#honorable non-blonde mentions:

[dasloddl]

What is it with me and blonde fucked up/brain washed characters

(river phoenix als bob gemeint)

[cherienymphe]

His Father's Son

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After the untimely death of his father, Rafe takes it upon himself to become the man of the house.

warnings: NON-CON, STEPCEST, AGE GAP, mentions of major character death, depression, alcoholism, stepmom!reader, underage drinking, canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

⭑

The overwhelming feeling of being watched turned out to be true.

You flinched at the sight of the figure standing next to your bed, eerily still and eerily familiar in the darkness. Reason took over, and your heart started to slow just as quickly as it had started to race. You struggled to move, legs twisted within the sheets as you reached over to turn on the lamp. Sleep was still clinging to you, desperate to pull you back in, but you pushed it away with one look at Rafe’s face.

“It’s 8 o’clock,” was all he said in that tone you had never cared for.

Once his words actually registered though, you swallowed down the mild irritation that had threatened to bubble up. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you blinked, staring at him with parted lips before hurrying to search for your phone. When it bounced out of your unsteady hands and onto the floor, you cursed.

Sliding out of bed, you unfortunately confirmed that it was indeed 8 o’clock.

Now 8:03.

“Shit,” you breathed, pressing your hand to your forehead. “Um…”

You swiped your tongue between your lips, noting how dry they felt.

“Tell Wheezie-.”

“I already took Wheezie to school.”

The teenager’s words surprised you, and your hand fell, staring at him in a mixture of shock and shame. At those words, you finally registered the look on his face, and you found yourself thinking that his tone earlier made a lot more sense. You opened and closed your mouth, fighting to figure out how to respond. Unfortunately, you didn’t come up with anything clever.

“…oh.”

You watched the blond cross his arms over his chest, head tilted with the barest of frowns between his brows.

“I’m sorry,” you finally added, letting out a sigh. “I overslept and my alarm didn’t go off and…”

You found yourself trailing off, hating the sound of your excuses.

You got the feeling that Rafe hated the sound of them too by the even stare he fixed you with. You imagined that he hadn’t planned on dropping Wheezie off to her first day of school this year, and while it was something you both knew he should expect to do sometimes, it was also something he should’ve been asked to do. You couldn’t even remember going to bed the previous night, and you were sure the two bottles of wine you’d consumed had something to do with it.

“Should I anticipate dropping her off tomorrow too?”

There was an edge in his voice that you didn’t like but couldn’t necessarily be angry at.

“No,” you told him, tone sheepish. “I’ll get up on time.”

Rafe didn’t respond, but he also didn’t leave right away. He simply stood there, drinking you in with a frown. There was a look that passed through his eyes that made you think he probably wanted to say something, but if that were true, he swiftly changed his mind. You watched him silently leave, and you resisted the urge to sigh, closing your eyes instead.

When you married Ward Cameron two years ago, it wasn’t for the most honorable of reasons you’d admit. However, the same could also be said for him. After all, what would a forty-year-old man possibly want with a twenty-seven-year-old woman? Probably something equally as superficial as the same reasons a twenty-seven-year-old woman would want to marry a forty-year-old man. With that being said though, you hadn’t actually expected to fall for him. In hindsight, how could you not?

He had never been bad looking, and he was far kinder than you ever expected. Sure, the money and security of a comfortable life were what pulled you in, but after saying yes, you realized that he wasn’t the typical cold and rich husband you expected him to be. Seeing him do his best with his children only made it harder to pretend like it was some loveless marriage of mutual benefit.

You loved him.

…and then he died.

With one boating accident, you were suddenly the single mother of three teenagers. It wasn’t something you were prepared for, and while one was technically an adult, that still left two who weren’t and couldn’t possibly fend for themselves. On top of it all, you still found it hard to get out of bed most days, a problem that wasn’t so bad during the summer.

…but the new term was here, and you couldn’t put your responsibilities off any longer.

Reminding yourself that you’d quite literally drank yourself to sleep the previous night and therefore overslept, you noted that you were off to a bad start. The thought made your eyes burn, the full realization of your new reality hitting you. After Ward died, Rafe was basically the one to take care of everything while you spent most days in bed, but months had passed and summer was over and now your time had come to be a parent.

Resisting the urge to cry, you stumbled to the bathroom, hoping you didn’t look as bad as you felt.

“Did you hear me?”

His voice pulled you out of your own head and you slowly turned to look at him.

“What?”

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, and it was then that you realized he’d probably been speaking to you for some time. You swallowed at the realization, noting that you’d spaced out again, and when Rafe heaved a sigh, you actually felt like the scolded child.

“Sarah’s staying over at a friend’s house tonight,” he told you.

You could feel his gaze on you when you nodded, and deep in the back of your mind you knew that you should’ve asked some follow up questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You’d always trusted Sarah and her judgement—Rafe being the one you and Ward always worried about—and considering the circumstances, you wouldn’t question her on this. In your current state of mind, you were positive she could ask you to smoke a blunt and you’d give her the okay.

You were pulled from your thoughts again by the sound of your name.

You were unsurprised to meet Rafe’s gaze.

You couldn’t place the look on his face, but he seemed like he was deep in thought. Rafe’s behavior and demeanor had taken a 180 after Ward’s death you had to admit. Granted, you supposed that was to be expected, but for some reason it surprised you. Maybe it was because the change was so drastic or maybe because Rafe seemed so set in his ways that it was hard for you to remember that he was only nineteen and still had so much capacity to mature into someone entirely other than what you knew him to be.

Your thoughts on the matter didn’t really matter, you supposed. All that mattered was that he’d stepped up where you’d so clearly dropped the ball, and maybe that was why you found it so hard to snap out of it and be the responsible parent, now. There were days when your grief paralyzed you, and you didn’t feel that nagging obligation to get out of bed because you knew Rafe would handle it.

The blond didn’t say anything, but his thoughts were plain as day as he reached along the counter and slid your drink from in front of you.

“Rafe-.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” was all he drawled, and you found yourself frowning.

“Who’s the parent in this scenario?”

“Apparently me,” he fired back, making your jaw tick. “I’m the one running the business and taking Wheezie to school and making sure there’s actually something to eat in the house.”

You blinked at that, recalling that you couldn’t remember the last time you went grocery shopping. Shame filled you once again, and your gaze lowered, eyes tracing the patterns of the granite. The silence that descended between you was thick, and just when you were about to apologize, Rafe spoke.

“Look, I get that you loved him or whatever, but… So did we…,” your eyes met his at that. “…and Wheezie and Sarah still have to go to school, and I still have to talk to people and deal with contracts and bullshit I didn’t think I would for at least another ten years.”

You realized that Rafe was right, and it made you feel worse because you didn’t think Ward would have married you if he didn’t think you were capable of looking after his children should something happen to him. Yet here you were…letting him down…

Rafe moved from his spot on the other side of the counter, and you only let him when he gently took your arm and forced you to stand. It was a far cry from your dynamic only five months ago. In your defense, you never clicked with Rafe. It wasn’t for lack of trying on your end, but Rafe was so troubled and had so many pent-up emotions and awful drug habits that it only proved to be a breeding ground for disaster.

You could think of too many instances in which you tried to be a parent to him only to be met with the same snarky and cruel demeanor he gave to everyone. He never quite took to you as his new parental figure, and you’d quickly learned that Ward was the only authority he’d respect and listen to. You tended to try and stay out of his way as a result, but Rafe was the one to catch you when you collapsed after getting the news that day.

Overnight, he’d gone from treating you like the ugly stepmother and instead like some injured foal he needed to look out for.

“That’s not healthy,” Mrs. Thornton said to you a few days later.

You watched her set her tea down, lips twisted into disapproval as she marinated on your words.

“You are the parent,” she sternly told you. “It’s your duty to pick up right where Ward left off, and instead you are letting some teenager run things.”

You knew that she was right, but you didn’t exactly relish hearing it.

You had never cared for the older woman, her upbringing influencing the majority of her opinions and stern exterior. However, after the boating accident, you desperately needed another actual adult to talk to. You were out of your element, and everyone knew it, and the first time you sat with her after your husband’s death felt humiliating. Now, however, you practically relied on her to keep your head on straight.

“…but I don’t know how to parent two teenagers all by myself, let alone handle the family business that I was never all that privy to.”

She made a noise at your admission, and it only served to humiliate you further. You had long suspected that she didn’t approve of Ward marrying a significantly younger woman, and by telling her that you weren’t included at all in the important decisions, you only validated her suspicions that you were only ever for show.

You forced yourself to ignore it.

“Their relationship was rocky, yes, but… No one knew Ward like Rafe,” you quietly admitted. “…and Rafe is the only one Ward talked to about all of this. Rafe knows how to make the decisions Ward would want.”

“He’s nineteen,” she scoffed. “Barely older than my own son.”

At your unsure expression, she leaned in closer, brows drawn together and lips pursed.

“You are his parent,” she repeated. “…and the longer you refuse to act like it and let him handle the business and the household and his siblings, he will forget it and start to challenge you in your own home.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Thornton that it didn’t exactly feel like your home anymore. At least not without Ward. While it relieved you that Sarah and Wheezie still treated you as they did before his death, you still couldn’t help but worry that without him around they would soon refuse to take you seriously as a parent. Part of you wouldn’t even blame them.

You’d only been in their life for three years, six months of which you were just their father’s silly twenty something girlfriend. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that they never expected him to actually marry you. Rafe had made that pretty clear when Ward had broken the news with you at his side.

It was a week later when you found yourself knocking on the door of Ward’s study. You supposed that it belonged to Rafe, now, and that correction made your heart clench. Even seeing him in the same spot where Ward often sat made you falter, and it took you a moment to remember why you’d disturbed him. Mrs. Thornton’s words were front and center in your mind.

“We need to have a serious talk about the business.”

At your words, Rafe only tilted his head, and you noted how out of place he looked in Ward’s space. Rafe was so young and everything about him betrayed his mindset and inexperience and impulsive tendencies. He didn’t belong, at all, but who were you to deny him his birthright?

“What about it?” he finally wondered, and you were hyperaware that he was watching your every move as you walked about the room.

“I think that I should be more involved with it,” you told him, continuing at his frown. “Rafe, you’re only nineteen, and like you’d said. You weren’t prepared to be fully involved in this for at least another decade.”

You watched him toss some papers aside at that, and the look he fixed you with made you swallow. It was reminiscent of the Rafe you were used to. You didn’t miss the way he dragged his blue gaze over you, sizing you up, and you definitely didn’t like it.

“You don’t know anything about it.”

The acknowledgement that Ward had never included you in these matters stung, but you only sighed.

“No…but…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe stood, and you had an inkling of what he was going to say by the look on his face.

“Do you even want to be involved in my dad’s business?” he asked you, leaning against the desk with his hands pressed into the wood. “Or are you just listening to Topper’s mom again?”

The blond chuckled at your silence, and it lacked humor.

“My dad left it to me,” he finally said, holding your gaze. “…and I know you think you should be involved because…well…you’re the parent, now…”

You didn’t like the way he rolled his eyes at that, and you blinked when Rafe straightened, nearing you.

“…but you don’t get it.”

Rafe looked between your eyes.

“I disappointed him too much while he was here, and this… This is my chance to make him proud,” he admitted, and your shoulders drooped.

“Rafe…”

“…and not just with his business,” he continued. “He’s gone…so now I have to step up and be the man of the house.”

Despite the fact that you could see where Rafe was coming from, you didn’t necessarily agree. He was too young to be putting so much pressure on himself to follow Ward’s footsteps and make up for his absence. That was your job, and you heaved a sigh, looking down. You’d just started to shake your head when he spoke again.

“Besides…you’re still knocking back…what? Twelve bottles a week?”

You reared back at that, lifting your gaze as he’d already started turning away from you.

“I’m not saying it to be mean,” he assured you, leaning against the desk and intently watching you. “I’m just stating a fact.”

Your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden.

“My dad’s death hit you really hard, and I get it. Mrs. Thornton is telling you that you’re the parent—the adult—and so you need to put me in my place and step into your role.”

You looked away, avoiding his eye.

“…but you can barely function most days, and I treated you like shit on more than one occasion, so…” you reluctantly met his gaze again. “It’s only fair that you let me look after you, now.”

You wanted to tell him that that wasn’t his job, and that more importantly, it should be the other way around. However, he was right. In your condition, you’d screw everything up and drive the whole family into debt. It wouldn’t be like this forever, you knew that, and so you reluctantly agreed that you needed time to get yourself together before you fucked it all up.

You woke up in tears, chest tight as you struggled to breathe.

It wasn’t the first time you dreamed about Ward, but instead of a good dream it was only a memory of that day Shoupe had knocked on your door. You’d felt trapped and panicked as you watched on, telling yourself not to answer it. Somehow, if you didn’t answer it then it wouldn’t be true. He wouldn’t be dead but just…still on his boat…enjoying a long vacation.

The events played out just like they did that day. You’d been able to feel the dread deep in your gut at the look on Shoupe’s face, and you kept screaming at yourself to kick him out of your house, that he had nothing good to tell you. You watched the way your face fell and the way your hands shook, and Rafe had only walked into the room for two seconds before hurrying to grab you when your knees buckled. He’d held you, fighting to calm you down as you wailed…

Much like he was doing now.

“Hey, hey,” you heard him harshly whisper, arms tight around you as he kept you from bucking around on the bed. “Y/N…”

Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to catch your breath, but your choked sobs were coming out too fast to give you any kind of reprieve. You could feel Rafe’s chest at your back as he moved closer, and one of his arms snaked around your neck as he held you in place.

“Is she okay?”

It was only then that you realized the hallway light was on and bleeding into the otherwise dark room. Wheezie sounded worried—scared—and you cursed yourself for doing that to her. You were supposed to be their support, comforting them and providing a safe space during this awful time in their lives, and instead it was the other way around.

You both heard and felt Rafe sigh.

“Yeah, she’ll…she’ll be fine. Wheezie, you should go back to bed,” he told her. “Now.”

You could only assume she listened to him, and Rafe only let you go when your breathing started to slow. You weren’t crying as hard when he laid you back down, and his absence was only felt for a few minutes before the bed dipped again. You felt him put a pill in your hand, and you frowned at it as he pulled you into a sitting position.

“Take this,” he told you, pushing your hand towards your mouth.

“What…?”

“It’ll help you sleep,” was all he said, forcing you to pop it into your mouth, a glass of water being pressed to your lips almost immediately.

In your distress, some slipped past your lips, and Rafe beat you to it in brushing his thumb across your chin. Slowly blinking, you laid back down, and you heard Rafe set the glass of water aside. You naturally thought that he’d leave, but you were surprised to feel his hand on the side of your face, smoothing it over your face and hair.

You really didn’t like that he was taking on a role that should’ve been yours, and after some time, you quietly mumbled an apology.

“I loved him,” you whispered in the darkness, and you felt Rafe freeze. “I know you guys think that I didn’t. I know what you and your friends have probably said about me behind my back.”

You tiredly scoffed, more tears escaping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“…but I loved your father very much, and I wasn’t prepared to do this alone.”

Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move either, and you pressed your hand to your face, feeling the pill taking effect.

“I don’t know what to do,” you choked out. “He was supposed to be here, Rafe, I’m not supposed to do this alone.”

You could feel your chest tightening again, and Rafe shushed you. You could feel your body becoming lighter, and you welcomed it, face relaxing and breathing slowing. Rafe was still next to you, his body so close to yours that you could feel the heat coming off of it. You didn’t have the strength to push his hand away as his fingers grazed your cheek, and after some time you felt him pull the cover over you.

You didn’t feel him move or leave, but you became less concerned about that the more your fatigue grew.

You stared at Wheezie’s hopeful face, chewing on your lip as you contemplated her request.

“Have I met Natalie’s parents before?” you wondered, and you realized your mistake in asking that when her face dimmed.

“I don’t think so, but…dad did.”

You slowly nodded at that, whispering a small ‘right’ before looking away. It was a Friday evening, and in order to make up for your less than stellar behavior, you’d planned to cook and have dinner as a family—something that hadn’t been done in months. However, Sarah’s plans with her boyfriend put a damper on that, and now Wheezie was asking to stay over at a friend’s.

It didn’t seem fair to make Wheezie stay while Sarah didn’t. Granted, Sarah hadn’t exactly asked you, but still. The plan was to have dinner as a family anyway, and without Sarah, that wish was already ruined. The way you saw it, you might as well let Wheezie go, but you didn’t know Natalie’s parents, and so you felt unsure.

Rafe came into the kitchen then, and with one look between you, he deduced that a serious discussion was being had.

“What’s wrong?” he asked no one in particular.

“I’m asking mom if I can sleep over at Natalie’s tonight.”

“…and I’ve never met Natalie’s parents so…”

You watched Rafe chuckle at that, lips curving into a smirk as he moved to taste the vodka sauce on the stove.

“They’re almost as uptight as Topper’s mom, so Wheezie will be in good hands if that’s what you’re worried about,” he told you, tone light.

While that reassured you, you still felt a little down about your plans for the evening being ruined. You got the feeling that it was noticeable, and you flinched a bit when you felt Rafe’s hands briefly come down on your shoulders before brushing past you.

“You can do your family dinner thing another night,” he suggested, shrugging at you. “Sarah won’t be here anyway.”

Wheezie gave you a pouty lip, and you thought it over. If she said that Ward had met them before, and Rafe confirmed that they were indeed trustworthy, then you didn’t see why not. Even still, you unintentionally found yourself looking to Rafe, and when he gave you the barest of nods, you smiled at the thirteen-year-old.

“Okay,” you breathed, and she jumped up with her phone in hand.

“Natalie’s mom is picking me up,” she threw over her shoulder, hurriedly heading for the stairs.

You were happy to see her coping better with things, so you tried to focus on that instead of the fact that you’d be eating alone. Turning back to the stove, you turned the dial down to a simmer, half expecting Rafe to be gone when you turned around. He wasn’t, and you didn’t miss the way he eyed you as he leaned his arms on the counter.

“Let me guess, you have plans too? It’s Friday, and that usually means you’ll be out somewhere with Topper and Kelce.”

The crooked smile on his face was mocking as he peered up at you from beneath his lashes.

“It’s family dinner night.”

You only rolled your eyes at that, turning away from him.

“You’re nineteen, Rafe. I don’t expect you to turn down plans with your friends just to stay home and sit across from your stepmom,” you sighed. “You can go, it’s fine.”

“You and I both know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he said, something you silently agreed on. “I want to stay.”

When you looked at him again, you were surprised to find him standing much closer, now. You hadn’t even heard him move nor realize just how close his voice was. You couldn’t place the look on the blonde’s face as he stared at you, and you watched him reach up to grab a plate.

“Why?” you chuckled.

