kickin’ huh?” she said with a smile, turning to look at the scrappily constructed bag you dragged behind you.

“Those my parts?”

“Those your parts.” you said, smiling with pride.

“Let’s take a look! You, take this--” she handed the welder to one of the droids, “Don’t weld yourself to the haul. Guy hates droids, remember? Alright. Let’s see what you got.”

You followed Peli to a work table, picking up the bag and setting it with some care onto the surface before the older woman untied it and pulled out the product within.

“Not bad, not bad. You sand spray off the rust?”

“Always do. Corrosion wasn’t too severe to start with that deep inside the Destroyer.”

“How far’d you crawl in that thing?”

“A ways.”

In truth, it hadn’t been difficult at all when one could simply reach out, find the device they were looking for and then move aside debris and fallen haul walls with your mind. But that wasn’t a trick you were prepared to share.

“Surprised it ain’t been picked clean alrea-- sweet damn!” Peli exclaimed, pulling out a smooth metal barrel about the size of a small keg. 

“Is this…?!”

“Alderaanian white. Probably the last container in the whole galaxy.”

“This was in there?!”

“Yep. Commander’s quarters under about three tons of scrap metal. Figured you knew someone who could help me move it and we’d settle on a percentage.”

“Hell, it ain’t a part, but it’ll buy some! You got it. Let me talk with some folks and we’ll get a buyer.”

You nodded, “90 percent finder fee.”

“70.” Peli countered without so much as looking up from the container.

“85.”

“80 and I throw in a speeder.”

“Done.” you said with a sharp nod, taking the hand Peli offered you with a smile. You could probably have easily bought a speeder with the funds, but Peli’s quality was without question in these parts. The wine would make a tidy profit hopefully, enough to maybe book passage closer to the mid-rim. 

Your senses sharpened, honing into a presence that you’d failed to notice approaching. That was odd. No one snuck up on you, no one. And yet when you turned, there was… no one there.

There was a tugging at your boot, drawing your eyes down to a tiny green creature with bat-wing sized ears.

The creature cooed happily, lifting up its hands and jumping a bit as a child did when it wanted to be picked up.

“Um…” you turned to Peli for guidance but found the woman busy working through the other bits and parts of your bag. Looking around and seeing no parent, you gently bent down and picked the small creature up.

“De wanna wanga. Hi chuba du naga?” you said, but to your surprise, the child did not respond, simply tilting his head and squeaking.

“You don’t speak Huttese, little guy?”

“Ah! No. He’s just a baby. Doesn’t speak a word yet.” Peli said, noting your visiter. She looked around with a frown.

“Must have gotten away from his dad. Where did that hunk of beskar get to?”

You gave Peli a confused frown of your own, gently bouncing the child in your arms to his delight as he squealed and shrieked happily. Before you could advance forward to ask Peli more about the baby who had wandered into her shop, a voice, modulated and terse called out.

“Put him down.”

Now Peli’s words made sense. Beskar. Lots and lots of Beskar. It was impossible not to hide the awe in your eyes as your mouth threatened to drop open at the sheer weight of credits this man wore on his body.

The Mandalorian strided forward, hand on his hip. The child in your arms resisted your attempts to put him down on the floor below, fussing and holding tight to your sun bleached clothes.

“Put him down.”

“I’m trying.”

Peli spoke up thankfully, “Relax, Mando. She’s good people. Brought the parts to fix your ship right up.”

If the Mandalorian had relaxed, it was by so small a fraction it was lost to your eyes. His hand came away from his blaster though and that was all that mattered. The child settled once again, content to remain where he was.

“You shouldn’t go up to strangers.” the Mandalorian’s voice was low and chiding, directed at the child, who blinked up at him with a smile. Seemingly unimpressed (it was hard to tell beneath the helmet) the Mandalorian held out his hands expectantly. The child made a faint noise but did not go to him.

You heard the click of the Mandalorian’s tongue against the roof of his mouth as he reached out further still and you tried to pass the child into his waiting hands. The child screeched in fury.

“Fine!” he said with a huff and brushed passed you without a second glance, “But don’t wander off again.”

The child giggled and turned its large dark eyes up to you. Something… something inside your heart softened at his face, feeling something familiar and nostalgic somehow despite never having seen a creature like him before.

With his small hands, he reached up towards your face and you felt obligated to lean down, to let him press his tiny palms to your cheeks. He cooed happily and closed his eyes… and the Force moved within you for the first time in more than half a decade.

[kookscrescent]

BTS Reaction┊ Your child says something inappropriate they heard you say

❖ Request: could you please do a bts reaction where their child says something reader said during.. you know?~ anon  *A/N: I tweaked it a little bit so it wouldn't be so repetitive.* ❖ Pairing: bts x reader ❖ Genre: reaction, established relationship w/ children, crack ❖ Warnings: swearing, a little bit of explicit language but nothing too extreme!