Despite how nice he was being now, you both knew that it was only the case because of Ward’s death. Rafe had never cared for you, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to get as far away from this house as possible. You felt like Rafe’s thoughts were probably mirroring your own, something passing through his gaze that looked a lot like confusion.

“…because you loved him. Probably more than me,” he shrugged.

You frowned because you didn’t agree with that, at all, and you told him so.

“I think there are very few people who can love someone as much as a son loves his father.”

You threw Rafe a small smile, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm.

“…and you did love him, Rafe. Sure, you guys fought worse than teenage sisters at times,” you breathed, frantically blinking at the memories. “…but that’s just because he wanted the best for you, and you had your own problems that didn’t stop you from disappointing him.”

You tilted your head at him when he looked away.

“You idolized him, and all you wanted was to make him proud. It made things very complicated, but please don’t ever say I loved him more than you did.”

When Rafe looked at you again, there was a deep frown on his face, and for some reason, you felt very small beneath his stare.

“…but you did,” he said with a small shrug, gesturing around. “I mean, look at you.”

You blinked.

“You have to be medicated just to get some sleep, and you still don’t remember staring at the wall for days after he died.”

You felt a chill pass through you at his words, hating how much you’d let them down, but also because there was something about the way Rafe stepped towards you and held your gaze that you didn’t think you liked. It made an unsure feeling twist deep in your gut for some reason.

“So, no. I don’t want to go anywhere with Kelce and Top, not when my dad’s wife is one bad day away from a psychotic break,” he whispered. “He would want me to take care of you.”

His words were reminiscent of the same ones he’d spoken to you in Ward’s study that day, but unlike that day, today they made you feel uneasy, and you didn’t know why. You dropped your hand, taking a step back from him just as Wheezie’s voice reached your ears.

“Natalie’s mom is outside, I’ll text you when I get there,” she called as she ran through the house.

Your voice cracked when you told her to have fun, but you didn’t think she heard, the door slamming shut mid-sentence. Forcing yourself to turn away from Rafe, you grabbed a plate with shaky hands, Mrs. Thornton’s words echoing in your mind that Rafe’s new role in the household wasn’t healthy.

“I swear I’m not doing it to be a bitch, okay?” Sarah’s voice reached your ears. “It’s just really hard to be around her without thinking about dad.”

You swallowed at her words, taking a step back on the stairs,

“Especially when it’s obvious just how hard she’s taking it,” she said. “I mean, she’s a little better, sure, but those sleeping pills you give her aren’t doing a thing. She’s not tired, Rafe, she’s depressed.”

“Well, you’re making her feel like shit,” you heard him reply, a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard in quite some time. “This is the fourth dinner you skipped out on for your Pogue boyfriend.”

The younger girl didn’t respond right away.

“I’m sorry,” you heard her eventually say. “When did you start caring about her anyway? Weren’t you the one who called her some gold-digger, saying she was coming for your spot in the will?”

That didn’t shock you nor hurt you, long imagining that Rafe had said far worse. You heard him heave a sigh, and it sounded angry.

“Dad’s gone, Sarah, and that means we should stay together as a family,” he sneered. “…and I’m doing what I can to make that happen.”

You heard a slight scuffle, and you hurriedly made your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. It had been some time since you heard Rafe and Sarah fight, something you definitely didn’t miss, but considering the topic of this discussion, it didn’t surprise you that it was a little more emotionally charged than normal.

When you rounded the corner, Rafe had a tight grip on Sarah’s arm, the younger girl trying to leave with her purse in hand. The expression on his face was unnerving, a deep frown between his brows with his lip curled over his teeth a she got in her face.

“Things are going to be different, now.”

“Rafe.”

Sarah’s eyes were wide and terrified when she looked at you, relaxing a bit at your presence, and you were relieved when Rafe let her go. Sarah only briefly acknowledged you on her way out, desperate to get away from Rafe, and you watched the way he glared after her.

“Rafe, it’s fine,” you told him. “She’s allowed to hang out with her friends for whatever reasons she wants, especially now.”

“Are you going to use that excuse forever? Just because dad died it doesn’t mean that she can do whatever she wants,” he snapped, gesturing towards the door.

“She’s grieving!”

“She’s using it as an excuse to be a shitty daughter, and you’re just letting her.”

You reared back at both his words and his tone, and for the first time in months, you felt something like anger bubble up in your chest.

“It’s not your place to tell me how to raise her. She’s not your daughter,” you spat.

The small laugh that he let out lacked humor, and by the look on his face, you knew that there was something on the tip of his tongue that you would hate.

“Yeah, well, she’s barely yours.”

You could tell that he wanted to take it back almost as soon as he said it, and you pressed your lips together just as he touched his forehead.

“Fuck, that’s not…”

His words trailed off, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You were only thirteen years older than Sarah and knew her for all of three years, so it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same at times, but it still hurt to hear. It’s like Rafe was voicing your worst fears that she would come to lack respect for you and your presence in her life as a mom.

You didn’t know how to do this…and everyone knew it.

“I just feel like…you’re treating her like dad did, letting her get away with everything, and I hate it,” he slowly said.

Rafe’s feelings about Sarah had never been a secret, and neither had Ward’s. You wouldn’t ever deny the fact that Ward favored her, and it was unfortunately noticeable, something that was always visibly distressing for Rafe. With Ward gone—and with Rafe feeling like he now needed to be the man of the house—this made for a very complex situation.

You couldn’t tell what was rightful concern and what was just Rafe wanting to put Sarah in her place, something he’d never been subtle about.

“I wasn’t expecting to be left raising teenagers by myself before I was even thirty, Rafe,” you finally replied. “I’m trying…”

“I know you are,” he hurried to say, quickly approaching you and reaching for you. “That’s why I’m trying to help.”

You backed away from him before he could touch you, and you didn’t miss the way his expression clouded over at that. Looking away, you swiped your tongue between your lips, choosing your next words carefully. You could feel his heated gaze burning a hole into your face.

“I get that you’re trying to help, and believe me when I say I’m so appreciative of it, Rafe, but… It is not your place,” you carefully said, looking at him again.

You watched him roll his eyes towards the ceiling, nodding to himself. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and when his gaze fell back to you, you immediately knew that you didn’t like it. Rafe’s nostrils flared, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that your words had bothered him, no matter how carefully you chose them.

“What you mean is you’re the parent, I’m not, and I need to stay in a child’s place.”

You sighed at that.

“Not necessarily, I just-.”

“…because if that were true, who would’ve driven Wheezie to school on the mornings when you couldn’t even get out of bed?”

You didn’t appreciate him throwing that in your face, and by the look in his eyes, you could tell he wasn’t done.

“You want me to stay in my place, but I’m the one who made the funeral arrangements and answered the important questions and kept this house together when the woman our dad married was too grief stricken to even stand on her own two feet.”

You bit your tongue, warily eyeing him as he moved to stand directly before you.

“Dad died, and I stepped up. Not you…me,” he firmly told you. “…and now that you’re sort of kind of getting your shit together, you just want to pretend like I should have no say in any of this.”

You didn’t like how close Rafe was, but when you went to take a step back, his hand shot out to dig into your arm, preventing you from doing so. You winced at the tight grip, and you swore you saw his face soften some at the sight. His grip certainly did, and you almost wished that it didn’t because the gentle way he held your arm and the gentle way he looked between your eyes made you deeply uncomfortable.

“Someone has to be the man of the house, now…and it falls to me,” he whispered.

You didn’t even have a proper response for that, feeling wholly unnerved as you stared at one another, and you took a deep breath.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you quietly said.

You were relieved when he listened, almost convinced that he wouldn’t, and you touched your arm with a step back. You studied his face, searching for what? You didn’t know, but again…Mrs. Thornton’s words would not leave your mind, and you hated the way your lips trembled.

“Do not touch me like that again.”

Your tone was even, but you were sure your eyes betrayed you because Rafe merely raised an eyebrow at you.

“Or what? You’ll send me to my room?”

Your heart sank at his mocking words and the subtle challenge in them, and despite how much nicer Rafe’s next words were, they didn’t make you any less uneasy.

“I’m just trying to do right by my dad and look after everything he left behind.”

His words seemed innocent enough, but for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder just what that entailed exactly and what role he expected to play in this family. You didn’t want your mind to linger on something that couldn’t be true, and so you left him without another word.

The feel of a hand shaking your shoulder is what pulled you from sleep, and it took you a long time to peel your eyes open. Doing so felt difficult for some reason, and when you exhaled—smelling the wine on your breath—you realized why. Rafe’s face was the one that met you, and you immediately squeezed your eyes shut.

“Y/N,” he gently said. “It’s late.”

As he said this, you realized that you were on the couch, and it didn’t take you long to surmise that you’d fallen asleep there. You didn’t want to move, but you also didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the couch, knowing you’d regret it the moment you stood up in the morning. Just when you were about to mumble to Rafe to leave you be, you heard him sigh before feeling his arms slide underneath you.

In an effort to keep from falling, you quickly held onto him.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, disapproving.

“Wheezie has friends coming over in the morning,” you were barely able to make out. “I don’t think their moms would appreciate stumbling upon you asleep and hungover on the couch.”

He chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs.

“They already don’t like you…”

You merely hummed at that, and you were relieved when you felt yourself being deposited onto the bed. Rafe was saying something else to you, but none of it registered as you sought out sleep once again. Your intentions were interrupted though when you felt a hand on your face, and even in your inebriated state, you knew it didn’t feel right. Forcing your eyes open, you struggled to push Rafe’s hand away.

“I just want to make sure you don’t throw up in your sleep,” he mumbled when your eyes blearily met his. “Is that okay?”

You drunkenly blinked at him, lips trembling.

“Why don’t you call me ‘mom’?”

Your question was whispered, voice shaky, and as much as you wanted him out of your bedroom, you also wanted him to answer the question. The house was quiet, both Wheezie and Sarah asleep, and the only light was that of the light in the hall. You didn’t take your eyes off of Rafe as you waited for him to answer no matter how much you wanted to.

In the low lighting, you could see the way his dirty blond hair hung onto his forehead, the light glinting off of his blue eyes.

“I never have,” was his response.

“Well, maybe you should,” you forced out. “I don’t want you saying my name anymore.”

You didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared at that.

“Why not?”

“…because I don’t like it,” you confessed, tears kissing your eyes. “Not anymore.”

His face fell a bit at the way your voice cracked, and when he reached for you again, you hurriedly sat up.

The silence was loud as you just stared at each other, something unspoken passing between you. You felt like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin whenever he so much as looked at you, now, thoughts running wild with what you prayed to be untrue. His stony expression told you that they weren’t, that he’d been found out, and in your drunken state, you couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over.

When he reached for you again, it startled you right off of the bed.

The night stand shook as you fell against it, and you cried out in pain just as Rafe cursed. You didn’t want his help, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t need it as he hurried to reach you. The feel of his hands on you burned and not in a good way, causing you to flinch away from his touch. That didn’t deter him though, and his grip was tight as he kept you in place, his other hand reaching for your head.

“Did you hit your head? Are you-?”

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, shoving at his chest, and Rafe grew quiet.

The only sound for a while was your soft sobs, and Rafe’s refusal to leave you alone kept him kneeling before you. When you tried to stand up, he ignored your protests, reaching out and helping you. You swayed, and Rafe kept you close much to your chagrin. You wanted him gone as soon as possible, so you were quick to sit back down, but Rafe didn’t let your waist or your hand go.

Swooping down, he captured your lips in a kiss.

You wanted to gag.

His hand was almost painfully twisted around yours, making you wince, and every attempt to scoot back was only met with the resistance of his hand on your waist. Your stomach churned as he moved his mouth against yours, wanting to be sick at the feel of him kissing you on the same bed where Ward used to sleep. When his fingers dipped beneath your shirt, you bit him.

Hard.

You took the moment to remove yourself as he cried out, hurrying towards the bathroom and locking yourself inside. That awful sick feeling wasn’t as hollow as you thought, your knees hitting the floor almost as soon as you made it inside, head bent in the toilet. You couldn’t stop crying as you emptied your stomach, throat scratchy from the alcohol that was coming back up.

When you were able to catch your breath, you were shaking. You could still feel Rafe’s lips on yours, and on top of everything else you were forced to deal with in the months following your husband’s death, this was the last thing you’d ever anticipated.

You’d slept on the bathroom floor that night, refusing to leave and face Rafe. If Sarah and Wheezie noticed the tension between the two of you, they didn’t comment on it or at the very least, not to you. The knowledge that Rafe wanted to take Ward’s place in every facet of the household made you sick, and while neither of you mentioned that night, it also felt clear between the two of you that it wouldn’t be ignored forever.

You wanted him out of the house.

…but that wasn’t your place, was it? Rafe had more of a right to all of this way more than you did, and you couldn’t be the one to leave. Rafe may have been nineteen and an adult in the eyes of the law, but no matter how much of a 180 he’d done, you couldn’t trust him to properly raise Wheezie and Sarah. Especially now that you knew his 180 had less to do with just wanting to be a better person or more about taking on the role Ward had played in every way.

You shuddered at the thought, and oddly enough, this tempted you to drink yourself into a stupor more than Ward’s death ever did.

You and Rafe were ten years apart, so seeing him like a son had always been hard at times, but it didn’t stop you from treating him like one in the years that you’d been with his father. You’d liked to think that the sentiment was returned, and maybe at one time it had been, and maybe after Ward’s death things just…changed.

Was this your fault?

Had you dropped the ball so hard that he couldn’t even bring himself to see you as a parental figure anymore? Did he stop trying to respect you as one or…? Or did it have to do with how much he’d had to take care of you? You didn’t treat him any different, talk to him any different, so maybe you hadn’t done anything to change his perception of you.

Even if you had…what could you possibly have done to make him see you as a potential partner?

As if your nights weren’t bad enough—haunted by memories of Ward and that day you’d been told he was dead—you were now also kept awake by the knowledge that your stepson very much wanted to fill the void left by his father. And maybe if Rafe were anyone else, you could’ve talked about this, tried to sort through this, but Rafe was Rafe, and you reminded yourself that the Rafe you were accustomed to had only disappeared less than six months ago.

…and you’d seen hints of him just peeking from below the surface.

You resisted the urge to drink these days, positive that one sip would have you spiraling. You didn’t know how to cope with this new development, but you knew it couldn’t be that way. It didn’t go unnoticed that the night Rafe kissed you, you’d been drunk out of your mind, completely vulnerable to him. You also couldn’t bring yourself to take anymore sleeping pills, recalling Sarah’s words that day as she’d told Rafe that you were depressed…not tired.

She was right.

…and so despite the difficulty, you forced yourself to try and sleep without medication night after night. It was hard for several reasons, the most pressing of which being the unnerving presence of the nineteen-year-old just down the hall. It made it hard to find sleep most nights, and on the nights in which you did, you still do so with only maybe four hours to your name.

It was noticeable.

“I can stay and help, you know. It’s just John B., and he’ll understand why I’m late,” Sarah offered.

You could see by the look on her face that she was worried about you, and despite your attempt, you knew that your reassuring smile didn’t convince her.

“Sarah, it’s a Saturday night,” you told her. “I’m not going to make you stay and help me clean the kitchen, especially when you helped me cook and stayed for dinner.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but decided against it.

“Yeah, I’m glad I did.”

Her tone told you that she was feeling bad about the other dinners she’d skipped out on, and you were proven right.

“I’m sorry about not staying for all the others and…basically avoiding you,” she quietly apologized. “It’s just that Ward cared about you a lot, and when I’m around you, it’s easy to see why…and it just makes me think about him.”

You only exhaled at that, letting out a small chuckle as you washed the dishes.

“You don’t have to apologize, Sarah. I get it,” you whispered, pausing. “I miss him too.”

“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole, but Rafe was kind of right in confronting me over my behavior.”

The mention of Rafe had your hairs standing on end, and you swallowed down a sigh, still unsure what you were going to do about the blond.

“There were better ways for him to get his point across…”

Sarah only found that funny, softly laughing to herself.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t be Rafe if he didn’t be rude about it, so,” she trailed off, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll be back before 1.”

You hummed at that, letting her know that was okay, and it was only ten minutes later that you were alone. Wheezie went to a sleepover just after dinner, and Rafe hadn’t been home all day. Before where that would have concerned you, now you could only be relieved to get some reprieve from the oldest Cameron. God knows that you needed the space to think.

Going over every scenario in your mind, the best one seemed to be to hope that it would just go away. You didn’t want to find yourself in some sort of legal battle if you even attempted to kick Rafe out and basically bar him from his own home. Legality of it all aside, it just wasn’t morally right. This was where he grew up, his safe space, and you couldn’t even pretend to feel comfortable at the thought.

The other option just wasn’t even an option. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t just pack up and abandon Wheezie and Sarah. Never mind the fact that you’d been in their lives for three years now, but now more than ever they needed stability. Their father only just died, and what kind of person would you be if you decided you just didn’t want to be responsible for them anymore? Allowing Rafe to run you off wasn’t an option.

Besides, there was a tiny and terrifying voice in the back of your head anyway that said he wouldn’t even let you.

It was an hour later that you found yourself in bed after cleaning the kitchen and taking a bath. You needed the soak, needed to do whatever you could to relax you. It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but considering how hard sleep was for you to find lately, you figured there was no harm in letting your head hit the pillow early.

Maybe you could trick your body into going to sleep at a decent time.

The minutes dragged on and were made to feel like hours, but the silence of the house and the fact that you were alone did more wonders than you thought. You could feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and what little sounds you could make out from outside slowly started to fade. The last thing you recalled was your body feeling heavier…

…and then you were standing in front of Shoupe, and he was telling you that Ward was dead, and you couldn’t even stand on your feet anymore.

You sat up with a gasp, struggling to breathe, and by the way your vision blurred, you knew that you’d been crying in your sleep. There was a voice in your ear shushing you, and despite the fact that you knew who the hands on your arms belonged to, your mind was too preoccupied with painful memories to fully register it.

Rafe pulled you against him, holding you to him as you sobbed, thinking to yourself that it had been a few weeks since you’d had a really bad reaction. You shook in his hold, head bowed as you wailed, and you were momentarily grateful that the house was empty. The blond rocked you, forcing you to press your face into the crook of his neck, and it was only then that you registered the smell of alcohol.

Before you could gather yourself to ask Rafe where he’d been, his hands were clumsily grasping at your face.

You sharply inhaled when he kissed you…again. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, and you were so distraught that it took you too long to realize what was happening. The kiss was hungry, Rafe tasting the inside of your mouth and kissing you in a way that might’ve taken your breath away under different circumstances.

As it were, you could only register that you were being kissed by your deceased husband’s son again. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably, and your efforts to reach up and pull his hands away from your face were futile. You made a noise of protest, attempting to lean away, but he ignored it. Even when you bit at him like before, he ignored it.