⇥ Masterlist

NB! This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

HOSEOK

“It was really nice of you to cook us all dinner ____.” Seokjin comments as he puts down his napkin, his plate almost empty. 

A string of ‘yeah’s’ and ‘it tastes amazing’ sounds around the table, everyone agreeing with Seokjin. 

You smile shyly, their compliment making your cheeks warm. “Thank you. It’s nice to cook for more than three people once i awhile.” You say. 

“More like two really,” Hoseok than adds. “Josephine doesn't really eat that much yet.” 

Just as her name has left Hoseok’s lips, your daughter comes running into the room, a teddy bear under one arm and a bright smile on her face upon seeing all of er uncles. She runs straight to Yoongi. Ever since she was born, she’s favored Yoongi and your heart warms seeing the two interact. 

“Hey, you little rascal.” Yoongi says, gathering Jo on his lap, his fingers softly tickling her sides. She squirms, a loud laughter vibrating from her. She repeatedly hits Yoongi’s arm to get him to stop tickling her. 

“Jo!” You call her name. “You don’t hit people.”

“It’s fine ____,” Yoongi softly comments when Jo starts pouting. 

“She need to learn not to hit people.” Hoseok jumps in. “She’s been doing it at kindergarten too.” 

Jimin, sitting besides Yoongi, turns in his seat, catching Jo’s gaze. “What? You’ve been naughty at kindergarten?” 

Still pouting, Jo mumbles. “But mommy always tells daddy to spank her again.” 

You go beat red. What did your child just say? “What?” 

“Yes, mommy always tells daddy to spank her when they are playing in their room.” Josephine proceeds to tell everyone at the dinner table. 

All eyes now turn to you and Hoseok, and you can see how badly they all want to burst out laughing. Jungkook is the first one to break, followed by the rest of them - including Hoseok. 

You glare at him, gently kicking him under the table, urging him to say something. Anything really, to fix this situation or at least make it a little less awkward. As if it’s even possible. 

“Josephine, honey... What mommy and daddy...” He stops mid sentence trying to control his laughter when the rest of the group continues their fits. “That’s a grown up game.” 

“I never took you guys for being the kinky types.” Taehyung comments in a fit of laughter. 

JUNGKOOK

“-Then how about we leave an hour before the scheduled time?” Seokjin suggests to the rest of the guys. “That way we will have more time at the venue.” 

Namjoon nods, “That could work. I’ll text Sejin and ask what they think of it.” 

The boys are currently having a small meeting at yours and Jungkook's dinner table regarding a conflict in their upcoming schedule. You are only listening with half an ear while you are playing on the floor with Isabella. 

The girl is incredibly dad sick at the moment and she doesn't want to be more than a few steps away from Jungkook, but they also needed to have their meeting in peace, so you compromised and let her play on the floor with her dolls just a few steps away from him if she promised to play quietly. 

Izza is currently playing hairdresser with her dolls. Their poor heads enduing the torture of her dragging the brush through their hair, a few good chunks coming off here and there. 

“So what do do about-” 

“Fuck!” Isabellas small outburst of profanity leaves the room in silence. All heads turning to the small three year old. 

“Isabella!” You exclaim in shock. 

“That’s a very naughty word,” Jungkook tells his daughter. “Who taught you to say such a word?” 

“Daddy did,” she whispers, eyes lowered in shame. 

Jungkook freezes momentarily, trying to think of a time where she might have heard him say that. 

“Daddy did what?” Jimin asks her trying to hold back a laugh.

Isabella nods and looks at Jimin, “That’s what daddy says when him and mommy are in the bedro-”

“Okay!” You stop your daughter from saying anything else, your had covering her mouth for a second before you remove it again. “I think it’s time for your nap young lady.” 

You pick her up from the floor, and while leaving the room to go upstairs, you can hear the boys laughing and teasing Jungkook about your antics in the bedroom. 

YOONGI

You place the cup of tea in front of Namjoon and he tells you a quick thank you before taking a sip of the hot liquid. 

You take a seat besides Yoongi, taking a sip of your own hot drink. 

Namjoon brought his kids, Jamie and Sofia over for a playdate with Daniel, and its not often the kids really get to play with each other with the boys busy lives, so you take full advantage of the time they can. 

“Do you think they will be okay playing on their own?” Namjoon asks with a hint of nervousness. “The twins are in a mischievous phase at the moment.” 

“I’m sure they will be fine,” Yoongi comments. “Besides, we will be able to hear if they get in to trouble.” 

Half an hour passes in peace, when suddenly a bunch of screaming comes from the play room. 

“What in the-” all three of your jump to your feet and rush to see what all the commotion is about. 

Six pairs of eyes innocently meet you when you enter the room. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. They are all sitting on the floor, toys scattered around them. 

“What is going on in here?!” You ask sternly. “Why are you screaming?”

“We are playing house,” Sofia answers. 

The two boys nod in agreement. “Yes, and Sofia is the mommy and Daniel said that mommy’s scream when they go to sleep.” Jamie says. 