With horror, you realized that Rafe wasn’t stopping it.

Panic began to set in, and when you shoved at his chest, he quickly reached to close his hand around your wrist. At the same time, he leaned into you more, forcing you back, and you didn’t put your hand down in time to prevent that. With him now on top of you, your heart was threatening to leap from your chest.

“Rafe,” you gasped when he pulled away. “Rafe, stop!”

Your voice came out panicked and shrill, but instead of listening to you, the sounds were only joined by that of your shorts ripping.

“He would want me to look after you,” he drunkenly murmured, making your stomach drop.

You both fought for the right to your shirt, you trying to keep it on and Rafe trying to take it off. You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack, telling yourself that this wasn’t happening. In the worst way possible, you discovered that Rafe was much stronger than he looked, feeling like you got the wind knocked out of you when he roughly shoved you down after your attempt to sit up.

You could hear yourself crying, and you knew that Rafe could too.

With a hand tightly snaking around your throat, his other fumbled to get his own pants off. Focused on trying to breathe, you reached up to pull at his hand. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and your chest felt tighter than it did when you first woke up from your nightmare. His lower half was pinning you down, and the blood you could feel yourself drawing on his hand and arm didn’t slow him down.

He was shushing you when you felt his skin against yours, and one of your hands twisted into his shirt as he started to push himself into you. The feel had your feet stretching, and you let out a choked sound despite the pressure on your throat. He was torturously slow in stretching you out around him, and with every further push of his hips, you clawed at his shirt some more.

He only let your neck go when his hips were firmly pressed against yours.

As you coughed and wheezed, he reached behind his head to pull the fabric off, tossing it somewhere without a car. The moment his chest was bare, he reached for you again despite your difficulty to breathe, and his lips covered yours in another kiss. You didn’t even have time to register the kiss because he was thrusting into you with abandon. His hips were wildly snapping against yours, and you gasped into his mouth.

Rafe searched for your hands, threading his fingers through your own and pinning it against the bed next to your head. His other hand was digging into your hips, kipping them in place as he fucked you. You struggled to catch your breath, sharply inhaling and gasping with every thrust. The stretch was unfamiliar, and your mind spun with the fact that you hadn’t experienced this in months and also who it was with.

When Rafe pulled his lips away from yours, you let out a sob, and he gently shushed you, curving his hips into yours.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured in the darkness. “It’s okay.”

You had so much you wanted to scream and shout at the blond, but you couldn’t even find the words. With every feeling of his cock sliding against your walls, your eyes rolled. His head fell next to yours, his heavy breathing in your ear as he pinned you down with his entire body. You weren’t able to move, only forced to lie beneath him and feel what he was doing to you.

He grunted in your ear with a particularly hard thrust, and you let out a yelp.

Just then, you heard the door open downstairs, and hearing it too, Rafe stopped. He was quick to cover your mouth with a hand, and he was completely still as you heard who you surmised was Sarah coming up the stairs. Your heart was so heavy in your chest, and it was all you could hear in your ears.

When she made it to the hallway, she stopped.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” she called.

At that, Rafe pressed down harder on both your mouth and you, and after a few moments, you heard the younger girl sigh. When the sound of her room door shutting reached your ears, Rafe kept his hand on your mouth, but he felt compelled to keep fucking you.

He was slow in doing so, now, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

He slowly dragged his cock in and out of you, pulling his hips back until just the tip remained—sometimes pulling out completely—before pushing back in and making your chest arch up into his. He quietly told you that it was okay, softly groaning as you unintentionally squeezed him. Rafe’s lips brushed against your neck and jaw, and now that the two of you were no longer alone, the room was deathly quiet.

So quiet that you could hear the sound of his cock plunging into you.

It was a sound that embarrassed you, a sound that made you want to cry. Rafe’s arms trembled as he fought to keep himself from just relaxing on top of you completely, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he uncovered your mouth, you wouldn’t even scream. You would be too ashamed to let anyone know what Rafe Cameron was doing to you.

With his lips at your neck, you could feel them move as he talked.

“My dad’s gone…”

The mention of Ward in this moment made more tears spill over, and when he slowly removed his hand, you let out a shaky breath as you silently cried. Lifting his head, Rafe’s gaze found yours, his hips still slowly pushing against yours.

“…and I know that it’s killing you, but…”

He swallowed, looking between your eyes.

“…but you have me, now,” you let out a soft cry at that. “You do, and I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”

His hand reached up to touch your face, the tips of his fingers grazing your wet cheek. You shook your head, feeling like you were going to be sick, and Rafe only shushed you. His lips followed yours as you attempted to turn your head away, and you could taste your tears in the kiss.

“I’ve got the business…I’ve got the family ring…” his lips moved against yours as he spoke into the kiss. “…and I’ve got you.”

[padawansuggest]

Annnnnyways, no Empire AU where Agent Kallus is actually Padawan Kallus (he was found a bit late and Kenobi threatened to make him his new padawan if they didn’t let him in the creche so the council got flashbacks and allowed him in the creche and told Kenobi to go make Reva his Padawan instead cause they cannot handle another blonde child at Kenobi’s side rn) because he’s a fair bit force sensitive and Kenobi found him in a dumpster someone threw Kenobi into so now he’s 22 and has a nice Wookie master and on a trip to Lasan when Alexsandr meets the honor guard Captain Garazeb who compliments him on his nice mutton chops since it’s very hard for humans that young to grow hair on their faces that nice and Kallus blushes and mentions he might have some non-human ancestry in there while twirling his braid around his fingers and they talk and get to know each other and maybe exchange comm codes and talk daily and it’s not a crush master he’s just VERY NICE and pretty and sweet and beautiful and ITS NOT A CRUSH- it’s a crush. Anyways. Maybe he should become the Lasan ambassador between them and the Jedi, that sounds like a totally logical decision right there he thinks. He just likes the jungle they live in and the cubs that run about is all, he’s just being helpful-

[ashenquill]

It's time to info dump about my character headcanons some moreeeee I love spreading my agenda on the internet hehe

Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo is one of those ambiguous types where you can't tell if he's actually a hybrid or not? Like, there's something a little bit... off about him. Something distinctly non-human. Also he's a really weird guy, which makes even less sense, because at this point hybrids are like 60% of the population, and nobody bats(ha) an eye at them anymore, so it's not like he needs to hide it. But he is, in fact, secretly a vampire. Or at least, he's 1/16th vampire or something like that. He just remembers this one guy named Vlad who he refused to believe was actually his great-grandpa because he's literally, like thirty? How on Earth would he have been old enough to father children with children with children? Mumbo started believing it when he saw him again ten years later and he hadn't changed in the slightest. Suddenly, the strict nobody open the curtains rule made a lot more sense.

Now, even though Mumbo is technically a vampire, his family is primarily human. The only reason they even have vampiric origins is because Great-grandpa Vlad got turned at the ripe age of 27, and wasn't about to abandon his wife over his new and very serious garlic allergy. She thought it was all one big prank he was pulling to get out of working on the farm, but after twenty years and seven kids, she realized that being a stay-at-home dad was definitely not taking the toll it should.

Mumbo and his immediate family have retained a few of the traits they inherited from Vlad, but it manifests in very mild coincidences. His mom is allergic to garlic and his dad has a strange Scarland-Princess-like affiliation with bats. Mumbo, meanwhile, really got the short end of the stick, as he can't expose his shoulders to sunlight without them miraculously burning (he's gone through more bottles of M-77 brand sunscreen than he'd care to quantify). Not to mention the insomnia! He'd be lucky to get two hours of sleep on an average night, and the fact that the only affect it really has on him is making his eyes look baggy is truly an injustice. Wasn't insomnia supposed to cause other serious health problems? How could he even complain about it if he wasn't constantly overtired? Rather inconvenient, that.

Don't ask my why I have so much lore for this guy when I don't even write him that often. It's just the Mumbo Jumbo allure, I guess

Here's some other fun facts:

Smells like iron/copper (metallic)

Book smart - special knowledge of redstone

Likes: cloud gazing, embroidery, old westerns/duels/guns, rubix cubes (only to look at though, bro can’t solve them for shit)

Dislikes: designing floor plans, social interaction, eye contact

Passions: philanthropy, travel

Habits/other details: Super fidgety like holy shit he never stops moving, picks at his nails and has lots of scabs & hangnails bc of it, he is littered with cuts and bruises of unknown origin, also usually covered in redstone & he mistakes his blood for it half the time, can’t tell if he’s ADHD, ASD, or both (deffo both)

Reactive to their environment - does not like to be around danger most of the time, would rather watch from afar, would rather not even watch tyvm, too bad he’s always a victim, #easytarget, your honor he’s just a wet cat

Special, plot-relevant skills: good w/ redstone, rich asf

Insomniac, also has RLS, always tired but it’s not very obvious, mostly just has dumb blonde moments, his intelligence would be 10% more if he actually slept, what the heck Vlad why'd you have to get bit by a vampire

[bjornswoman]

Nemesis's wish

Author's note: Hello everyone! I'm back with this fic which is my favorite so far. It was supposed to be shorter but eventually it couldn't, so this isn't the end about these two characters. This fic is the first of a trilogy (hopefully). Anyway, thank you for your support and till next time stay safe and have fun.

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader.

Genre: Mini!series, drama, angst, slight romance.

Summary: You were forced to marry a man you despise.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating and pregnancy, mentions of divorce, jealousy and strong language.

My enemy and me masterlist |

Life had always been a challenge for you. And your wedding couldn't be any different. The worst part of it was that your husband, the man you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with, was horrible and you hated him.

Well, horrible wasn't a word people would use to describe Ubbe Ragnarsson. They preferred to call him loyal, reasonable, honorable and names like these, but for you he was horrible. A man you were forced to waste your life on his bloody side.

Your relationship was almost non-existent. Ubbe tried to have a deal with you or even approach you somehow but you wanted nothing with him. So he was never around the house.

You knew that he had affairs with other women, something that he had never admitted. It worked for you until you were with child. His child. It was a miracle that it happened. You almost couldn't believe it but it was the truth. After all, people were talking about you two and this child came to end the rumors around your marriage.

You hated Ubbe but you loved more than anything and anyone in the world your son. He was blonde and his eyes had the same blue as his father's. He resembled him a lot but you didn't care. Your baby was so peaceful, unlike his father and his brothers who were always too loud.

Thankfully for you, most of the year he was not around the town, because he was raiding in the spring and was back in the winter. The unlucky part was that winter was approaching and that meant that Ubbe would be back within some days.

It was like your son had notice your moody self all these days and he was upset as well. He would cry all time and he wouldn't sleep easily, like usual.

Your hands were wrapped around the toddler and you brought him on your lap trying to calm him down.

"Come on baby. Relax please. Just do it for mummy please." You muttered to your son as you tried to calm him down. You stood up from the bed, walking through the room holding the baby on your hands.

You didn't understand that somebody was watching as you were whispering to your son his lullaby. The one you sang every night. The one which could only calm him down, but lately even this specific one couldn't work on him.

"Here, give him to me. He will be delighted when he will see me." Said the guy coming out of the shadows, scaring you so much that you clenched the poor baby on your breasts. You turned your face and saw the person you didn't want to see at all.

Ubbe was standing next to you waiting to have his son. You wouldn't let him lay a hand on him, but you did when you saw the little boy smiling at the sight of his father.

"I thought you wouldn't be back until next week. You came quite early." You were saying as you were placing the boy on his hands. When the baby was on his hands, you took some steps away and placed your hands in front of your chest.

Ubbe's blue eyes were on his son smiling and playing with him. When you finished talking, his eyes left the baby who was almost sleeping on the hands of his father and turned to you. Eyes as blue as you had never seen them before, as beautiful as never before. Or you had never noticed them like that before.

A smirk formed on his face before he started his own words.

"Much to your displeasure, we managed to raid the Christian cities in less time and we decided to come back before the first snowflakes fall." He replied to you and left the sleepy baby on its crandle. The direction of his face returned to you and he placed his hands before his chest, as you did before. You were looking at each other for some seconds without talking, but Ubbe was the one to break the silence. "I didn't think that you would be here when I'd be back home. I was expecting you to take the boy and disappear." His voice was softer than before. Probably because the little boy was sleeping peacefully inside the crandle.

You chuckled when you heard him talking. You were asking that same thing to yourself. You could do that. After all, you were thinking about that all of the months of your pregnancy. You even tried to scheme, but you ended up doing nothing.

To be fair, life wasn't that bad next to Ubbe. At least lately it was quite better and after seeing him back safe and healthy you felt happier and quite more relieved than before. You couldn't find the reason behind all this. The only thing you knew for sure was that you felt strange.

"I thought the same thing, but it wasn't easy to run away when your mother had her guards watching me like hawks." You replied smiling and he smiled as well for a moment. Then, his eyes went darker. The darker shade of blue that you had ever seen in your life.

"I'd never let you go anywhere with my son. You could run away, go wherever, but little Ragnar stays here with me." His words were harsher than any other time before. You felt yourself getting confused. Ubbe had never talked this way to you before this night. He would leave this house and wouldn't talk to you. When he did talk to you he was kind most of the times. He moved closer to you and one his hands made it on your chin.

You moved away from his grip on your face and looked at him all mad. For one moment you thought that you could feel something else than hate and anger for him and he had to destroy these feelings.

"Command your men, not me. And don't be so sure that you will find your son here tomorrow when you would come back from your whores." Your words came out of your mouth like they were drops of poison. You could see his face transforming again. He went mad. If eyes killed, you would be dead by now. If Ubbe was another man, you would be dead by now.

His hands grabbed your neck and he pushed your body on the wall behind you using his own one. You were trapped between him and the wall with his hand around your throat. He could kill you if he wanted to. You were right there at his mercy looking at him angry like before. Looking at him like you weren't afraid of what he could do to you.

"I could kill you for that and nobody would guess it was me." Ubbe whispered to you. His angry eyes were burning your face. You didn't hold back. Your eyes were looking straight at his eyes.

"Go on then." Your voice came out as a whisper due to the pressure on your troat causing by his larger hand.

"Don't test my patience, woman." With that last whisper right above your left ear, Ubbe set you free from his strong grip and walk to your shared bed. He laid on it.

"My name is (Y/N)." You were saying within pauses as you were trying to catch your breath.

"I can recall your name."

"Then use it when you are referring to me!" You raised your voice this time, forgetting about the toddler sleeping next to the bed.

Your son's crying came right after your yelling. You rushed to him and grabbed him from the crandle before Ubbe could touch him.

"You hate me so much that you didn't even care for our son." He said as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you holding and trying to calm down the crying baby.

"That's not true!" You whisper–yelled looking straight at Ubbe. "This boy is the best thing that has happened in my life since the fucking day I was forced to fucking marry you!" Tears were dropping from your eyes without your notice. "You claim that I hate you, yes I do hate you, but not more than you hate me! You are horrible to me! The mighty Ubbe Ragnarsson who is fair and reasonable to everyone else treats his wife horrible! I get it that you loved that slave girl and you wanted her, but it insults me." You said and wiped away the tears from your face. After that, you held the baby closer to your body and you caressed his hair and then his back. "Go. Find her like any other night. Hopefully, she might be with child and your mother will free us both." You spoke calmer than before and after this you turned to your baby. His teary eyes were looking at yours. "I'm here, my little warrior." You spoke softly at him and started singing only for him.

Ubbe didn't say a word back at you as you were trying to calm the kid so it could sleep. The only thing he did, was to leave from the house and slam the door behind him. When he left, you let the tears stream down from your face.

That night Ubbe didn't come back home, but it wasn't unusual for him. He wouldn't spend the nights at home when he was back. Probably he was drinking with his brothers at the Great Hall and then he was beding that Margrethe girl.

You didn't sleep more than two hours and not because Ubbe wasn't there, but because of your boy's crying. He would wake up every two hours due to fever.

The day was downing when you heard knocks on your door. You opened just to find Hvitserk holding your drunk husband. You moved your head unimpressed and opened your door fully so Hvitserk could move Ubbe on the bed. Little Ragnar was on your hands crying the whole time.

"Is - Is everything alright?" Hvitserk asked quite uncomfortably and brought his hand at the back of his neck.

"No, but it is going to be." You replied at him, caressing the head of your calm now baby who was sleeping. You tried to force a small smile on your face, but you failed as it was expected.

"Why is my nephew so upset today?" Hvitserk was speaking as his hand was caressing your son's blonde head.

"Your nephew has some fever and he is more cranky than usual." You said to your brother-in-law and your lips met your son's forehead. When you felt his decreased temperature you smiled. "But, he is quite colder than before so that's a good sign." You said again and left the boy in the crandle. After that you moved to your kitchen to offer some of your newly baked bread to Hvitserk. He admired your skills in cooking and you appreciated that. "I baked this some time ago. The little monster wouldn't let me sleep." You said when you offered him some of your handmade bread.

"He always calms down when his father is around and don't try to deny it." He pointed out with his mouth full of bread.

You gazed at Ubbe, then at the toddler and at Ubbe again. It was true. Little Ragnar adored his father, it was obvious. Ubbe had a unique ability to charm him, as everyone else. Those son of Ragnar Lothbrok had this ability in their blood.

"I was - I was not going to deny it. I admit that my son adores his father. Everyone adores him." You turned to Hvitserk.

"Everyone except from you."

"What?"

His words caught you off guard. It felt strange when you heard these words coming out of the mouth of a third person. Not so due to the sound of them, but because after the birth of your child people assumed that your relationship with your husband was better. The relationship that a husband would have with his wife. They believed that you grew to love each other and you let them believe so. You wanted them to believe that. You acted like a loving couple in front of others and you even agreed that neither his family should know the real. They seemed relieved and convinced that you finally loved each other.

Hvitserk's eyes landed on your face. You were upset, he could tell by the look of your eyes. He left the empy plate in front of him and concentrated on you.

"Don't act like the loving wife you pretend to be to me. I know better (Y/N). My brother isn't a good liar or pretender. Plus, he spoke a lot last night. Luckily, it was just me there to hear." Hvitserk spoke to you and your eyes met the darkness that covered Ubbe's figure laying on the bed. Before you could even form a word to defend yourself, Hvitserk spoke again. "He was talking about little Ragnar all the time when we were back on the battlefield, you know. He even talked for you a couple of times. It slipped from his lips that he thought that you prayed to Gods for him to die there and I acted like I didn't hear that." He confessed whispering and you felt a tear threatening your left eye. You fought that tear back, you wouldn't let yourself cry in front of Hvitserk. You had cried in front of Ubbe before, but only in front of him because for a strange reason it felt really hard to keep them in.

As for Ubbe's beliefs about your false prayers. Even if you hated him, you would never pray such a thing for the father of your child.

"I - I never - I didn't—" You stopped for a moment to catch your running breath. You closed your eyes for a second and then you re-opened them and looked right at Hvitserk. "I would never pray such a thing. Ubbe and I are whatever we are, but he is still the father of my baby. This boy right there needs his father and whatever bullshit I have told him and he went mad tonight, I wouldn't leave, not after I gave birth to Ragnar. To be honest if it wasn't for him, probably I wouldn't be here right now, but I don't thing that this matters after all." You said honestly.

Hvitserk run his fingers through his messy hair and stretched. After that he took a deep breath.

"If you wanted to leave (Y/N), you would be gone by now. You had your chances before Ragnar but you never did." He spoke and you frowned. You had never thought things that way. But Hvitserk's words were truth.

It had always been a threat that you wouldn't be there when Ubbe would be back home after the raid, but you had never actually done that. You waited for him even when you didn't want him to come home just yet. You caught yourself bringing him up on your prayers just to make sure that Gods would keep him safe, but away for a little longer.

You didn't know what you should have answered him. On the other hand, he didn't need an answer. Hvitserk, as a third person and outside of all this madness, he knew the reason behind both of your behaviors, Ubbe's and yours.

Hvitserk smiled at you and stood up from tbe wooden chair he was sitting. Before he lay his foot outside your house, Hvitserk turned to you.

"It's not a crime to admit that you care for him. Even if you don't want to see it yourself, you have feelings for Ubbe that are not just hatred and anger. You don't need to argue or convince me differently, not me." Hvitserk spoke after his gaze had landed on his brother just to make sure that he wouldn't hear his words. He didn't wait for an answer of yours, he walked through the way that led to the door, but first he looked back at you again. "My advice is only one and hear me for once. I know I am not the wisest person on Midgard, not even close to that, but you have to believe in me just for this once. Don't do anything stupid and let Ubbe go away. You are reaching the end of the line. Both of you are on the edge. You will regret letting him go. Try to think what you want and if you realize that you feel something other than hatred, change. That's my advice to you sweet (Y/N)." Those were Hvitserk's last words. After them he stormed out of the house and left you sinking in your thoughts.

They couldn't be truth, Hvitserk's words. This would be madness. You hated Ubbe and that was it. You were waiting the moment when this marriage would be over. You were living for this same moment. Hvitserk's words confused and made you reconsider everything you thought you felt before this moment.

You couldn't like this guy even a little bit. That couldn't happen. Never. The only good feelings which were trying to form were due to the fact that Ubbe was the father of your son — the only happiness you got from your marriage to your husband was this child. Your miracle baby.

You gazed over to your son and after to his father. You shook your head to avoid your endless thoughts.

You hated Ubbe and wanted to divorce him that was the situation. It wouldn't change. It couldn't change. You waited a very long time to be free from this man, so you wouldn't change your mind just like that, because Hvitserk tried to push some feelings that you didn't even have for his brother.

You stood from your seat and grabbed your basket. You had to clear your mind from all the thinking and going to the market seemed a good solution. Before you leave, you checked oj your sleeping baby and glanced at Ubbe just once.

When you made it out of the door and walked through the streets of Kattegat, people were looking at you suspiciously and you even cought a couple of them whospering to each other as you passed them. At first, you thought that it was a usual day and all this was normal, because you were Ubbe Ragnarsson's wife or something like that. You started to get suspicious when it didn't stop and their stares were persistent on you.

You tried to find a familiar face to ask about the situation, but you weren't that lucky.

After you bought some things you needed you headed back home, where you found Ubbe playing with little Ragnar.

Them playing together — more like Ubbe tickling Ragnar and Ragnar laughing — wasn't a picture you got to see every day. You felt a strange feeling in your heart. It was like a bird flying inside your chest though it didn't last long, because Ubbe's voice made you feel like your usual self towards him.

"Where have you been?" The tone of his voice was imposing and demanding, like he was questioning you. When you heard him you felt quite angry, but you didn't want to cause one more scene in front of your son.

You moved a little bit from the door and left your basket on the table.

"I have been in the market." You spoke as you left your cloak on one of the wooden chairs. As you were speaking, your hands were organizing your kitchen and the stuff you had bought.

When Ubbe heard your answer clicked his tongue inside his mouth, a sound that annoyed you very much.

"What a stupid excuse to leave your child all alone." He said bitterly. Something which made you to turn and look at him. Ubbe had placed your son back inside his crib and was at the other side of the table whick was standing as an obstacle between you and him.

Ubbe was leaned on the wall and his hands were crossed in front of his chest.

You took a deep breath and tried to remain calm for once more because of your child. It wasn't good for your son growing up in an environment where his parents were fighting all the time.

"I didn't leave him all alone, I left him with his father." You responded and leaned your body on the cupboards and placed your hands in front of your chest, like he did before.

"I was fucking sleeping and he was alone! Alone (Y/N)! Anything could have happened to him!" Ubbe yelled as he came even closer and stood inches away from the table.

You closed your eyes and tried to keep your patience.

"I am telling you he wasn't alone, he was with you. You would hear him crying if anything happened." You reasoned angry in low tone of voice, but Ubbe wasn't a bit pleased by your answer. In fact, he was even more angry.

The crying of your baby stopped Ubbe from saying whatever he was going to. You passed from him and grabbed your son from his bed, trying to calm him down.

Your lips placed on his forehead to check on his body temperature and when you knew that he was hot you placed a kiss on his forehead.

"He has fever." You muttered to Ubbe without looking at him.

"What?" His voice sounded different from before when he was talking to you. He sounded surprised and scared.

Undoubtedly, Ubbe loved his son and was an excellent father for him. This child was all he dreamed about. Ragnar just had the wrong mother.

"How long?" He asked again and this time he was close to you caressing the back of your boy.

It was the first time he was this close to you and you two weren't forced to pretend that you wanted it. This time both of you were anxious about your son's health.

"Since last night." You answered him and finally looked at his worried blue eyes. It wasn't the first time you noticed how lovely they were, but it felt like it was. Ubbe was looking back at you, the exact way you looked at him. "Here, hold him for a while." You told him and placed the boy on his hands.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll fetch some water and a wet cloth. They will help."

Within a minute you were both sitting on your shared bed. Ubbe was holding the kid and you were holding the wet piece of cloth on your son's forehead.

"He seems quite better now" Ubbe pointed out and you agreed, taking the cloth away from your baby's sleeping form.

After that, both of you stood from the bed and Ubbe placed your son back inside his crib and both you stayed there looking at the baby for some time.

It felt strange and weird being that close to him and not fighting. When you stopped looking at the baby, you went back to your kitched and he sat on a chair looking around uncomfortable.

Both of you felt uncomfortable and weird around each other for not reason. It wasn't like you didn't know each other, but you felt like strangers to each other indeed. Like you weren't the ones who were fighting some time ago.

"(Y/N)." Ubbe was the first to break the silence between the two of you and you turned to face him.

"Yes, Ubbe." You muttered.

"I—"

He didn't even get to form a proper word when loud knocks on the door startled both of you. You walked pass the table and opened the door. When you did, you met a very worried version of Hvitserk Ragnarsson. You hadn't seen his this way ever again before.

"Brother, I want to talk to you about something." Hvitserk spoke quickly, without greeting you. Ubbe's expression changed when he saw the one his brother had on his face and you were curious yourself, but you didn't ask anything. "Privately." Hvitserk added and glanced at you.

Ubbe stood up from the chair he was sitting and walked to the door.

"If anything happens with the child, go to the Great Hall." Ubbe told you.

"I know." You whispered before he close the door behind him.

It wasn't the first time he left like that. Actually, those times were countless and you felt nothing about it, you didn't really matter where Ubbe was, until this moment. You could feel the agony inside your chest. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands were sweating. You had a bad feeling. Or you were just sick. Maybe you had caught the cold from your baby.

That must have been. It was the only reasonable reason about your feelings.

Fortunately, a soft knock on your door stopped your thoughts and you rushed to open. When you opened, you noticed Torvi's worried look on you and frowned.

"Come in." You were the faster one to start talking, as you opened the door wider for her to come in the house. When she was inside, you closed the door behind her.

"I heard that a certain someone is sick and came to help you. I know how it is to have a sick boy. Hali would get sick almost every winter until he was three." She spoke and you smiled warmly.

"He is getting better now. I hope he will be fine in a couple of days." You said smiling, watching your little boy sleeping. But your smile died when you looked at Torvi again.

She had the same worried expression as when she stood outside your house.

"Is everything alright?" You asked as you moved to your kitchen to prepare some tea for the both of you.

"Well, I didn't come only for Ragnar here, I came to see you, too. You are barely around lately." Torvi's voice was softer than usual, but you didn't want to think too much about it. You were just upset because Ragnar was sick that was all. There was nothing suspicious.

But, on the other hand, too many of coincidences were standing in your way in one day. If you knew one thing, it would be that you didn't believe in coincidences.

"Yes, I know, but Ragnar was sick and you know how I am when is time for my husband to come back from raiding." You spoke and placed a cup of hot tea in the table.

When you looked at Torvi, she was still standing. You motioned her to sit opposite of you and she did it.

You didn't speak much of Ubbe, or the state of your marriage, but Torvi knew. Every member of his family knew the truth about you. They just didn't speak about it. Even Ivar, the brother who was known for his poisonous words, didn't say anything ever, at least not when you were around, and you appreciated that.

Torvi didn't answer you. She was just staring the table speechless which was suspicious. It felt like she knew something and she came to you to tell you, but for some reason which you didn't know she was saying it.

"Torvi." You said her name and leaned closer to her, placing your hand closer to hers. Her eyes met yours and at that moment you knew for sure that something was up. "I can sense that something is wrong, tell me what it is." You spoke again and she her eyes left you for once again. "Torvi, tell me." Your tone was firmer.

You saw her tensing and closing her eyes, then opening them again. Torvi took her hand away from yours and you felt even more confused.

"Alright." She wasn't looking at you when she was speaking. Something that felt even worse. "There is something that I assume that you are not aware of and I think that is unfair for you not to know it. Probably, I am not the one to tell you that and maybe it's a mistake the fact that I am here now, but I consider you my sister and I couldn't keep it away from you." She paused for some seconds and before she started speaking her eyes reached yours. "Margrethe, you know Margrethe, right?" She asked you and you felt you mouth turning bitter at the sound of her name.

Of course you knew her. She was the mistress of your husband. The woman – the thrall girl – he loved and wanted to marry and dreamed about being with her, having the family he always wanted with her, but instead Ubbe stuck with you – the woman he despised the most.

"Are you kidding me, right now?" Your voice was more ironic than you wanted or intended it to be, but when it came to that woman you couldn't keep yourself together.

"I assume you do, considering your answer. Anyways, Margrethe is pregnant." She spilled and you felt your blood turning cold inside your veins.

For a couple minutes nothing was sounding. You couldn't think properly, or even form a proper word to say. You were horrified.

"I didn't want to say it so straightforward. I tried—"

"Who is the father?"

Both of you spoke almost at the same time.

Torvi took a deep breath and that was enough as an answer for you.

"It's been said....... she said that....... I mean......." She was trying to say that your husband was the father of her bastard child, but she couldn't find the right words about it and to be honest were there any right words about something like that?

Probably not.

"It's fine. I guessed that Ubbe is the father." You voice was calm, as you intended.

You were upset. You were angry. You felt hurt for some unknown reason. But you kept yourself together. After all, that was all you wished for to happen. Now, after Margrethe's pregnancy, his mother would approve to your divorce. People would understand. You were humiliated but took all you wanted.

Also, the looks and the whispering in the market this same day made sense. Nothing was a coincidence at the end of the day.

"Hey, aren't you happy for me?" You stood up, trying to sound happy, trying to be happy. It was all you wanted all this time and now it felt like Hel. "Torvi, Torvi, Torvi, let's not lie to each other, you know my problems with him. I have always wanted to find a getaway from this nightmare and now I am finally free to live by my own rules, without a person I hate. And wanna know something else? I knew it about them and I fucking told him to impregnate her so the queen would let us divorse. See, that's all I ever fucking wanted." Your voice was bitter and poisonous. At the end of your speech, you turned your back on Torvi and placed your hands on the counter to steady yourself.

When you did that you closed your eyes and refused by that way to let tears fall from your eyes.

"(Y/N), you don't mean that. You are just upset right now, I understand, I totally understand, but—"

"Torvi, leave me alone." You said, trying to be calm, or at least the calmer way you could be. "Please." Your voice almost gave you away. It almost broke and Torvi was clever she knew – even if you refused to admit it even to yourself – that you were hurt.

Torvi did as you asked her too, she left without speaking a word behind her. When you heard the door closing, you let yourself break.

You fall on your knees and cried worse than your baby. You cried gor something you claimed you wanted all the time you were married with this man and after he did what you told him to, you felt awful – betrayed that was it.

Two words came to your mind when you cried. Weak and stupid. That's how you called yourself and you felt that way because what you didn't want to happen and hated to even think about happening, happened. You had developed feelings for him and you hated him for that, even more. You hated that you loved him.

Hvitserk was right. Everything he told you was right, but nothing of that mattered anymore. You should have admitted and tried to do something to save the last pieces of this marriage, but now, there was nothing that could be saved.

Even if you wanted, even if you tried, Ubbe wouldn't want you. She was all he wanted all this time and this baby of hers and now he had it all. His biggest dream was becoming truth.

Your son's loud crying brought back for once more. He was your saviour after all and you owed him for that.

Your hands wrapped around his little body and tried to relax him, but it seemed impossible when you yourself was crying loudly too.

It was just the two of you now – like you craved – and it felt lonely and strange. It felt like a piece was missing and you knew damn well which piece was that. All you wanted was to leave him and live all by yourself with the only person you loved in the world, but now it was different. It was hard to let go of him and your life with him.

Only the thoughts of finally getting freed from this painful marriage made your heart ached.

You couldn't fall for him. Especially not now.

"Your father will be always there for you, Ragnar. He will always love you deeply, after all you are his firstborn son, you carry his legacy the most. It's just that you will have to grow apart from him, but that doesn't change anything. And I – I love you more than anything in this cruel world. You are my only child." You whispered leaving your tears to reach your jaw. As you were speaking, your heands were caressing your son's back and your eyes were closed. Your were trying to calm down both of you. "Also, we won't be that far. You can see him whenever you want. He and I just won't be together." You didn't know whether it was your son the one you wanted to calm with these words, or yourself. "Never forget—"

You didn't get to finish because the door opened and closed loudly and the only thing you were able to do was to turn your back at the person who entered – Ubbe. But you failed to cover your wet face. He had seen.

"What had happened? Is the kid alright?" Ubbe asked and by the sound of his voice and the way he stormed inside the house, you could say that he was upset. You could guess the reason, but you couldn't get the reason he was upset. Your wishes were coming true. You wanted to divorce with him and he wanted to marry the blonde slave girl.

"Yes. He is just a little bit upset." You spoke swiftly and gazed at your son's big blue eyes. He was just looking at you now. You smiled at him and kissed him softly on the forehead. After that, you left him inside his cradle.

"What about you?" His voice came out softer than before and almost startled you. You didn't expect him to state anything about you, it wasn't like him to care about your feelings.

Your eyes met his for the first time after you found out about the girl's pregnancy and after overthinking your complicated feelings about him.

"I will be." You mouthed quickly and walked past him, or at lest you tried to, because the man you wanted to despise like no one and nothing before stopped you by force.

His hand wrapped around your arm violently and made you stop just inches in front of him. You frowned out of anger and looked first at his hand and then at his angry face.

"What is that? You are acting weird again." He pointed out and wanted to laugh out of your frustration.

You wanted to yell — yell like a madwoman — after the news you received and his audacity to want to be treated differently. You couldn't act like anything had happened. Neither you wanted to tell him about it. If he had the guts, he would tell you himself.

"I don't get what you mean. I'm just myself like usual and apparently you are acting like yourself." Your answer and the unphased tone were enraging him more. You notice by the way his grip on your arm was tightening. "Now let me go. I have to teat my son." You tried to escape from his grip, but Ubbe didn't let you. He pulled you even closer to him. You were both pissed at each other.

Well, you weren't just pissed at him. Deep down you were hurt. He had hurt you like always, but this time — unlike all the others — the pain was piercing through your guts. This pain was something you hadn't experienced before.

"I just can't understand you and I'm fucking trying!" Ubbe let go of you and started walking in the house with his hands running through his breaded long hair. "This morning we were alright and now you are back to your annoying self — to that hateful woman who despises everything." After he finished, Ubbe turned to face you. Your face hadn't change a bit after his words.

You could feel wrath in your veins, but something bitter was there too.

"That's what you believe of me, huh? Then wanna know what I believe of you?" That last part wasn't even a serious question. You were going to tell him anyway and you were going to be harsh. "You are just as hateful, but trying to pretend that you are someone else so that people like you. You expect them to love you when you treat your wife worse than the thralls. I should not talk about that matter — your way with the thralls. You wanted to belittle me so much that—"

You stopped yourself there. You couldn't continue. You were indeed becoming hateful. For a moment Ubbe was just staring you without speaking as his words were replaying themselves inside your mind.

You had become as heartless as your father was. You treated Ubbe so low, but he wasn't better.

"That what? Why did you stopped? Maybe you understood yourself that all these nonsense you are speaking are bullshit! I fucking treat you the way you treat to me! I have never wanted to belittle you!" Ubbe was yelling — it was one of the very few times that he was so mad.

But you weren't going to hold back your tongue. You were as mad as Ubbe — if not more. You had crossed the line some times, but he was worse. He cheated on you multiple times and even impregnated his mistress.

When you heard his words, you were the one who run her hands through her hair this time. Instead of yell immediately, at first you formed an ironic smile on your face and the next thing you did was to yell.

"You belittle me every fucking night of those you are back in Norway! You are cheating on me with that slave and you even got her pregnant this time. You humiliated me! Everyone in the market was gossiping about your exploits! All Kattegat knows! If not all Norway!" You were yelling without even thinking of what you were saying. You hadn't even understood that tears were streaming from your eyes all the time you were talking. "But that shouldn't mind me! After all, that's the best reason to divorce you. No one can stop me after this. And, of course, they can't prevent you from marrying her! Go ahead take her, but I inform you; this is the last time you are looking at me and my son." At the end, all you could do was whisper at him. It was pointless.

Your little boy didn't even cry this time, like he could sense that even him couldn't stop you from saying all these. He was just playing with some of the toys inside his cradle.

Ubbe's expression changed after all the poison you let your mouth spit.

"I've never intended to humiliate you or belittle you." His voice this time was softer than you were used to. You had never really talked in calm tones. "When we married we didn't love each other — we married for that alliance. At that moment, I loved Margrethe and I was planning to marry her, yes and yes, I had slept with her, but that stopped when Ragnar was born. Well, to be precise, I had stopped some time before I learned that you were with child."