You shock on the air. “What?” You ask in horror and Daniels looks at you. 

“When mommy and daddy goes to sleep, mommy always screams before falling asleep.” 

Next to you, you can hear how hard Yoongi is trying to keep in his laughter. Small chuckles managing to escape before he fully bursts into laughter. 

“Well,” Namjoon comments on a laugh as well.

“Oh my god,” you breath in a fit of embarrassment. 

JIMIN

You love being the host of your family and friend gatherings. You love when everyone comes to yours and Jimin's house for a good meal and a prober laugh. 

You are busy preparing the last touches to tonights meal when the doorbell rings. “Jimin!” You call out. “Can you open the door please?!” 

“Yesss!” He sings as he rushes to open the door. 

“Heeey,” he greets Jungkook an Hoseok with a hug and lets them inside. 

“Are we the first to arrive?” Hoseok asks.

“You are,” Jimin confirms. “____’s in the kitchen, go say hey.” 

Jungkook and Hoseok enters the kitchen where you are, and they slightly startle you when they sneak up behind you to say hello. 

“Sorry,” they both mumble on a chuckle. 

“It’s fine,” you playfully nudge Hoseok's shoulder as Rosie, yours and Jimin's three year old daughter comes storming into the room and goes straight to Jungkook. 

“Kookie!” She yells while he swings her around. 

“Hey you little munchkin!” 

Those two have always had an incredible bond since the day she was born. Jungkook is without a doubt her favorite uncle. 

Rosie puts both hands on his cheeks and looks at him. “I learned a new word!” She tells him proudly. 

You furrow your brows in surprise. This is news to you as well. 

“Really? Let me hear it.” Jungkook cooed. 

“Vagina.” Rosie tells him proudly mispronouncing the word slightly, but it’s very clear what she means. 

You sputter wide eyed at the little girl that just spoke the word. And this is the time where Jimin decides to enter the room, unknowingly. 

“What’s going on?” He asks when he sees three faces of utter shock. 

“Uhh... Rosie learned a new word,” Hoseok hesitantly tells him. 

“Really? What?” 

“No, no! Rosie do not re-”

“Vagina!” Rosie again utters the word, this time at her dad. 

“Rosie!” Jimin scolds. “That is a word we don’t go around saying!” 

“But mommy uses it when she’s talking to you...” she complains.

Rosie shakes in Jungkook’s arms as he begins to laugh at the situation. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment and you can tell that Jimin now finds the situation funny alongside with his band members. 

“This is gold!” Hoseok laughs loudly and the doorbell rings again indicating other guests arrival. 

NAMJOON

For the first time you have brought Jamie and Sofia to the studio to see their dad at work. He has a group session with Seokjin an Yoongi, and you are nervous to bring them along incase they are going to disturb their creative process. 

“Hey daddy,” Sofia immediately jumps into Namjoon's arms while Jamie stays at your side, the shy side of his personality showing when there's a few strangers in the room. 

“Hey kiddo,” Namjoon stands with Sofia in his arms. “Are you not gonna say hi to me?” He directs his question to Jamie. 

You gently urge him forward, and he reluctantly goes but instantly hugs himself around Namjoon's leg, burying his face in the material of his pants. 

“Hey,” you eventually also say, going to give Namjoon a kiss on the lips and to take Sofia from his arms so he can go work. 

You plant yourself on the couch in the corner of the room with the kids as you watch the boys record. It’s Yoongi's turn in the booth and he is rapping into the mic at a fast pace. So fast that it is making you loose your breath... and you are not even the one rapping. 

“Fuck me!” Yoongi exclaims when he messes up on a line. 

You all hear it, and Sofia’s eyes goes wide like she recognizes the bad word. “That’s what mommy says to daddy at night time!” 

Namjoon swirls in his chair like he didn't hear her correctly, “What sweetie?” 

“Mommy always says fuck me to daddy, right Jamie?” she asks her brother who has livened up a bit in the past few minutes. 

“Yes,” he nods in confirmation. 

“That is a naughty word Sofia!” Namjoon scolds. “Never use that word again, okay?” She nods innocently. 

“Okaaay.... I think it might be time for us to go home,” you say in a slight panic. 

“I knew you guys were freaky,” you hear Yoongi say through the mic as you leave with the kids. 

TAEHYUNG

“Jayden!” You call out for him. “Come help set the table please!”

Within seconds Jayden comes running into the kitchen, almost slipping in the process. 

“Slow down there! You know the rule... No running in the house.” Taehyung tells him and hands his three cups. 

“I know daddy, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, just don’t do it again,” Taehyung pats his head, and Jayden walks the cups to the dinner table, carefully setting a cup at each plate. 

Jayden is at the age where he now has small chores around the house, like helping setting the table for dinner clearing his plate, cleaning his room and making his bed etc., and in turn he get small allowances or small presents. 

It’s a system that has worked wonders so far.