All this time you had your back turned at him and were trying to stop the tears that were falling mercilessly from your eyes. But when you heard his last words, you wiped away some fresh tears and faced him. Ubbe was calm — it was a rare moment — a beautiful moment.

"I was trying to give in to the feelings I felt for you. The way I had you in my mind when I was at the battlefield. Don't ask me how those feelings were formed — I have no idea. I was thinking of you, knowing that you were praying for me not to return. Those feelings couldn't be replaced by any fight we had. At the end of the day, all that stayed in my mind was one of your rare smiles and the way you care for our son."

Those words were even harder to process them than the news about the child of the slave girl. You couldn't even think that Ubbe would ever form that kind of feelings for you.

His confession made the rock walls of your heart to fall one by one.

"I have never prayed for you to die on the battlefield. I did quite the opposite in fact and it felt strange in my heart. I hated — I told my self to hate you — I was telling myself all the things I hated in you so I could hate you. I felt strange for you — my heart was beating in a strange way as much as I tried to avoid it, it exists, still." You spoke truly without daring to look in his eyes. "But it doesn't matter anymore. Our marriage will end. Those rumours is humiliating enough for me to leave you. If I have enough dignity, I should leave you."

Ubbe tried to reach for you, but you stopped him with a motion of your hand. If things were different, you would stay and try to make this marriage work, but you had no other choice but to leave him.

Taglist: @bruher, @utterlyhopeful-fics, @hypocritic-trash-baby

[tnsophiaonly]

"A shift within reality hurts."

Devotees stated, feeling their body duplicate and travel within different realities.

Part 1, Part 4

TW:

Bad words, (word) graphic mentions of tearing limbs, uhm very bad bad writing (as always) and short (?)

—y—t—i—l—a—e—R—

Out of all the odds in your room, it has got to be that little mirror ball. It reflects your reflection.

It's like those things fortune tellers use to know your fortune? Like this -> 🔮

You don't know how or why you have that but you just kept it, what if you somehow need it soon?

—t—f—i—h—s—

The Zapolyarny Palace, a cold and magnificent establishment where the Cryo Archon, The Tsaritsa orders her subjects.

The Tsaritsa's orders were simple yet held so much meaning and danger, "The Creator has descended upon this lands, and has ascended back to thy's world, they have the answers to this world that we don't, the power and the position. They will be a critical need against Celestia. Bring them here, alive."

It echoes through the halls, the order, sharp and clear. The tinge of cold lingering in her voice.

The 11 Harbingers are currently in the Il Dottore's laboratory,

Only a certain ginger was excited, hopelessly waiting to be able to get to his creator's world.

"Could you cut it out already?!" A purple puppet punched a ginger's arm as the ginger won't shut up about the Creator.

Apparently, only Childe was a devotee, and some Fatui agents too. But the others can't be said the same.

Example.. well The Balladeer. The Balladeer, well is self explanatory...

—s—l—a—o—g—

On the other hand, researches among other nations were also moving, thrilled of the possibility of being in their creator's world.

After the spreaded news of the creator descending, and with the Oracle, '(S/M)' finally talking about the creator event,she has given out wisdom that those who are gifted are finally capable of ascending to the creator's world.

—n—i—a—p—

"Devotees and Acolytes, I, the creator's humble oracle, hereby knowledge that it is my utmost honor and privilege to deliver a message of the utmost significance, Our Grace, who has descended to bless the flowers and very terrestrial of Teyvat has ascended yet again, but now, with a way for us to reach that heaven. The time has finally come for all those who seek ascension, for the pathway to our heavenly paradise has finally opened. Only those who possess the strength and determination to overcome the rigors of the world shall emerge victorious and bask in the eternal glory of our Grace. Let us now offer ourselves in humility and devotion, for our purpose has been revealed. The paradise we seek is within reach, and we shall reap the rewards of our efforts in this life and the next. Come forth, and I shall guide you through this gateway, which will lead you to eternal bliss and utter contentment.." every exact word the creator's oracle spoke with every possible happiness and admiration. As they set off to Mondstadt, other nations were envious of the nation but as so still came either way, (S/N or M) has led them to the very Creator statue, sitting in mid air with its hands in offering,

The statue looked ethereal, but didn't match the Creator's actual look of graciousness, but then, no statue or anything can ever match the Creator can it?

As they stood, (S/M) walked slowly, then, the blonde traveler came in a swoop out of nowhere, in the creator's hands, with a look of shock and confusion, a transcendent mix of the color blue, pink and gold appears in a stair like form.

Guiding and ending to the heavens above. The traveller went up first, then disappeared on the top, turning into primogems, then (S/N) went, turning into primogems too, then archons, then gods (even non-playables), then adeptus, then just at this point every character playable, then vision users, then the last ones were the npc's some were able to get in, some were not.

All came except for the Fatui Harbingers, The Tsaritsa, fully knowing what they're up to, decided to let them be under orders, because unlike Dottore's machine, there's no knowing where this gate will take them. Then she went in, then turned into primogems.

—r—e—w—o—p—

Ever since the creator's descending, deceased ones lived again, La Signora became alive again, Teppei, Tomo... Etc... But those who perished without the Traveller with them were not saved again. They lived in peace yet.

No one knew how Scaramouche came back, but he was definitely with Dottore now, apparently, Dottore exchanged Scaramouche and his clones for the electro and Dendro gnosis to Nahida in the negotiation. That's what they were told then.

And here they were,

Here in Dottore's lab with the help of Sandrone's machinery and Dottore's knowledge and shit, they were able to create a machine to be able to shift.

It was understandable that some were skeptical about the choice, it had a 49.88% out of 100% chance to work isn't it? But, there was no choice but to comply, as it is strictly under the Tsaritsa's words that they should go through a legitimate machine that can bring them to the creator.

Then one-by-one they entered the metallic machine, then felt immense pain as soon as they got in,

It's as if their body was warping with another, their body ripping apart, limb-to-limb, if you were a normal person, it would feel like a punishment for trying to shift into another reality,

Unlike the gateway from the Creator statue that'll feel like going to heaven and all, this machine felt like you were a doll that's been ripped apart when two little girls fought over you, stretching your body apart that it ripped into two.

—-—-—-—

Holding on to your consciousness in class as math class/history class started, it was Monday again unfortunately, school started yet again, you just want to bop your head and cry, why are you studying when you die it's all just gonna get tossed away either way? You wasted your life struggling in stress, pain and all, but it was all for nothing, then again if you just sit there it's also considered as wasting your life isn't it?

Suddenly you want to go back to that strange dream, lucid dream..? Or..

"(Y/n).."

Your name was called out by a classmate, asking for an extra pen sheepishly. You stared at them, eyeing them, then went through your stationary and gave them an extra pen, with a thanks, they started scribbling again. You look at the board, oh shit, you had to take notes or else!

Then you started writing again, with few silly doodles on the pages,

As class goes on, you're unaware that the world you've just went to, has come to you.

Pls ignore to the fact that I disappeared then just appeared out of nowhere, class started becoming HORRID and really a pain in the ass-

+I was not satisfied with the things I wrote in here so it took so much time 😭

Anyways here ya go, I'm dropping another thing connected about this dw.

Taglist

(I still don't know what is this)

@khalhaimdad @yourlocalstranger123 @undecidingfate @urog1 @mmeatt

[dandelion-wings]

For the ask meme, Jean and Venti? :>

Thank you for the ask! :>

JEAN

How I feel about this character

This should be no surprise to anyone, but I adore her. #1 absolute favorite Genshin character, bar none. She's already an archetype I love (honorable lady knight torn between duty/family and her own desires, bonus points for blondness; see also, FE3H Ingrid), enough so that the friend who got me into Genshin lured me in with her ("read the manga at least until you get to Jean, and if you like her, you have to start playing"), and a lot of her individual characteristics are also deeply endearing to me. I am not rational about Jean. She is my beloved precious blorbo who can do no wrong and I will write out her flaws and make her perfect if I want to, and I will write her outmatching and one-upping the male characters who are supposed to be just as or more cool, and I will write her whump and fluff and hurt/comfort where everyone goes "oh we have been unfair to Jean, let us rush to care about her," and I feel no shame on any of these points. I am holding her up and showing her to everyone like a beloved pet.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Okay, so, the thing about me is that I usually make my favorite character a fandom bicycle because I just like seeing how I think they'd interact with other characters I like? I have at least idle shipping thoughts about Jean and... so much of the rest of Genshin. But my primary ships for her are most of the other Knights of Favonius, particularly any combo, OTP or OT3 or OT4, of Lisa, Kaeya, and Eula, with some particularly energetic mental dabbling (less likely to make it on the page) in Jean/Ningguang, Jean/Rosaria, Jean/Diluc, and Jean/Sara. Those are probably the ones outside the OT4 and its permutations that I'm most likely to actively play with without some outside trigger or inspiration!

My non-romantic OTP for this character

See above, just without the kissing. That said, I think everyone knows it's Jean and Kaeya. XD And beyond that the platonic relationships within the OT4!

My unpopular opinion about this character

I... am not sure I have one? The people I choose to follow have Good Opinions, and I do not follow people with Bad Opinions so I don't know how popular they are (also I don't go into her main tag because main character tags get SO spammed with 'this character appeared once briefly in the background of this comic' sorts of tags. I follow individual artists and the rarepair tags). I like to think she could take Diluc, I guess? Who often gets presented in fanon and a little bit in canon as the Ultimate Mondstadt badass.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

More cool action scenes! And also FIXING HER RELATIONSHIP WITH BARBARA.

---

VENTI

How I feel about this character

I like him! I have somehow ended up following and being followed by many Venti fans who love him much more intensely, and he's one of those characters I already like enough that I can be enjoyably swept up in that love, such that for the duration of the post I'm reading or the discussion we're having, I love him just as much. Then it goes back to 'sure, he's cool and I enjoy seeing him'. :> Which I definitely do.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Venti isn't a fandom bicycle for me just because he's not in my top faves, but he definitely would have the potential if he was. >> That said, Dvalin, Zhongli, and Xiao are the only people I regularly seek out pairing content with him for; I enjoy incidentally seeing him with pretty much any of the world's other immortal/long-lived-non-human characters and all the now-dead past character's he's been with, and he's fun with a lot of the Mondstadt characters as well. Honorable mention to Jean/Venti for occupying the same mental space as Venti himself: a pairing I'm not personally invested in but, while I'm talking to @esmeraldablazingsky and/or reading their stuff, am temporarily 110% high-enthusiasm about.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Broadly speaking, his various friends over the centuries and, currently, especially Dvalin, but I will admit that my Thing for Jean means that I am most fascinated with his relationship with her (the only person in canon who knows him in both his forms and is still respectful! XD) and, by extension, Gunnhildrs of the past.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I again don't know enough about general fandom opinion to have one. XD;; Most of my opinions about Venti are accumulated from the people I follow who love him, and I haven't seen any general popular ones among them that I disagree strongly with!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I put "Venti takes the Traveler to Celestia, or at least gives them a very strong hint and boost" in a lot of my speculative endgame scenarios because I feel like there are hints in canon that it COULD be what happens, and I really really hope that it WILL be. It feels like how the narrative around him should pay off, to me.

[september-rainn]

ANOTHER NIGHT

CG!Jack Twist x Little!Ennis Del Mar

AO3 LINK // BELOW THE CUT

Summary: Ever since the divorce, Ennis has had trouble keeping the nightmares away. The only thing that lulls him to sleep is hearing Jack's voice echo through the payphone walls.

Tags: Nighmares, long distance, phone calls, public regression, secret regression, baby regressor Ennis Del Mar, hurt/comfort, a LOT of crying, non verbal Ennis Del Mar

Word Count: 1354 

Warnings: Nondescript mention of corpse// violence, Nonverbal Ennis Del Mar

A/N: I love them, your honor, I will happily be the first to write age regression Brokeback Mountain fanfiction

Jack Twist slept on the couch. 

Lureen's chest fell heavy, and she took the quilt down. Jack’s baby blues analyzed her, and she curled up alone again as he posed himself against the arm of the couch. The only sound was the gentle roar of stale air and his expectations. This rendezvous reared its head fast after his averse companion’s divorce– The stress of unnavigated loneliness was the perfect background for night terrors. 

It was clockwork by now. Ennis fighting with the blanket, eyes hazy, rolling to fight the tears. He’d stomp on his boots and grab his head for the principle of the thing; Ennis was much for routine. He’d stalk the sidewalk, hugging the shabby bricks of closed stores, seeking out glass security. His beer-stained tank would scrunch up his body when he slumped down. His cowboy hat sheltered his waterworks from peeping eyes. Streaks of headlights passed him by, and he would scrunch closer into himself.

Ennis’s eyes squeezed, but every time he was sunk into darkness, he was assaulted with the memory of the slowly rotting corpse his dad showed off with a lingering joy. It was a tragedy only the damned mourned. Every night, he vividly saw Jack in the ditch, and every night, he felt compelled to call and check that he had safely returned home.

Ennis’s shaking hands would fumble with what little coin he held in his pajama pants. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s encrusted face peered at him, and he slammed it into the slot before he submitted to the shame. It jostled around the machine. A beep jumpstarted his heart. He had heard it so many times, the sound living in his dreams. The dial tone was quick to comfort. Muscle memory took hold but gave him more time to listen to the apprehension whispering to him. 

The handset hugged his stubbled jawline. The waiting beep taunted him. His ankle wrapped over the other. The tip of his worn-out boot bounced in sync with the pulsing rhythm in his ears. 

Click

“Same nightmare?” came from the other end of the receiver. 

There was nothing but the sound of leather sliding up and down his messy blonde locks.

“Yeah?”

The confirmation arrived with the same sound.

“Yeah,” He repeated. “Poor lamb. It torments you like it’s their nine to five..” Jack’s head leaned forward, lips grazing the phone, and wishing, like always, it was Ennis’s. Ennis huffed through the line. Shivers rolled down the brunette’s spine, the dim light of the room casting long shadows. If he closed his eyes for long enough, he could imagine his secret lover was next to him, the warmth of a shared bed enveloping them, with him snuggling into Jack’s side, breathing delicately.

The sentiment was not shared between the two boys. Right now, all Ennis needed was Jack to calm him down so he could return to the sanctuary of his run-down trailer home. He’d forget the night prior. He’d pretend the call logs didn’t paint a desperate mischaracterization of him.

Jack mumbled, too tired to filter himself, “You know how much these calls break me. I want to take care of you properly. I ain’t a poet, but Goddamn it, I know how to tuck in a man.”

A choked whine twitched his lips into a frown.

“I know, Lamb. You miss me too.” Jack was well acquainted with Ennis going nonverbal. He didn’t talk much when he was big; it was a different story when a trembling baby was behind his pupils. 

Jack swirled the coiled cord around his index. He eyed the open door of his bedroom. “Dada has been lonely without you. ‘Magine, how fast these night frights would disappear if I held you at night.”

He backtracked faster after a wail peaked the audio. Jack saw comfort in living together, and all Ennis could find was another body in a pit. Reassuring Ennis was like stalking a bunny in the woods; the most minor *crack* and he was back to chasing.

He let his aggravation fall before speaking again, “Us in the tent again… warm August air…” He looked at the ceiling and sighed. “Only us. Only Dada and his perfect lamb… in harmony with the world. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Nothing, as if Ennis had stopped breathing altogether. 

He brought himself to grin. “Even found this nice stuffed horse when shopping with my wife-”

The peace faltered fast with shaky sobs. 

“-....With Lureen. It was brown with white spots. Next time I see you, I’ll give it to you.”

Jack looked out to the street. Ennis did the same. They were looking for each other through miles of streetlights and architecture. The wet flick of Jack’s tongue to his dry lips echoed through the phone booth. His head frantically swiveled. No one was out this late in a town this small, but Ennis was nothing if not paranoid. He couldn’t understand how he ducked at the swing of doors, but Jack could ramble with his wife in the other room.

He thought Jack was foolish for being so persistent in his love for him.

“Da..da..?” He slammed his heel into the wall as the terror ran its course through his body. He felt disgusted but too needy to stop himself. His head hung low. Rivers of tears flowed past the plastic held to his face.

“Yes, Lamb?” Jack was grinning. Getting Ennis to speak when regressed was a task. He worked himself up so much and couldn’t push past even a murmur. 

All Ennis wanted was Jack. He wanted him to know this. Jack caught on fast. He drummed his dull fingernails into the chunky cream phone.

“Dada loves you, y’know that. I enjoy these calls. I like hearing your voice every night.”

All Ennis could do was babble an agreement. “Do you think humming to you would help? ‘Know that’s what your mama used to do.”

Jack sprawled himself on the couch. He was exhausted, hardly hanging on to consciousness, but had his priorities on Ennis. That’s how it always went. 

He didn’t hear a response. He could sense it, though, so his lips pursed together and pushed out the notes to the melody Ennis graced him with on Brokeback. It wasn’t a long segment. Hell, he got half of the notes wrong, but what mattered was the calming huffs from the other male keeping pace. Ennis yawned. He tried to distract from it with a whimper.

But Jack knew, “Now dada thinks you should *try* and get some sleep. You’re so deprived of it; I can hear your eyebags hit the floor when you blink.”

The sweetest giggle fluttered Jack’s heart, leaving a remnant in his stomach. “‘Want you to get real comfy. You still got that plushie I got you last time-” He snickered into his hand- “When you shooed me away ‘cuz of the girls?” He heard the ruffle of hair. He assumed the best, “Good. When you get back home, I want you to hold that. Hold it *reaaaaaaaal* close to your heart.”

Ennis whimpered. He was too scared to go back to sleep again, but Jack kept demanding it and making requests. He sucked at the joint of his pointer. It calmed him down, having something to mouth on. If Jack were here, he’d chew on his fingers instead. 

“-Even get yourself some warm milk. Now Dada has to go. I loved talking to you again. I’ll stay by the phone, in case you need him. I can’t abandon my sweetest lamb.”

Jack pressed his lips to the transmitter. He peppered it with kisses. The plastic, warm from his face, was nothing like the perfection of Ennis’s skin. Ennis cupped his mouth and turned his back to the road. He hunched forward like he was hiding something and returned the kisses. Ennis slammed the phone back onto the metal prods and walked back home. The shame followed close behind him. He hated that he required that comfort every night to slip into a dreamless ecstasy. 

Jack fell asleep on the couch, like the countless nights before.

[guttergirlcore]

East Coast Baby II (JJ Maybank x reader)

WARNINGS // NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, possessive behavior, stalking, mentions of alcohol and drug use, jealousy, manipulation, toxicity, gaslighting, non-canon ages, pogue!reader, she/her reader, mentions of familial trauma, one bed trope, JJ watching reader as she sleeps, light somno at the end

MINORS DNI --> READ RESPONSIBLY

Synopsis // Running from a trauma-addled past, you arrive in OBX to find some peace. Shortly after, a series of strange events ensue, drawing your circle smaller and smaller, eventually driving you into the arms of one JJ Maybank. What you hadn't realized, however, is how difficult it would be to escape the one person you never thought you'd have to run from.

divider by @firefly-graphics​

Word count: 2k

~

You slowly blinked your heavy lids until your vision cleared enough to make out the dark wood of a ceiling.

"Hey, hey, she's awake guys!" Kie called over to the boys and suddenly your line of sight was obstructed by four looming heads.

"Ugh, fucking Rafe," you groaned, reaching for the back of your head.

"Fucking Rafe is right. He totally could've given you a concussion. I mean, I wanted to take you to a hospital, but dumbasses one and two here insisted on bringing you here," Pope stood with his hands on his hips.

You sat up quickly and JJ's hands shot up to steady you.

"Woah, woah. Easy, okay? You took kind of a hard hit." JJ looked into your eyes with genuine concern before turning a pointed glare in Pope's direction.

"You want her going to the hospital and when they ask how she got the injury- to tell them she was out at a kegger with about a hundred other people and then tried to get in the middle of a fight until you, Mr. Smartass, decided to pop off a stolen gun? That's what you want her to say, Pope?"

"Yeah, dude, it's not like we were checking IDs, and I'm pretty sure there were like twenty different drugs going around the beach tonight." John B. told Pope, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Stolen gun?” You murmured drowsily.

“It’s a long story,” JJ said apologetically before turning back to Pope.

"Okay well, all I'm saying is this could be more serious than we think! Structural damage and all that bro! In this one show I saw on Forensic Files, this body showed up to the morgue completely fine, but they ran the autopsy and found out the dude hemorrhaged in the brain from a minor hit!" Pope threw his hands up in the air.

"Okay, you did not see that," Kie argued, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, enough! Christ. Y/n will be fine as soon as all of you get out and let her relax," JJ shouted over the bickering pair.

In a huff, Kie, Pope, and John B. headed out onto the screened-in porch, leaving you and JJ alone.

"Where am I right now?" You asked, looking around at the messy wooded cabin.

"John B's. Thought it best if we take you here to rest," JJ said, kneeling down in front of you. "Y/n, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t think you’d get in the middle of it."

“Well, I did,” you fix JJ with a stoney look. “You do know that Rafe was just trying to get under your skin, right?”

“Yeah, I figured. But still, I wasn’t gonna let him touch you,” JJ said, completely serious.

“Why? Why do you care? You just met me.”

“Do I really have to answer that?” JJ furrowed his blond brows. “Because I like you, y/n. Is that not obvious?”

You blinked your eyes rapidly. “I- I like you too JJ, but like I said, we just met. I hardly know anything about you and vice versa.” You looked down at your lap, twisting your rings around your fingers.

“Okay, well tell me something about you,” JJ smiled, bracing a closed fist just a few inches from your knee on the couch.

You hesitated. You weren’t used to people asking about you, and you weren’t even sure what to say. You weren’t sure if you wanted to say anything at all. 

JJ was cute and seemed sweet. His friends were nice and he did get into a fistfight to protect your honor or whatever, which was kind of sweet in a marginally deranged way- but opening up to new people didn’t come easily to you. Sometimes you thought it was better to stay closed off to avoid the hurt.

You shook your head and averted your gaze from JJ’s disappointed face.

“Okay, well I’ll tell you something about me,” he said. He rocked back on his heels, planting his butt on the floor at your feet, his elbows resting on his raised knees.

“Ahh- let’s see. Alright, my favorite movie is C.H.U.D., the only book I’ve ever read and liked was The Outsiders, and I’m one hell of a surfer.” JJ laughed, counting off on his ringed fingers. “My favorite color is green, I like Zach Bryan’s music, and honestly, I’m not as calm and collected as I’d like everyone to believe.”

You looked up at JJ’s last admission, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah, uh- so my mom split a long time ago. Or it feels that way anyway. My dad sucks, so there’s that. Sometimes I think he likes the bottle better than he does me. Actually, I don’t really think he likes me at all.”

“JJ, I-” You were at a loss for what to say. What could you say? Didn’t you know better than anyone that there was nothing you could say? Nothing could fix, or even alleviate, that type of pain. 

You gave up on words, instead reaching for JJ’s hand, rubbing your thumb over his bruising knuckles. JJ’s eyes softened at your gentleness. You nodded your head slowly, encouraging him to go on if he wanted.

“At least he isn’t around much, so I get to do what I want, which is better than Kie or Pope’s got it,” he chuckled dryly.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to sacrifice a father for freedom. I’m sorry that that happened to you, JJ. It’s not right, and you don’t deserve it.” 

You gazed into his blue eyes sadly. Though he wouldn’t let it on, you could see the suffering lingering in the depths of his eyes. It was the same suffering you held in your own.

JJ held your hand tightly as if it were a life-raft he could pull himself onto to keep himself from drowning in the sea of pain.

You rubbed harshly at your misting eyes and chuckled. You told him your favorite movie, show, and book, that you liked to paint, what your favorite color was, and what kind of music you listened to. You told him about your aunt Laura, and how you hardly knew her, and yet she was the closest familial bond you had. JJ listened intently the whole time.

“And as for the other stuff- the darker stuff... I want to tell you, JJ, I do. But I just have a really hard time opening up like that, you know?” You told him.

He nodded his head slowly and gave his characteristic smirk. “That’s alright. I’ve got time.”

After the two of you sat up talking on John B.’s couch for the rest of the night, JJ assured you that it would be okay if you crashed there.

“Really, I do it all the time y/n,” JJ laughed. “I’ll stay here with you.”

You sent Laura a text to let her know your plans and allowed JJ to take you to the spare room.

"I've got some extra clothes here if you wanna change," JJ pointed to the large wooden dresser.

You looked down at what you were wearing. It was still a bit damp and sandy from the beach, so you nodded your head in agreement.

JJ crossed the room and pulled out a cotton t-shirt from the drawer, placing it in your hands.

He stood there for a moment more with his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, JJ? Could you, you know...?" Motioning for him to give you some privacy.

"OH! Yeah, yeah, let me just-" JJ scurried to the door, pulling it closed with a quiet click behind him.

You pulled off your sandy top and bottoms, dropping them to the floor at your feet. Picking up JJ's shirt, you lifted it to your face.

The cotton was soft and worn and smelled like clean linens, surf wax, and the faint scent of sunscreen. The scent of JJ.

You slipped it over your body and called out to him.

He entered the room as you perched on the edge of the single bed.

"I can take the couch if you-" he started.

"No, no I don't want to take your bed from you! We can share it, it's plenty big enough for both of us," you smiled at him.

Secretly, you hoped he wouldn't refuse and you were pleased when he didn't.

~

You had fallen asleep hours ago as JJ sat up watching you peacefully doze next to him.

Despite his eyes burning painfully from lack of sleep, he couldn't bring himself to look away from you.

Here you were, so beautiful, so gentle, so trusting, and so thinly clothed.

JJ thought back to your conversation earlier on the couch. How kind you had been, even though you only met him yesterday. How you held his hand and comforted him, even though you had no obligation to. And now, how you laid here in his bed, in his clothes, mere inches from him.

Then, images of Rafe clouded his vision. Rafe's hand on your knee across the beach.

JJ hadn't meant to drift so far from you, but one of his friends called him and Pope over, and it was only a few yards. He figured you'd be okay for a few moments until he could return to your side.

But like he always seemed to do, Rafe appeared out of thin air, sticking his hands on things that didn't belong to him.

JJ shook his head. He had to remind himself you didn't belong to him either. At least not yet.

The [admittedly] very small rational part of him knew Rafe was just goading him on, but the rage was blinding and unexpected.

Who does Rafe think he is? He thinks he owns everything from Figure 8 to The Cut. And you. You're so pretty and defenseless. I need to protect you. I need Rafe to know you're mine.

JJ had crossed the few yards in a matter of seconds, his hands clamping down on Rafe's steam-pressed collared shirt. It was like he weighed nothing as JJ dragged him to the water, his inherited rage blooming in his chest. He stomped to the water's edge until it soaked through his boots, and then he just let himself go.

He threw punch after punch in Rafe's smug face. With each time his fist made contact, he was further gratified. That was until he saw you.

JJ hadn't even realized you'd followed him, but there you were, laying on your back in the sand, a light bruise already forming on your jaw. Rafe had hit you.

JJ wailed on him as hard as he could, pounding his fists into Rafe's chest as he spit blood back at him. It took Pope, John B., Topper, and Kelce to pull him off.

JJ found his anger returning to him and he braced a hand against his chest, pacing his breathing.

She's alright. She's alright. She's here, JJ reminded himself.

Sometimes his rage frightened him. It looked too much like his dad's. But he was better than him. What he did, he did for love. His dad just did it for fun, or whatever. That made him better, right?

JJ looked over at your sleeping form. Your back was turned to him and he watched as your side rose and fell with your breathing. He gazed over the curve of your ass and felt himself grow hard at the mere sight.

He couldn't have you tonight, he knew that. Still, he allowed himself to scoot slowly down the bed and closer to you.

When you hadn't moved, he pressed his body flush against yours, his face buried in your strawberry-scented hair, his hardening length fitted snugly against your ass.

He let out a soft groan at the contact. This would have to be enough for him for now.

The last thing he thought before he finally succumbed to sleep was

she will be mine.

~series masterlist~

[markantonys]

okay quick 2x04 thoughts before i go off to make some gifs!

moiraine in cairhien was so fun!! loved getting a peek at her childhood and family

i gasped when it was revealed that moiraine (and presumably siuan) deliberately planted logain in cairhien to lure rand, even though i should've seen it coming! i should've known moiraine's always playing 4D chess!

WE STAN ANVAERE, absolute queen shit. she out-moiraine'd moiraine! also, as a younger sister who spent my whole childhood craving my older sister's approval, Felt

i'll admit i'm not jazzed about lan's storyline this episode. it was a little interesting and i liked getting a look at what alanna is like "outside of work", and she and maksim and ihvon continue to be top-tier secondary characters, but it felt like too much time and i wish some of this screentime had gone to mat or egwene instead. though i'm guessing we'll be getting much less of lan and more of others (especially egwene, for obvious reasons) next week!

but i AM intrigued by the direction they're going with lan's bond. everyone had speculated alanna's absorbing myrelle, but given that lan's getting on pretty well with them all and alanna seems to be leaving the decision in his hands and even suggests he could soon bond with nynaeve, i really do wonder if they might just have lan's bond go straight to nynaeve post-moiraine's-"death" and keep alanna & rand as the only non-consensual bonding in the show. it's a bit of a repetitive plot beat and i don't think anything would break if lan's version of it was skipped.

egwene referencing rand to elayne but without mentioning his name or any distinguishing info about him!!!!! this definitely gives me hope for a cute little scene of rand and elayne encountering each other in falme without realizing they have mutual friends.

i was SO confident that blonde warder trainee in the trailer was gawyn, but it turns out he was just a random background guy! i have been catfished! but maaaaaaybe it really was him but he just wasn't credited because he's not being officially introduced until a later episode? please???

LEANE'S OUTFIT!!! and ooooh great setup for the falme trip AND the coup next season (i'm sure some people will be more convinced by liandrin/elaida merger after this scene, but i truly don't think that'll happen bc a) it wouldn't work storywise for a number of reasons, b) if they were merging them they would've named the character elaida instead of liandrin)

i LOVED perrin's scenes with elyas!!! and this is coming from someone who was always bored to tears by perrin povs in the books! elyas delivering exposition like it was the most obvious thing in the world and perrin's an idiot for not knowing was a GREAT vibe haha and we have confirmation that perrin's visions aren't a visual representation of his smelling abilities, but rather sendings from the wolves! and we got hopper!!!!!

liandrin's convo with nynaeve was SO GOOD. i was going "awww this is so sweet, i love this" "oh wait, betrayal incoming, shit" djkjfg they did a great job of making it believable that nynaeve (and the audience) would trust liandrin's word about going to falme. also, the show's focus on the tragedy of aes sedai longevitiy is excellent, 10/10

elayne my beloved!!!!! "yes i'm following you obviously" i love her your honor!!!! and the earlier moment where she admits being curious about what it's like not to have your whole life mapped out, but then says she wouldn't trade places with egwene. baby! can't wait to get to her queen arc eventually!

FASCINATED by the reveal that min is working with liandrin because liandrin had promised to take her powers away from her. what an amazing story choice!!! it lends min some much-needed narrative meat, it makes SO much sense that she would find uncontrollable foresight to be a burden and a curse, and it sets up a potential arc of her learning more about/coming to terms with her powers. in the books she never has many thoughts on what it's like to have these powers, so i LOVE that the show is going to explore that more.

overall i'm quite surprised by the relative lack of mat in the season so far! i'd assumed they'd want a lot of time with him early since he was out of the final 2 eps of s1. but i'm sure he'll get a more focal episode later! on that note, i'm a bit worried because imdb doesn't have min in episode 5, and they do have mat, but it could just be because donal is a regular so gets billed for every episode even if he doesn't appear. because i'm not sure it'd make sense for mat to appear but not min next episode? but it's possible, and it's also possible that min will appear and imdb isn't accurate. still, i'm bracing myself for no mat storyline next week.

at least we got confirmation on the where & why of their trip: cairhien because ishamael wants to get mat and rand back together!! highly relatable of him, i must say

i don't even know what to say about the rand & lanfear stuff, it was SO good i'm shaking!!!!! but poor rand has probably been put off bondage forever now which is absolutely tragic djkfjgh

update to add: i can't believe moiraine walked in on rand mid-sex (with a forsaken) i hope they have the world's awkwardest conversation about it once they've stopped fleeing for their lives. there is a spectrum and This & mean girls "do you need anything? snacks? a condom?" are on opposite ends of it

[youre-ackermine]

Sunburst: a sudden brief appearance of the full sun from behind clouds

Characters: Levi Ackerman / Hange Zoe / Petra Ral / Erwin Smith / Miche Zacharias / Nanaba / Zeke Jaeger / Nifa (mention) / Moblit Berner (mention) / Yelena (mention)

Pairing: Levihan (friendship) / Rivetra / Zekehan / Erumike (implied)

Wordcount: 2265 approx.

Modern AU / SFW / Levihan slow burn / High school friends / Established relationships / Non-binary AFAB Hange Zoe / Swearwords / POV Levi Ackerman

His mood probably couldn’t get gloomier now that he had finished all the tasks -most likely meant to distract him from his dejection now he thought about it- that Miche had assigned to him since morning.

He was sitting on the steps leading to the porch, a glass of iced-tea from the bowl he had freshly prepared in hand. On the surface his face showed all the usual signs of annoyance and boredom that seemed to be his signature expression but, if you could get a closer look, melancholy tinged his features quite unexpectedly as he scrolled on his phone.

Levi frowned, squinting his eyes in the sun and gluing them to the screen. His heart sank when he saw Petra’s latest post on Instagram, a picture of Nifa and herself, all smiles as they drank some fruity cocktail from a ridiculously huge coconut through colorful straws. A nasty surge of jealousy stung him when he noticed the lustful glances a bunch of guys sitting with them around a restaurant table cast her way.

“The fuck that means,” he mumbled under his breath. 

They were supposed to drink stupid cocktails from stupid coconuts together and they were supposed to bask in the sun on this stupid white sand beach together and they were supposed to soak in this stupid warm lagoon water together. But she had gone on vacation with Nifa instead, arguing she needed time. And space. To find herself, to recharge. To think about them.

Yeah, they were on a break. Yeah, she had decided this one-sidedly. Yeah, she had urged him to pack some of his stuff and stay at his best friend’s for a while. Yeah, he didn’t understand the fuck why she wanted this but he had obliged. Yeah, he would oblige again and again. And fucking yeah, he would do anything she asked if it meant he could win her back.

But dammit! Seeing her having a good time away from him, seeing her smiling as he was still stuck in anger and sadness after four weeks apart, imagining other men ogling her perfect curves, flirting with her, or even laying their dirty hands on her was tearing his heart apart.

A firm yet friendly pat on his shoulder snapped Levi off his stupor. He glanced sideways at Erwin as he sat down next to him.

“No point in hurting yourself over something you can’t control, Levi,” his best friend said, a hint of concern in his soft tone. A faint but incredibly fond smile appeared on Erwin’s face. “Get rid of your phone for now and go freshen up. You wouldn’t want Miche to scold you in front of the guests, would you?”

“As if I gave two shits about what that blond titan thinks!” Levi replied, rolling his eyes. He got up and pocketed his phone nonetheless, heading to his bedroom to change clothes.

He was pouring a refreshing drink for Nanaba, casually catching up with her, when a boisterous exclamation caught their attention. Everybody raised their heads and glasses, cheering the guest of honor as they waved frantically from the driveway where they were stepping out of their car.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you all came! I’m so happy!” Hange shrieked, eyes sparkling with excitement and a huge smile on their face.

They laughed heartily as their step-brother picked them up in his arms and spun them around as if they weighed nothing.

“Happy birthday, Nerdling,” Miche whispered in their ear, his mustache tickling their skin when he pecked their cheek.

He loosened his embrace and let Hange go. Their gaze wandered around the garden to greet their guests, their radiant smile growing wider and reaching their eyes as they finally fell on their best friend.

“Happy birthday Hans!” she said, her arms wrapping around them. They held each other tight for a while until Hange peeked past Nanaba’s shoulder and recognised the short man standing next to the iced-tea bowl, his pouring gesture frozen in the air.

Hange’s eyes widened. “Holy Walls! Grumpy Pants, is that you?!”

“Tch… No shit, Four-Eyes,” he deadpanned, still gripping Nanaba’s glass by the rim.

“Still so handsome behind the scowl, right Shorty?” They chuckled and winked at him before turning to another guest.

For some reason his stomach churned.

A rhetorical question. Obviously.

The festive afternoon was drawing to a close. The birthday cake was nothing more than a few forgotten crumbs on a plate by now, the opened gifts had been thrown haphazardly on Hange’s car backseat, and the last guests had said their goodbyes a while ago.

Trash bags in hand, Miche, Erwin and Nanaba busied themselves around the garden and the terrace to throw paper plates and plastic cups away.

Levi had found the party more pleasant than expected. And definitely more pleasant than he would ever admit. 

After flitting from one friend to the next, Hange had finally pulled out a chair to sit across from him in his favourite corner of the garden, near a bush of fragrant roses that always reminded him of his mother’s perfume.

They hadn’t met since the graduation ceremony a few years ago. They had caught up on what they had both been doing since then, inadvertently -and frankly, as an afterthought, much to his relief- dodging the matters of the heart.