From the dinner table a loud crash of breaking glass is heard followed by a small but clear “Shit!” coming from Jayden. 

Both you and Taehyung rush to see what happened. One of the glasses has fallen to the floor, pieces of broken glass scattered everywhere. 

“Jayden, step away from the glass please.” You gently tell him and notice the tears in his eyes. 

Taehyung sees too, “Hey, it’s okay buddy! It wasn't your fault. Come here.” Taehyung spreads his arms and Jayden runs into them, hugging his dad close while you work on cleaning the mess on the floor. 

“It’s not your fault that the glass fell, but that was a bad you said after, okay.” Taehyung tells him. 

“But mommy uses it all the time when you are playing grown up games.” 

Your movements halt as you look at your son engulfed in Taehyung's arms. A smile is threatening to spread on Tae’s face. 

“That, that is because it’s a word only adults are allowed to use,” you quickly inject. 

“Only mommy and daddy can say that word, okay buddy?” Taehyung tells him. 

Jayden nods enthusiastically, “Okay daddy.”

SEOKJIN

Jin is having a long day at the practice studio with the boys, so you and Hailey have decided to surprise them with some food. 

There is currently no music playing from the room so you are guessing that they are taking a small break, and you allow Hailey to burst through the door. 

Once she sees her dad, her eyes light up. “Daddy!” she yells and runs to him. 

Sitting on the floor with a bottle of water, Jin is surprised to see his daughter running towards him, but when he sport you behind her with a bag of food he smiles. “Hey my little princess!” He smiles and hugs her close. 

“I brought food!” You tell them all and wave the bag of goodies in the air. 

They all rush towards the table where you have set the food down. “You are a lifesaver ____!” Namjoon tells you, his hand patting your shoulder. 

“I knew none of you would eat for hours unless it was brought to you... so here we are!” You hand out the different containers of food, the room beginning to smell amazing. “Besides, Hailey missed her dad.” 

Jin bounces the little girl on his hip, her small chuckles filling the room. “You missed me huh?” 

Hailey nods, “Yes! Mommy was being mean.” She pouts and you roll your eyes at her attempt to win over her dad. 

“Was mommy being mean?” Taehyung asks her rubbing her cheeks. 

“She kept throwing her toys outside in the rain after I told her, multiple times, not to do so. So I gave her a time out.”

Again Hailey nods and buries her face in Jin’s shoulder. “Mommy was being an asshole.” 

Both Namjoon and Jimin almost choke on their rice upon hearing that word from her. You eye your daughter with shock. 

Jin sets Hailey down much to her protest, “Hailey, we do not go around calling people that!” 

“B-But mommy calls you that when you are being mean to her,” she pouts, lower lip trembling. 

“Because it’s a grown up word, darling.” You tell her. 

“Say sorry to mommy and give her a hug,” Jin says.

Hailey steps towards you and you bend down to her level. She swings her arms around you neck and mumbles a sorry against your hair. 

“It’s okay, just don’t use grown up words again, okay.” 

“Okay,” she agrees. 

[dancingkirby]

New Short Story

In which Azula tries her hardest to be a good mother despite her PTSD.  WARNING: Reference to past traumatic childbirth and infant death.

“It would appear that you are all clean, Kazuo.  What do you think? Shall we prepare for bed now?”

Azula lifted her son out of the bathtub, making sure to keep a tight grip on his wet and slippery body so the little guy couldn’t squirm out of her grasp.  She shifted him into one arm, where he dampened the fabric of her tunic, although that was okay as the cloth had already been quite wet from Kazuo’s habit of enthusiastically flinging bathwater around.  He was nine months old, after all, and seemingly always in motion, reveling in his newfound mobility.  

He continued to wriggle and babble as Azula got him onto the changing table, toweled him off, and attempted to keep him still long enough to put a clean diaper on.   At the very least, she didn’t accidentally stick him with a pin this time…or get peed on.  After double-checking to make sure that cloth was folded and fastened securely, she began to dress Kazuo in his warmest set of pajamas.  (Even though his winter wasn’t nearly as harsh as the one prior, temperatures were supposed to be below average tonight, hovering just above freezing.)    They both loved this special evening time together, just the two of them.  Kazuo smiled up at her, showing the two new teeth on the top of his mouth.  

“Aaaaa!” he proclaimed.

Azula smiled back, but just then her son turned his face towards the lamp in just the right way to bring out the gold highlights in his eyes, and she was suddenly transported back through the decades to another pair of eyes gazing at her.  However, while Kazuo’s eyes were full of life, the light was rapidly fading from the other pair…

Azula let out a strangled gasp, forcing herself back to the present.  She briefly contemplated calling out for help from Tom-Tom or a servant; however, she decided she wanted to try to get through this herself.  She hurriedly did up the last couple of snaps on Kazuo’s nightwear, and quickly picked him up again, sitting heavily in the rocking chair and taking deep breaths.  Kazuo began to paw at her tunic’s neckline.  They were well into the process of weaning, but Azula decided to let him have his way this time, baring a breast for him.  

As her baby nursed, his cheek brushing the skin over her racing heart, Azula thought.  It had been months since she had a flashback to her first child’s birth and death; to be honest, she had assumed they’d stop after Kazuo was born.  It made no sense to her.  That hole in her life was now filled, so why did her brain continue to torment her so?  

Her little girl. She hadn’t lived long enough to be named, but Azula had been thinking of calling the baby Zaya after Fire Lord Sozin’s first wife if it was a girl.  What would she have been like had she been born whole and lived?  She’d be almost twenty now, and possibly even have a child of her own, although that was less likely these days due to Zuko discouraging teenage marriages at court.  Could she have been as good of a mother then for Zaya as she was now for Kazuo?  Probably not, the cold and realistic part of her said.  Zuko and Mai would have taken custody of Zaya, after all, and she was fairly certain that the mental institution wouldn’t have allowed much contact.  They would have stolen the experience of her child’s early years away from her, kept those precious memories for their own…

All right.  This was going nowhere.  Azula tried to remember her coping skills from therapy. Focus on the moment. Right.  She reminded herself that she was not actually in that horrible sterile basement room bleeding out; she was in her cozy apartments with her baby in her lap. Kazuo had been large for his age since birth, and his weight was solid and reassuring.  His skin was still rosy from the heat of the bathwater.  He had finished with his feeding, since Azula wasn’t producing that much milk anymore, and was sucking on his hand.  And of course, there were the ever-present dribbles on his chin, which she absentmindedly wiped away with one finger.  

“You know I love you, right?” she inquired in a hoarse whisper.  A couple of tears dripped onto Kazuo’s head before she could stop them. “Big lumpy head and all.”

In response, Kazuo removed his now slobber-covered hand from his mouth and reached up, giving her cheek a quite slimy caress.  

He knew.

Azula rubbed at her eyes, and tasted the salt as she kissed the top of his head.  “I thought so.”  She’d tried to bury these emotions for so long, but maybe; hadn’t even mentioned them to Tom-Tom since his initial attempt at proposing marriage.  Maybe now she could finally let herself grieve.

[trillian-anders]

the harlot - ii

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn

word count: 3k

description: harlots inspired au;

one last run before shipping off steve rogers is brought to a brothel to love a woman in case of his untimely demise at war. he meets the reader, young and fresh, not yet tainted by the world they’d been born into. a torrid one night love affair that costs their mother greatly. a promise and years later they meet again, the reader resentful and distrustful. the charming, now captain rogers, seems as captivated in reader as ever. but it’s never meant to be. and you both know that.

The rowhome squeezed tightly between others just like it, sat silent in the early morning hours where most would be beginning their days. Men stepping out onto the street, carriages waiting, or maybe a conversational stroll to their office. Women enjoying the early morning air, crisp and a little damp, but cooler than it would be later as the sun reached its peak and their breath would be stolen by the damp heat.

Houses would start bustling with activity. Maids cleaning and preparing the day’s meals. Baking the day’s bread. Their children would be up and ready for tutoring or screaming over an unshared doll. Fresh linens being placed on beds and chamber pots emptied. In Alexander Pierce’s home it was much different.

The maid still worked, the bread still baked, the chamber pots still emptied. But the rest of the house, it was silent. You hadn’t the energy to get out of bed.

Not today.

Today the walls, a powder blue and gold, were far more interesting than any other social thing you could possibly do. How could you ever get out of bed when Steve was any number of feet away? You’d desperately wanted to see him. But you couldn’t face him.

Not today.

You head was a little foggy from the wine the night before, flinching in the sun as you first opened your eyes, rolling onto your back and stretching out feeling your bones crack and your muscles burn as you arched your back and stretched your legs out beneath your sheets.

Pierce would be gone by now. Far gone at work. He’d leave tonight to go to his country estate, see his wife. You could go out tomorrow, tomorrow would work far better.

You sat in your shift and stockings on your bed. Picking at the plate of meat, cheese, and fruit that had been brought to you. The cup of tea hardly sipped. He was home.

After ten years Steve was home. And you hadn’t even let him speak to you. Not as badly as you wanted him to. As you walked back into the well-lit parlor room with that bottle of wine, you wanted him to grab you. You wanted him to pull you back into the kitchen and kiss you. Apologize. Say that the war kept him away. That you could leave tonight. A whisper against your lips about the English countryside and a carriage waiting.

But that wasn’t your life.

This was. You finger digging into the side of half of the exotic mango Pierce had been so pleased to bring to you. “A sweet and succulent taste, like no other.” He charmed, “Just like you.”

You had money.

You had your own money in a world where no woman could own property. Where no woman could decide anything for their own. As a child you belong to your father. As an adult you belong to your husband. And as a harlot you belong to your master.