He knew from Miche that they had been studying abroad in a prestigious university in Hizuru and had recently come back to work in a renowned research company in Trost, dragging their all-time lab partner Moblit -the fuck was this name by the way?- along with them. They had asked him a lot of questions about his work as an architect and his accomplishments in his hobbies. MMA techniques seemed to fascinate them by the way.

Levi's mind had been at ease listening to Hange’s enthusiastic babbling for hours, taking in their lively face and their bright, beautiful brown eyes behind their stained glasses. He had forgotten his worries for a while, lulled into a blissful daze by their voice, his heart almost soothed by their cheerful presence.

As the sun slowly set behind a hill, the gate creaked open to reveal a tall blond man with a well-trimmed beard and a pair of golden round glasses. Levi looked up at the newcomer who gestured to him to remain silent while he smoothly joined them, careful not to crunch the gravel under his feet.

Sensing something was off when their eyes fell on Levi’s face, Hange stopped their rant about whatever toxic plant they were blabbering about.

“Shorty? Something’s wrong? You’re as white as Moblit’s asscheeks all of a sudden!” they asked in a worried tone.

Moblit's assch-, what? Taken aback, Levi didn’t have time enough to retort.

Hange squealed when the man slid his hands over their waist from behind, but tilted their head back to look at him and flashed a beaming smile. He kissed their lips, lingering a bit too much to Levi’s liking, forcing him to avert his gaze in a burst of decency.

“By the Walls Zeke, I missed you so much!” Hange asked between kisses. “I’ve been waiting for you all day! Where have you been?”

Levi felt more and more like a creep, staring at the couple.

“Yelena missed her train to her parents' town so I gave her a drive there. Thought you wouldn’t mind, Honey!”

“Oh, Yelena… Of course I don’t mind!” Their voice faltered uncharacteristically.

Levi’s chest tightened as he noticed the way Hange’s face fell with their half-assed reply. How could someone be oblivious or careless enough to let down someone as kind as Hange on their own birthday? How could someone be cruel enough and bear to swipe Hange’s bright smile off their face?

That monkey could, of course.

Hange’s smile quickly came back to enlighten their face though. They got up, fidgeting with the paper napkin they still held in their hands. They tittered and gestured between both men.

“Oh, I'm sorry! Let me introduce you, guys!” they blurted out. “Zeke Darling, this is Levi Ackerman, Erwin’s best friend. Shorty, this is my fiancé Zeke Jaeger.”

Levi got up, gritting his teeth as he extended his hand and shook Zeke’s in a tight grip.

“What are the odds! You’re both renowned architects now I think about it!” Hange exclaimed cheerfully.

“Oh but your friend and I have already met before Honey!” The blond man smirked. “I won the Trost Finance Center building project over him!”

Zeke let go of Levi’s hand.

“Nice to see you again Ackerman,” he added with a feigned joviality.

He snaked his arm around Hange’s waist to pull them closer.

“Let’s go Honey! It’s getting late and I’d like to make it up to you tonight,” he said in a disgusting husky voice, shamelessly kissing his fiancée’s skin under their ear until they blushed and gasped like a shy teenager. Levi clenched his fists.

Hange stuttered as they bid him goodbye, promising to meet again soon over a cup of coffee, and waved to their hosts and best friend before heading to their car. They giggled when Zeke slid his hand down the small of their back and over their ass, whispering something in their ear as they walked down the driveway.

Levi’s eyes followed the rear lights until the car turned left at the end of the street, leaving a hollow feeling in his guts.

A friendly arm wrapped around his shoulder and Nanaba dragged him towards the house.

“C’mon Munchkin, let’s grab a beer and order a pizza!”

She pecked him on the cheek.

“So fucking gross Nana, I can’t stand wet kisses,” he grumbled.

“Of course you can’t sweetie.”

But he couldn’t help but smile when she pulled him closer to kiss him again and burst out laughing when he swiftly wiped his cheek.

Levi relished in the cool sensation of the breeze over his skin and the comforting warmth of his tea. The chirping of crickets nearby was lulling him into a peaceful slumber. He felt his stiff shoulders, his clenched jaw, his tense nape finally relax.

“So, Hange…” Erwin started once Nanaba had left and Miche had gone to bed.

“The fuck are you talking ‘bout Four-Eyes?” he replied, all the tension washing back over him.

Erwin raised his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “You seemed to get along well today, is all.”

Here we go, you blond bastard.

Erwin’s speech was only getting started and pain already throbbed in his head. Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Yeah, ‘twas nice to catch up after all those years. They’re not so bad to talk to.” He paused.  “Distracted me from this shitty life of mine for a bit.”

“I could tell.” Erwin took a sip of coffee and placed the cup back on the saucer. “You didn’t seem to enjoy Zeke’s company though.”

“That monkey? Hell no! You know how dirty he played with the Finance Tower project and fucked me over! How could I ever want to see this shithead again, you dumbass?”

Erwin knew better than to reply yet.

“How this brainiac is engaged to such a jerk is beyond me! Like, it’s their birthday and he shows up when the party's over, with all his lovey-dovey shit to cover up how he spent the afternoon with someone else instead… Disrespectful at the very least ‘f you ask me!”

Erwin smirked at his friend’s rant.

“What’s with the smirk, moron?”

“Nothing really.” Erwin’s gaze softened. “I don’t remember hearing you say so many words in one go. Ever. I wonder what got into you.” He chuckled.

Levi clicked his tongue. “Nothing special. We were having a nice little talk with Four-Eyes and I started to forget the crap piling up in my life at the moment and that fucking monkey ruined it all.”

Silence settled for a few minutes between both men.

“Seemed to do you good talking with someone else. You’re gonna hang with them again? I mean Hange.” Erwin asked after a while.

“Er yeah I guess… They mentioned a cup of coffee or shit some day soon.”

“Good! We’re your friends and we’re all worried about you, Levi. But, as you won't talk to us then talk with Hange. Anything that makes you feel better.”

Levi facepalmed to soothe the increasing pounding in his head and sighed.

“Could you mind your own fucking business for once, Blondie?” he hissed, rubbing his temples in a circle. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Erwin stood up, put a hand on Levi’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“Well, I’ll leave you alone then.”

He scooped his coffee cup off the table and took a few steps towards the door before turning around.

“Try to sleep tonight. You need to get some rest.”

Levi remained silent.

Erwin’s steps echoed in the evening darkness and he stopped briefly when gripping the handle.

“Good night Levi. See you tomorrow.”

As the door softly clicked shut, Levi let out a sharp breath he was holding for some time.

Yeah. Another day full of crap. The sparkle Hange had briefly brought in his otherwise dull life today was at least something he supposed.

“Shit! Life sucks, huh Four-Eyes?” he muttered to himself. His day couldn’t get any shittier than it already was, right?

Something vibrated in his back pocket. He fished his phone and answered without even thinking.

“Levi?” Petra’s voice. His body stiffened.

“Uhm yeah…” He ran his fingers through his hair to try and shut down his nervousness.

“We need to talk.”

Requested by anon // Prompt #30 "Where have you been?" from this drabble challenge

Proofreading @dont-f-with-moogles Thank you so much for your help Terra Darling 🩶

Header & dividers @youre-ackermine

A/N: Crossposted on AO3 as chapter 2 of my series It's not like I've got something grand to say to you // This takes place one year before Dumbstruck // English is not my usual language

[cherienymphe]

Love Bites III (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, suicidal thoughts, vampire!Avengers, mentions of Peter x reader, bloodplay, violence, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, jealous!Steve, modern setting they just wealthy af

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: In a coven, the master’s word is law, and humans are nothing more than pets to symbolize wealth and prestige. They tell you that being the master’s pet is a great honor, but the poorly constructed façade is broken when you forsake honor for love.

~

Your reflection stared back at you as you gazed into the mirror, feeling so far removed from your body as you brushed your fingers over the faint bite marks on your neck. They were something to be worn with pride, something to be admired—coveted even—but as you stared at them, all you could see was the physical evidence of your imprisonment.

As your lips parted, memories of a sweet-natured and soft-hearted vampire came to mind.

You absentmindedly wondered if you would’ve worn Peter’s mark with pride had you been given the option, and the silent question seemed almost silly because the answer was obvious. You would’ve happily let Peter leave whatever mark he wanted on you, because that would’ve been different. It would’ve been a mark you consented to, a mark that came from you willingly giving yourself to the dark-haired vampire. That kind of mark would’ve been the result of you surrendering yourself to him with perfect trust, and he in turn choosing to handle your trust and vulnerability with care.

It would’ve been a mark of love.

Such a thought almost brought tears to your eyes, but you pushed them back, refusing to let Steve smell them and come running. The thought of the blond angered you in a way that was hard to even describe. Since that night he’d raped you again, unable to stomach your refusal of him any longer, you hadn’t so much as given him a hint of anything less than a cold disposition.

Yes, you smiled at him when it was important, and you responded when he asked you things, but it was never with anything more than a tight and forced curve of your lips. Your tone never went beyond anything that could be deemed a polite neutrality. Even when he drank from you, you closed your eyes and held yourself as still as you could be.

A mere tolerance of Steve and your situation had turned into nothing short of repulsion.

It really hadn’t occurred to you just how much you hated all of this until Peter was no longer around to make it easier to swallow. You didn’t have a single friend in this place, every person in your vicinity loyal to Steve above all. It was lonely and depressing in ways that were too painful to think about, and with the knowledge that you were so close to one more year around the sun, you found yourself wondering if you had the strength to do this until the end of your days.

You had never considered ending it all until Peter was gone.

With him around, you’d at least still had something to look forward to, something to put a smile on your face when you woke up in the morning. Now…you had nothing. Your days consisted of nothing but Steve and his every whim, and when you stopped to think about living out the rest of your life exactly like this, it overwhelmed you.

“Steve is starting to get impatient, Y/N.”

The sound of Nat’s voice accompanied by a knock on your bathroom door was enough to pull you from your depressing thoughts. With a sigh, you straightened your dress and swiftly joined her in your bedroom. She was focused on fixing her lipstick when your gaze met hers, and she closed her compact with a comforting smile.

“I was starting to think you’d taken a swim in there,” she teased, gently pulling you along. “You know how Steve gets when you keep him waiting.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, swallowing down what you were initially going to say.

“I’m sorry,” you evenly apologized, knowing that Steve could hear. “I just got lost in my head for a bit.”

You could feel the redhead’s eyes on you as she guided you towards the hall, and she let out a hum.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” she mused. “Should I talk to Steve about having someone come and see you? You know how important it is that you’re healthy.”

You both knew that she wasn’t just referencing your physical health, and such a comment almost made you laugh. If any of them had genuinely cared about your mental health and happiness, then someone would’ve talked Steve out of turning Peter to ash. The bitterness was hard to swallow, but you managed, turning to look at her with a small smile.

“No, it’s nothing more than birthday musings.”

At the mention of the date just around the corner, her beautiful face lit up.

“Are you excited? One year older…”

While the powerful beings around you celebrated their own birthdays, it wasn’t the same nor nearly as exciting as physically aging and literally being one year closer to death. At least, that was what Peter had told you once. He’d made it known just how fascinated they all were by the subtle signs of aging, the smile lines that weren’t there before, the maturity in the face that wasn’t there before. Something about the fragility and tragedy of it all, he’d said.

How funny that he had met his end before you.

“As excited as I was last year,” you told her as she walked you down the hall.

That wasn’t entirely true. You were much more excited last year for reasons that were obvious to you, and this year, you couldn’t muster up anything beyond a dreaded anxiousness. There was nothing to be excited about in your opinion, but to make matters worse, you would swear that Nat seemed more excited this year than she was last year.

There was a twinkle in her eye whenever the topic came up, and whatever they had up their sleeve, you only wanted them to get it over with.

It was a cloudy and starless night when you both made it outside, Steve standing by the car with a slightly pinched look on his face. You said nothing as Natasha apologized to him for the delay, quickly joining Bucky before they both disappeared into the other car. You ignored the feel of his intense gaze as the driver opened the door for you both, Steve’s touch almost nonexistent as he guided you into the back seat.

This was the first time you would ever be leaving the grounds, and instead of feeling something akin to excitement, you only felt…numb. Something about a gathering every hundred years or so, and how lucky for you that the next one coincided with your time as Steve’s pet. It was another mansion full of more vampires who’d see you nothing more than Steve’s property.

There was nothing in you that looked forward to this night.

“We’re almost late because of you.”

Steve’s voice filled the car, the partition providing some privacy.

“I’m sorry,” you halfheartedly murmured. “I lost track of time.”

You could feel his eyes on you as you looked out of the tinted window, and your silent prayers that he’d leave you be for the duration of the ride went unanswered. Your heart sank when you felt his hand reach for yours, cold hand clasping with yours.

“Natasha has impeccable taste per usual. I hate when the dresses she picks out are better than anything I come up with,” he told you.

At that, your eyes fell to the black fabric, the sheer extravagance of it all, fingering the bow around your waist. Natasha enjoyed playing dress up with her human doll while Steve had a habit of wanting you to look like the piece of meat you were. It had sparked many an argument between them with the redhead always walking away a winner.

“I’d die before letting her know that though,” he hummed, tone mirthful, and with a deep breath, you threw him a polite smile.

It wasn’t lost on Steve, and so you shouldn’t have been surprised to hear him heave a sigh, letting you go.

“I understand that the technical age difference between us is monumental, but you are still an adult. This…habit of refusing to act like it as of late is getting old. Don’t you think…?”

You fought with yourself on whether or not to engage in this back and forth with him or not.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Steve,” you breathed, gaze still on the passing trees outside.

You sharply inhaled when your breathing was suddenly obstructed, Steve’s hand around your throat and only growing tighter by the second. Losing your cool for a moment, you reached up, grasping his arm and looking at him through wide eyes. His own baby blues were unreadable, pink lips pressed together as he studied you.

“You’re behaving like a child.”

“I haven’t-.”

“Do you think just because you’re not cursing my name that the whole coven can’t see you’re angry with me?”

Steve’s lips brushed your cheek as he leaned in, and when he loosened his hold ever so slightly, you knew that he actually wanted an answer.

“I’m not,” you forced out.

Steve hummed, tightening his hand a bit.

“You are…but that’s okay,” he quietly said, pulling away. “Let’s just get through tonight.”

He fixed the top of your dress as well as the choker around your throat.

“You will not embarrass me,” he continued, and you stared ahead as he stroked your cheek. “For your sake…because you know how much I hate it when you force my hand.”

You blinked, ignoring the sting behind your eyes as Steve leaned back in his seat, heaving a heavy sigh.

“She is quite the pretty thing, isn’t she?”

The smile on your face was tight, fingers around your drink tighter as the strange woman reached out to touch your chin. Nakia, if you remembered correctly. She was just as breathtaking as the rest, her dark eyes drinking you in as she talked to the woman next to her.

“I’d heard years ago that Steve had taken a new pet. I’m so glad you’re still alive so that I could meet you,” the other woman said, her dark hair contrasting with her fair skin. “He has such a temper, that one. Hardly a tolerance for anything.”

They chuckled amongst themselves, and you forced yourself to swallow down your disgust and disturbance at how casually they spoke of the death of innocent people before your time. Yes, you’d heard the odd comment here and there over the years of how you weren’t the first of Steve’s trinkets.

You were just the first to last this long.

Your oh so gracious owner was off mingling with the host of this soiree, a burly blond man with the deepest voice you’d ever heard. You recalled the way his multicolored eyes had appreciatively taken you in, nodding to himself and Steve as if he was congratulating the other man on a job well done. You really hated that it took Peter’s death to fully realize just how much you really detested all of this.

You felt like you were in hell.

…and the devil himself was fast approaching.

The women with you quieted at Steve’s advance, quietly slipping away after acknowledging him. You, however, were focused on the woman at his side. You’d only seen her once, and that was earlier in the night when you’d been introduced to her husband, Thor. They made an attractive couple, positive that the brunette’s natural beauty had only been enhanced after her transition.

“Y/N, you remember Jane.”

Steve hadn’t been happy with you most of the evening, and the slight warning in his blue gaze had your tight smile softening some.

“Of course, it’s lovely to meet you again,” you told her.

“You as well. I mentioned to Steve here that you must be so lonely with so few of your kind around, and he suggested we get to know one another better. He thought it might be good for you,” she gently replied.

She seemed kind enough, kinder than most you’d been around, but there was something in her smile that seemed…off. She and Steve shared one last look as he left you, and the woman with the kind eyes looped her arm with yours.

“Every century the neighboring covens get together to discuss their discretion and orders of succession and all that,” she eventually started as you both slowly made your way outside.

Where Steve’s estate was dark and imposing and stereotypical in every way, Thor’s mansion was much brighter and welcoming. There was a Norse quality about the architecture, and something in you—when combined with the origin of Thor’s name—wondered just how old the blond was. Jane paused in front of a happy statue, gazing up at it with a small smile.

“This is my first time too, and I don’t doubt that you find it as boring as I do,” she confessed, shocking you.

You frowned at her a bit, having not realized just how young she was in their years, and you blinked. Even Peter had been over a hundred, and you silently wondered when she’d been turned. You didn’t dare ask, both because it wasn’t your business and also because a good chunk of you couldn’t care less. However, your interest was piqued when she answered your silent question.

“I’ve been like this for maybe…seven years now?”

Your eyes widened at that, meeting her honey brown gaze.

“I think you’re the youngest I’ve ever met,” you told her, voicing your thoughts.

Her kindness and softness suddenly made a lot more sense. There was still so much humanity left in her, her human life still fresh in her spirit, her short years as a vampire unsuccessful in desensitizing her and leaving her void of empathy. So far, anyway. She tilted her head from side to side, seemingly mulling it over with a hum.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I’m definitely the youngest I know of…as of yet.”

She looked back to the statue at that, and something about that last comment made your chest ache. Only you didn’t know why.

“Thor made me,” she breathed, sounding happy about the fact. “He decided that he didn’t want to be without me, and I’d felt the same for some time at that point.”

The details that she was leaving out had your mind whirling, and she soon put you out of your misery.

“There was a time where I belonged to him just as you belong to Steve.”

She finally looked at you again as she told you this, and you were unable to hide your shock, lips parting.

“…what?”

It wasn’t unheard of, but it definitely wasn’t common either. Humans were pets, and pets were property, but let Natasha tell it, there had been the odd case of a human pet becoming a lover and eventually…a consort. An eternal companion.

“I see,” you eventually added, getting a hold of yourself. “Well…I suppose I’m happy for you.”

The way she studied you made you uncomfortable, and you found yourself playing with your hands.

“Thor was kind to me, always had been, and he treated me like nothing less than a princess.”