The sticky mango was under your fingernails. Sitting back against the headboard as you cleaned them with your mouth you try to forget about the fuzzy peach that Steve dug his fingernails into in the kitchen of your Ma’s house. How you watched the juice drip over his hand. The stickiness on his lips and fingers.

A rough sigh, hitting your head against the wall. Maybe you did need to get out of this house.

No one would look twice, for you’re not a noblewoman, of you pinning your own hair. An easy soft pink dress, thin gold thread. You’d maybe run into your Ma. Maybe run into Peter. If you could manage it.

Peirce’s watchdog at the door. He was the first hurdle. A grim man with a strong jaw and a crooked nose. He would nip at your heels and shepherd you where Pierce wanted. Keep you from exiting when Pierce wouldn’t grant it for you. His leash was tight, but yours was even tighter.

It’s how Pierce kept control.

It’s funny how that this money was supposed to give you power. When Pierce tired of you that you would still get your salary. But it sat unspent in a bank account only he had access to, “You’ll get it when I’m done with you.” He would say. But when would that be? It’d been ten years, you’d hoped he would find himself someone younger, but he liked the practice he put into you, “You’re just the way I want you.”

So, you were stuck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” As if it were a joke. You attempt to walk by him, and he steps before you.

“I’m going for a walk.” He barks a laugh. It is a joke.

“Pierce doesn’t want you to leave the house today.” His arms crossing over his chest. “He wants you to be here when he gets home.”

“And I will be.” You aim to walk around, but his arm shoots out and grips yours tightly, “Brock.”

“Y/N.” A smirk. You wanted to slap him.

“Let go of me.” He shakes his head,

“You’re not leaving.” He liked this. This little bit of power that he finds in telling you no. Like a surrogate Master of the house. When he was simply an employee, just like you, except his work was done with his fists and not on his back.  

“I said I would be back when he gets home,” You attempt to pull your arm from his grip, “Let me leave.”

“I’ll just have to come with you then.”

Brock stayed a step behind, keeping the hair on the back of your neck standing up in wariness and fear. But he wouldn’t do anything out here. Not with all these people. Pierce didn’t like getting his hands dirty, and while the business man ran a prosperous front, good money made real honest on the backs of slaves in various plantations over the America’s, he was a brute of a business man with gambling debts and a monopoly over the racing of horses. It made him impenetrable.

It gave him the means to afford your extravagant employ. The bank records he would wave over your head just out of reach. Brock was his executioner. You’d seen things. Happenings you weren’t supposed to see. Brock’s bloodied fists giving way to someone’s jaw. A man with an uncontrollable vice whose wants outweighed his means. Money. Owed in full. Or else.

Always,

Or else.

It was a truly beautiful day. Tepid but sunny. A little damp, but when was London not? You’d had your route memorized. With the hope that your Ma would be out today. It had been made clear you weren’t allowed back there. Pierce had told you countless times that you didn’t belong there anymore, and you weren’t allowed back. Your feet hadn’t trod on the worn cobblestones of the London underbelly in a long time. You hardly thought now if you were to return that you’d even recognize it.

There was a street, straddling both worlds that allowed you to dip yourself into it. The careful steps of your feet leading you towards it with a prayer that your Ma would be there, taking a slow walk in effort to perhaps see you on these odd moments you’d be able to break out.

Your heart picks up pace as you see her. The curl of her brown hair now streaked in grey. Her fingers fumbling with fruit from a cart, bartering for price. It brought you an instant streak of joy, something hard searched for. Her eyes flickering up to yours with the feel of your gaze.

You remember for a moment how it feels to be held by her. And you wish whole heartedly to have that feeling again. A quick trip across the street and her basket of fruit forgotten as you walk into her arms. A sigh of relief from both. A full rush of happiness feeling yourself wrapped in her, just like you used to be.

“Oh my sweet girl.” You couldn’t cry out here, not in front of these people. But it was shelved and saved for later.

“Ma.” Brock made a gruff noise of disapproval from behind you. Pierce never said anything explicit about you not talking to your family, only that you weren’t allowed back onto those filthy streets. So, Brock would give you time here, before instructing you to move on with the guise that you’d need to get back to the house to await Pierce’s stabbing cock before he goes to the country to be with his frigid wife.

His wife… you couldn’t blame the woman. You’d met her a couple times over the years. You could see how she had been beautiful once. There were portraits in the house an example of her grace and virtue. A soft smile painted on her lips. She was a shell of that now, having buried four children and three in adulthood. She told you once, in a moment of weakness, that she thanks God for taking him from her bed. Drunk with wine and speaking to you plainly, you’d only been with him for a few months then, “I pray for a whore’s sin, but thank God or the blessings they provide.”

“I’ve missed you,” Your Ma, brushing the curls back from your face and taking a shifting glance behind you and her smile dropping a fraction, “Your Pa misses you too.” Guilt, more for the lack of the relationship between you than the position that you’re stuck in. “How are you feeling?” You smile,

“I’m doing just fine Ma,” You squeeze the hands now held in yours, “How’s Peter?” You could hear Brock’s shoe begin to tap against the stone. A clear sign of his impatience.

“He’s grown nearly a foot.” Your Ma laughs, “He’s just about as tall as Pa now… he asks about you all the time.” It breaks your heart to remember the child you left. Your baby brother, five years old when you left to go into Pierce’s employ. How he used to help you put ribbons in your hair and how you would sneak him cakes when Ma wasn’t around. Nearly a man now.

“Maybe next time—”

“We have to go.” Brock gripped your arm, none to gently, “We don’t have time for this, we need to keep moving or you’re going to get us both into trouble.” You look apologetically back on your Ma, her casting a steady glare at his back. You really hated this guy.

A comfortable distance away you rip your arm from his grip, “I rarely get to see her.” Clutching a fist by your side.

“You’re not supposed to see her anyway,” He scoffs, “Be thankful I even let you stop.” You had to try to drown the feelings welling in your chest. They would do no good to you here. A steady breath in and breath out. Save it for later.

A lot of women were out today it seemed. Pushing prams, walking with friends. A few more in your same position taking a stroll as the heat reached its peak of the day. Tolerable, but not comfortable. Peirce would be home soon to take a late lunch or early dinner before beginning the journey out to his country estate. The clock was ticking on.

A surprise on your steps, awaiting your return.

“Captain Steve Rogers,” Brock goes to stand in front of you, greeting the man and holding his hand out for a shake, “Alexander has told me a lot about you.” A tight smile,

“I know I’m a little early—” Brock stops him,

“He should be home shortly; you’re welcome to wait for him in the parlor.” Walking past the large man and to the front door. You give Steve a look of confusion before he stands to the side,

“After you.” You grasp your skirt, lifting it slightly to walk up the stairs, feeling him hot on your back and following you into the home. Brock looks past you and at the man behind you,

“I’ll have the maid prepare some tea, or if you would rather wine or brandy—” His eyes flit to you, “Go to your room, I’m sure he’ll call you when he needs you.” An order. A quiet sigh, you begin up the stairs, turning as you reach the top to look back at Steve, paused in the doorway before the room. You meet his eyes and you watch as his tongue wets his bottom lip before he disappears into the parlor.

Steve must be important for Rumlow to act that way. Fumbling over his words like a child. The excitement you could see in his face when he saw Steve standing on the doorstep. What had Steve been doing all these years? Something that made him a very important man it seemed.

But whatever business he had here with Pierce was no good. It sat bubbling in your belly, you’d realized you hadn’t really eaten that day, but now you didn’t know if you could. You wondered if Steve was working for Pierce in any way. Is that why he was at that party last night? Or was this just coincidence. You wouldn’t let the thought cross your mind that he would be here for you. You refused to even think it. Because he wasn’t.

Pierce invited him here.

That you realized as he joined the two of you for an early dinner. Surprising, seeing as usually before he leaves, Pierce would rut himself against you endlessly until he was spent. But he was getting older now, his cock wasn’t as hard anymore. Less virile.

“I’ve discussed with Barnes about a possible merger between us.” Over his soup, “Once I return, we could have a bit more of a professional meeting—” What did Steve do exactly? His Father was an aristocrat, or at least that’s what you remember him saying. You’d always been under the impression that Steve just had money, as a lot of them do, but Pierce was giving more of an air of nobility. He’d requested roasted duck for supper after all.

You’d avoided his eyes as you dined, being more of a pretty object placed at the table than a conversationalist as much as Steve’s eyes wandered across to yours. The careful means to avoid as Pierce’s fist found your skirt under the table. A promise for after the guest leaves.

“What do you think of the America’s splitting from us?” Steve asked, directing the question at you. It had been an ongoing conversation on the backdrop of current politics. The American Revolution freshly won.

Regardless Pierce’s business wouldn’t suffer. Those slaves he made money on filtered the funds back to him on an endless stream no matter who the country belonged to, “They should have been grateful for what they’ve got.” It was a clear energy that made many in Pierce’s friend group that the Americans were nothing but thieves and members of their own community exiled for crimes. Indentured servants sent to pay back their time.

“No decorum for war.” Pierce continues, whining because they didn’t follow the rules.

“They had no representation here,” As you cut a carrot in two, “It seems only fair to want a say in how much you should be giving to your patriarch, I’m sure if King James were to have given them choice they wouldn’t have wanted to revolutionize.” Pierce laughed,

“The majority of them are criminals or slaves,” His hand squeezes your knee, too tight to be affection, “They’re lucky for what we gave them.” You cast a sigh and a soft smile to him in apology as he let go of your knee. And then a brush under the table. Not from Pierce, but from the man across from you. A carried-on conversation as his ankle pressed against yours. You pull your legs back, out of reach. He doesn’t blink.

He would drift into your thoughts later. Long after Pierce was gone and you were alone in your bed, fingers finding their way between your thighs. A shaky orgasm panted into the sheets.

Life without Pierce around was significantly better than life with him around, granted Brock followed you around wherever you went, but without being able to displease his master your leash was loosened considerably.

“Captain Rogers.” Brock’s childish admiration. The familiar figure on your doorstep for the second time in two days. “You should know that Sir Pierce is gone.” This time as you stepped from your home and not to it. Steve sent cautionary smile at the man behind you,

“Yes, I just assumed since the lady was going to be lonely this week while her master is gone, I offered to keep her some company.” Surely a lie. Pierce was a jealous beast after all, and he wouldn’t willingly agree to let you keep company with someone younger and more abled than he. But Brock was simple, and this man before you had a lot of power. He wouldn’t question it.

“Of course.” A reply as Brock shut the door behind him. Steve turned to face the two of you fully.

“If you wouldn’t mind.” His arm held out to you. “I shall return her in time for supper.” Brock’s brow furrowed,

“I don’t think Sir Pierce would—”

“Then you can take that up with him on his return.” This wasn’t the shy boy you’d met years ago; this man was firm and unyielding. His lie was to go unquestioned, his jaw clenched as he had a silent argument with Brock. Challenge my word, he was saying, and surely there would be consequences.

To be fair, you were torn about wanting to go with him and wanting to walk right back into the house. You didn’t want to do this, truly, but at the same time… You watched his tongue wet his bottom lip and thrum in your core at the sight. A brief memory of peaches. His arm offered to you again, “She’ll return for supper.” And Brock let you go.

A glance back towards him as he glared at Steve’s back.

Brock just let you go.

So how powerful was Steve, really?

[princesskokichi]

korekiyo meeting his baby who looks just like him for the first time| pt. 05

it has beeN COMPLETED :D WHEW I MUST ADMIT THAT I’M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE IN TERMS OF ANGST WITH A GOOD ENDING

ALSO IF U COME AT M E FOR USING THE FANNAME OF HIS SISTER I WILL SCREAM BC HIS SISTER DOESN’T DESERVE A NAME CLOSE TO MINE

( i’m kidding about that,, mostly,,, i won’t scream but i will just be slightly disappointed but u won’t know that because i’ll keep it to myself ) - mod kokichi

- korekiyo knew you were pregnant before you did, to be fair

- you don't know how he knew

- and when you asked, all he said was that he had read up enough about women and pregnancies to know

- but you weren't showing any symptoms up until the day you got checked so you're pretty sure he was bullshitting you somehow

- you just,, didn't know how he was bullshitting you

- and to be honest that's a mystery that you will literally never solve

- during the pregnancy, he would opt for you to learn as much as you possibly could about the history of pregnancy

- he knows you'll be a good parent, and he's not very worried about himself either

- i think he believes very highly in himself and his ability to work with people

- even still, he may refresh himself on how to deal with children with more modern sources

- because let's be honest, people from 1876 britain didn't exactly know how to deal with children perfectly

- so he would have to look up modernized ways to take care of children to balance out what he knows from human past

- that's his way of preparing for a child

- he was really good as well at taking care of you while you were sick !!

- he knew pretty much all the symptoms that would arise before they even showed up

- he took care of you while you were bedridden from pregnancy, as well as reminding you to do your exercises so that everything in the pregnancy went smoothly

- the pregnancy was SUPPOSED to go smoothly

- it,, it didn't

- your child was hella premature, and had complications during the birth

- she was born seven months, two months too early for a typical baby

- as well, you weren't able to dilate correctly and had to opt for a cesarean section

- the worst part, however, was the fact the baby had to go to the  hospital's neonatal intensive care unit

- and you couldn't hold your baby for a little while as it grew, only able to touch it a little bit

- you were sick for the stay at the hospital, and slept most of the time without much to do

- but korekiyo stayed with his baby the entire time

- he opted to sleep with the child

- the entire time he drifted between your hospital room and where the baby was kept

- throughout the night he would make a routine of checking if both of you were still alive but putting his finger up to your nose to check your breathing

- miyadera, his child,,

- please, please live

- he knew that the most possibly outcome was that his baby would live and wouldn't have very many complications in her adult life, if any

- but the fact that he wasn't 100% sure hit a place he wanted to bury deep with him

- he didn't want to lose someone so close to him, not again

- that would be like someone taking you away from him

- he had noticed that miyadera ( i swear i didn't pick that name because it's close to mine. it's the fan name of his sister that i'm repurposing for his daughter because FUCK his sister ) looked almost exactly like him

- the most stunning thing about his daughter being her lovely gold eyes

- he swore he could see a little bit of you in her too, but that's possibly because he's just been staring at her face for a few days straight for now

- the moment he got to hold his baby there were many many tears

- he's not the kind of guy to cry, but he is the kind to show how much he cares

- and the only way he could do that in that very moment while holding his tiny daughter was to embrace her and cry