You didn’t really have a response to that. After all, how kind—how well could he really treat her—if he had been keeping her prisoner to feed off of for years? Jane certainly seemed happy enough, but you kept your thoughts to yourself on how you saw her situation as nothing more than a glorified victim. She’d fallen for her captor, not unheard of, and no less tragic just because she was like him, now.

“Steve is quite taken with you.”

That came out of nowhere to you, and you looked at her again. Again, there was something in her small smile that unnerved you, a glint in her eye that made your stomach twist. For the strangest reason, you felt like there was something you were missing, and you didn’t like it.

“After all, the rumor is he’s never kept a human this long before. I hear he doesn’t tolerate much,” she continued.

“That’s not untrue. I dare say I have another…one…maybe two years before he’s finally fed up with me,” you lightly teased although there was a hint of seriousness in your tone.

Deep down, you hoped that it was less.

Jane laughed, and your eyes met hers as she reached out to adjust your necklace.

“Silly girl,” she gently admonished. “I can’t foresee Steve ever being rid of you. He’s much too obsessed with you for that. Watches you like a hawk, that one does.”

You swallowed uncomfortably, stepping out of her reach a tad and watching as her hand fell.

“Well, he’ll have no choice someday. I am human, after all.”

Jane tilted her head, shoulder length brown hair kissing her skin as she studied you. There was a slight frown on her face as she dragged her gaze over you.

“For now.”

Those two simple words had your heart stuttering, and your face fell as you gave her your undivided attention.

“There’s quite an easy fix to ensure you’re at his side forever,” she reminded you, and it was then…

That you understood.

You took another step back from her, almost stumbling in your heels, and you couldn’t fix your mouth to form the words that your mind wanted to say. This entire conversation was stirring up thoughts you didn’t even want to entertain, didn’t even want to consider, because the thought was preposterous. Horrifying even, but why else?

Why else would Steve think it’d be good for the two of you to talk? Of all the new vampires in the world, why the one whose former master had made her like him so that she could be with him forever? Why her? You tried to push it down, but it assaulted your mind anyway, and you dazedly shook your head at her, apologizing before excusing yourself.

There was blood rushing in your ears, and you pressed your hand to your chest as you stumbled back inside, fighting to calm your heart for multiple reasons.

No.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even want to think it, but it couldn’t be helped. Steve wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t, but as you repeated that to yourself, you wondered how true that was. Wasn’t it months ago that he’d killed the love of your life out of jealousy and some misguided belief that he loved you? Hadn’t he killed a vampire he’d known and had been intimate with for centuries for the same reasons?

Tears kissed your eyes as you stared at the floor, feeling just as cold as Steve did to the touch.

There had been a time when the prospect of eternal life called to you, back when the man you loved was till around. You’d only wanted to live forever if it were with him, and once he was out of the picture, all thoughts of that had ceased. You had never entertained the thought of becoming a vampire anyway, and especially not with Steve. Why would you?

You leaned against the wall, a few tears spilling over as you fought with yourself, telling yourself that you were just getting a head of yourself, that’s all. Jane’s own thoughts in regard to your mortality didn’t mean they were Steve’s. Maybe it was all in your head, a mere coincidence, but the refusal to believe otherwise didn’t prevent your legs from faltering, hand sliding along the wall as you struggled to keep yourself upright.

“Steve, she’ll be fine. Listen… She’s waking up, see?”

Sam’s voice seemed so loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you grimaced as your senses came back to you, greeted with none other than a headache. You really didn’t want to open your eyes, but pretending to be asleep in a room full of vampires had never and would never work. With reluctance, you peeled them open, staring up at a familiar ceiling.

You heard a deep exhale, and it wasn’t long before you were joined on the bed, a hand on your forehead.

You didn’t need to look over to know that it was Steve.

“…and you’re sure she’s alright?”

“No concussion or anything of the sort. Nothing to be concerned with either. It appears she just fainted, perhaps lightheaded or hungry.”

Dr. Banner’s voice was surprising to hear. It had been some time since you’d seen the dark-haired vampire, and you slowly looked over as he wrote something down on a clipboard. Sam was standing behind him while Natasha and Bucky sat on your couch, the redhead the picture of concern while her husband appeared as if he couldn’t care less.

“So, she’s been neglecting herself.”

Your heart dropped at the drop in Steve’s tone, and you hesitantly glanced up, finally looking at the blond and unsurprised to find his gaze already on you. He didn’t look happy, and you looked away, mentally preparing yourself for an earful.

“I wouldn’t say that. Humans are fragile, Steve, you know this. Any number of things could’ve caused her to feel faint, and seeing as no one was around to witness the moments prior, who is to say what really caused it. All that matters is she is healthy,” Dr. Banner argued.

You crossed your arms over your chest as they finished discussing you, and when Steve dismissed the other three after Dr. Banner’s departure, you sighed.

“Had you eaten?”

“Yes, Steve, I ate,” you assured him. “I just got lightheaded is all.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you knew that he wouldn’t be looking away anytime soon, so you finally lifted your gaze again.

“I found you,” he confessed, jaw taut, and you almost wished he hadn’t.

There was no telling the thoughts in his head when he saw you lying there.

“I heard your heart beat faster than it ever had before…and then it slowed so suddenly I thought you were dead.”

“Well…I’m not, so…”

“You scared me.”

“Why?” you harshly asked, gaze accusatory as you narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m easily replaceable. If I die…I’m sure you can find another woman to kidnap.”

The blond harshly looked away at that, and you eyed him as he rested a hand on his hip.

“You say that so callously…like it wouldn’t hurt me to bury you,” he murmured, and your frown deepened.

“It shouldn’t. Who am I to you other than a warm body and a nightly cocktail?”

You jumped when he swiped a figurine off of your table. It had been a gift from him years ago, and you swallowed when his cold eyes met yours. Right. Let Steve tell it, he loved you, and that same thought that’d made you faint hours earlier threatened to overtake you again. You dismissively looked away from him, and considering how many times it had been pointed out to you tonight, you wondered what line you’d eventually cross that would push Steve to just…drain you dry.

“I’ve told you before Steve…you don’t know what love is,” you quietly said, staring at your sheets. “…and while I don’t doubt the worry you felt when you found me tonight, I do doubt that it had anything to do with love.”

You desperately wanted to ask him why he’d been so keen on you talking to Jane tonight. You wanted to ask him if he’d ever entertained the thought of turning you for himself, keeping you at his side forever and dragging out what should’ve been one miserable lifetime into infinite. You wanted to…but you were so terrified of the answer.

You were confident that Steve wouldn’t, but there was some small part of you that said otherwise, and the more you laid there, the bigger that part of you became. The voice became louder, whispering the unthinkable, and you turned over, quietly and politely asking Steve to leave you be. You were sure he wouldn’t drink from you tonight, but you wanted him gone, nonetheless.

…because if there was truth to your newfound fears…

You would slit your throat in a heartbeat.

Steve listened to you, albeit reluctantly, but not without nearing your bed and resting his hand on your forehead again. He stood there for some time, just standing over you and watching you, and you squeezed your eyes shut when he brushed his thumb over your skin. Your eyes burned when he leaned down, pressing his lips into your hair and deeply inhaling. It was too reminiscent of something he wasn’t, too much like a lover, and you only relaxed again when he was gone.

The morning of your birthday was greeted with the finest of foods and finest of gifts. No different than the years before, but all the more depressing. Last year, you’d eaten your breakfast with the excitement of seeing Peter afterwards. You had smiled at Natasha as she ran you a milk bath, playing with the rose petals because you knew that you’d be spending most of your day with Peter. His presence had made the grand fanfare of your party something meaningful instead of the conceited and egotistic brag of Steve that it actually was.

Today, however…

Today you had nothing and no one to look forward to.

You were polite as you opened gift after gift, thanking Natasha for the dress or Sam for the bracelet or Bucky for the wine. The last one was done with a barely hidden sneer. After all, the wine was more so a gift for Steve than for you, the saccharine drink given with the purpose of making your blood taste sweeter.

Nothing about this day was actually for you.

Every gift and every praise were done to exalt Steve.

You had to look your best at your party tonight because anything less, and you’d embarrass Steve. Everyone had to ooh at the pretty jewelry Steve’s pet wore. Everyone had to aah at the gorgeous dress Steve’s pet wore. Everyone had to see how lavishly he spoiled you, how well he looked after you, how wonderful a master he was.

It made you sick.

“It might get old after some time, but it really is so exciting to celebrate an actual birthday,” Natasha told you as she dragged the small brush over your lips. “It’s so miniscule or even non existent with human eyes, I’m sure, but you do look a whole year older.”

“I feel ten years older,” you half joked.

She chuckled at the comment, either unaware or completely ignoring the implication that you felt so aged after Peter’s death.

“A mortal life is really so fleeting. A blink of an eye to us,” she mused with a small frown. “I swear, it was just yesterday that you were first brought here.”

The redhead paused, looking down at you with a wistful gaze.

“So young…so terrified…”

She hummed, continuing with her work.

You tried not to think of those first few months you were here. They were too painful, to be honest. After all, what was there to look back on but the loss of your best friend by the very same man you were forced to be around all the time? The years gone by had done nothing to lessen the anger and hurt every time you looked at Bucky.

An average day to him was one of the worst of your life.

When Natasha felt satisfied enough with you, she smiled, brushing her hand along your cheek.

“You look so radiant…like a birthday girl,” she praised. “Steve will be pleased.”

Your face fell some at that, reminded that once again, a compliment for you was never actually for you.

Like last year, the manor was full of vampires with the occasional human pet tagging along. Unlike last year though, there were way more people in attendance. You even caught sight of Thor and Jane, and you thought it was ironically fitting that the one year full of more extravagance and fanfare than the others was the one year you just wanted to drop dead.

Natasha was right, of course.

Steve was more than pleased with your look for the night, and he gave her a thankful nod as he took your hand. His own was gentle in yours, and you pointedly ignored the way he brushed his thumb over the back of it. Steve looked as impeccable as he always did, and your gaze passed over him as you looked around the room.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

You took a deep breath before looking at him with the perfect smile.

“Thank you, Steve.”

He stared into your eyes for a few moments before his own smile grew, satisfaction crossing his features at your dedication to be on your best behavior. When his small smile shifted into a small smirk, you were tempted to be defiant just for the hell of it.

He brought your hand to his lips as he walked through the room, leading you to the head table.

You spent so much of the night repeating empty thanks to faces both familiar and those not. You were positive not a single compliment was genuine, every one accompanied with another compliment to Steve. She looks as radiant as always. You take such good care of her. She’s the perfect reflection of you. It was dehumanizing in a way you couldn’t even articulate, and you thought that you’d be used to it after years, but again…

With Peter not around to soften the blow…

When you danced with Steve, you didn’t look at him. You kept your gaze on the guests around you, giving the impression of a thankful birthday girl when in actuality, you couldn’t really stomach the sight of Steve. An entire day that should’ve been dedicated to you being dedicated to him in a roundabout way instead was too disheartening.

“You look better,” he whispered in your ear. “You heart sounds strong too.”

You swallowed a sigh, your smile falling some.

“If I didn’t…would that stop you from coming to me tonight and doing what you’ve wanted to do for days?”

“Didn’t it stop me already?”

You didn’t respond to that, only sending Natasha a forced smile when you caught her eye. Steve’s hands fell to your waist, and he lifted you a tad as he spun you, sharp teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“It’s your birthday, my love…” your heart dropped at that. “Smile and be happy.”

You were still looking at him strangely when he led you back to the table, wondering where on earth such a term of endearment had come from. You pushed it away when he left you there, Natasha immediately pulling you into conversation. It was hard to focus, the feel of Steve’s hand in yours and the sound of his voice in your ear on your mind.

My love?

You wondered if centuries on this earth could drive a vampire mad. Nothing about what you and Steve had was loving, and it seemed that no matter how many times you pointed that out to him, he only became more deluded. It was like trying to get through a brick wall, and when the time came for Steve to give you his gift, you only wanted this night to be over.

“Y/N has been a part of this coven for years, now,” Steve said, standing beside you as you sat. “Something both surprising to others and myself…but I’ve come to find great comfort at the sight of her face every day.”

You looked up at him in wonder, thinking to yourself that his birthday speech from last year was far less intimate and more appreciative of the blood you unwillingly provided him a few times a week. You watched as he opened the jewelry box you’d seen him fiddle with all evening. The light glinted off of the necklace.

The diamonds were plentiful, but what caught your eye—and what was probably meant to—was the green stone at the center of it. Everything Steve had ever given you was excessive in some way, but this was different. It didn’t look like something passed down through the generations or some nice ring to compliment your fingers.

This was a necklace bought with intention.

You felt uneasy as Steve guided you to stand, fingers lingering on yours a bit before moving behind you. You looked everywhere and nowhere all at once, afraid to catch anyone’s eye. You were used to the attention, especially on this day, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest from growing. The necklace was cool against your skin, and you shuddered as it pressed into your throat with the tightening of Steve’s hand.

You swallowed, tempted to reach up when he finally loosened his hold, hooking it closed and adjusting it to his liking.

“You deserve nothing but the best on your birthday, but this necklace is fit for a queen,” Steve said, speaking to you now. “A mistress of the house.”

You slowly turned to look at him at that, face falling. Steve reached out, touching your face, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes burned at the meaning behind his words, telling yourself that it wasn’t what you thought.

“I’ve ruled this coven by myself for centuries…”

“Steve…”

“…and you’ve only been by my side for a few short years of that, but I intend to rule centuries more…with you right next to me.”

Your hands shook, and you realized that the loud noise in your ears wasn’t the rush of your blood or even your loud heartbeat, but instead the awed excitement of all the vampires before you. Steve took your hand, pulling you closer, and in your confusion, you stumbled towards him.

“As my wife…my eternal lover…my consort.”

~

tags:@xoxabs88xox  @mcudarklibrary @darkficsyouneveraskedfor  @notyourtypicalrose @sebabestianstan101 @opheliadawnwalker3 @pinkzsugar @villanellevi @cheeseburgersstuff @navybrat817 @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines

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[hpowellsmith]

I just read your answer to the ask about Noblesse Oblige face claims, and I was really impressed by how concisely you managed to specify what you wanted your characters to look like.

When describing characters' appearances, what kind of things do you do to capture their look so effectively?

(this is referring to this post!)

I really appreciate that! Honestly, it's been quite a journey getting more comfortable/confident with describing characters in detail, because I don't always visualise images in my mind very clearly and rarely imagine images like watching a film when I read. The characters in Noblesse Oblige and Honor Bound have felt visually clearer in my head than ones in my earlier games, even though I've have a strong sense of their personalities and mannerisms throughout all of them.

In short, as I've written more, I've got better at it.

I tend to write the sort of descriptions I like to read. With all descriptions I want it to make sense why the narrative is focusing on them. So if an MC and NPC are having a chat about something important, I'll likely not linger on their blonde hair or brown eyes unless the MC happens to have got distracted by how nice the NPC looks today or is specifically looking into their eyes for whatever reason. Unless there's a reason to mention it, the details are incidental and can become repetitive and distracting.

If the character's appearance is unusual or has changed, or the MC is romantically interested in the NPC, that's more of a reason for me to focus on particular elements but I try to vary it.

I also like thinking about non-visual elements. When I've included MC heights and builds, I keep track of where NPCs are physically and how they stand in relation to the MC, whether they're looking up or down to talk to them or how far the MC's arms go round them if they have a hug. When an MC gets physically close to them (friendly, romantically, for practical reasons, etc) I try to think about details like how they smell, how their body and limbs feel, what facial or body hair they have, how their voice sounds and so on.

In particular when writing kiss scenes or anything else more intimate, I focus on showing what they're feeling about the MC and the moment, and how their body feels to touch as well as how they look. It makes the scene feel more grounded in reality for me and less like I'm posing action figures!

Even when they're not physically close to each other, I try to think about how characters move, sit, or stand, and what it's like to see them across a room. All of this combined with their dialogue helps make them feel like a fleshed-out character rather than a stationary cardboard cutout or a talking doll. If I can picture how someone talks and looks while they're doing something else, like eating dinner, cleaning, walking, fighting, pulling up weeds, etc, I can better translate that onto the page.

Thank you for the ask, it was really interesting to think about!

[bluehairlaunch]

Top 7 WORST Dragon Ball Transformations

Honorable mention: Beast Zarbon

Because they turned my muscle twink into a bear...

Super Saiyan God

This fucker. As much as I like Battle of Gods, this redhead continued a trend that started with a green tinged Broly and ended with orange fucking Piccolo and a cast of otter pop flavored Super Saiyans.

At least Super Saiyan 4 wasn't just a recolor of a recolor...

Orange Piccolo

Speaking of lazy, visually unappealing, late stage capitalism embodying recolors, Piccolo is orange now. Yes I know he hasn't been relevant in a fight since his introduction in the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament and briefly when Toriyama remembered against Second Form Frieza and Imperfect Cell, but it's ok, don't worry kids, HE'S ORANGE.

Super Android 13

How is there still downhill from a trucker hat? Do you like this? Leave a comment on this webzone if you like this? Explain why you like his Vegeta hair and 90s earrings if you like this. Detail your obsession with blue skinned gingers if you like this.

Third Form Frieza

Why is he a xenomorph? Why is he a xenomorph?! I guess I wasn't expecting him to be a xenomorph, which is typical for Toriyama, but WHY IS HE A XENOMORPH??? Like it's weird he's the alien from Alien, right? And it's weirder that he's almost 1:1 the pirate robot Goku fought in OG Dragon Ball

Fifth Form Cooler

Oh fuck you. You fucking piece of shit. Fifth form? You're so non-canon it hurts. This couldn't just be his second form or idk his third form, since Frieza's second form was already Cooler. But it's his fifth! And Goku has to be there, because it's filler, so the threat needs to be bigger. It's not like the Frieza race are shapeshifters. Of course they're not dipshit, they all follow the same template. They're like the evolution chart detailing prehistoric ape to cromagnon man to blond guy. And this is his fifth form!

Imagine if this had been a Piccolo movie set while Goku was on Yardrat. We have Frieza's bro, who's not just miraculous stronger despite never doing anything about it, but he's still more powerful than the second form Frieza Piccolo fought. Idk. Fuck Coola

Super Buu

This one is basically a Dragon Ball IQ test. At first glance he looks ok, maybe even cool. However, those with sufficient gray matter can easily ascertain that he's actually garbage, and that Fat Buu was the best design all along. He's just so generic looking, which is almost impressive for a guy so pink and sponge-y looking. Oh. And his transformation includes raiding people's wardrobe without realizing that shit don't even match

Super Saiyan 3

See, a bad transformation isn't just about aesthetics. And don't get me wrong, the aesthetics are also awful. That caveman brow, the Raditz hair, those obscene spikes. But no, the worst part about Super Saiyan 3, the thing that I truly absolutely despise, is how effortlessly it cheapens Super Saiyan and Gohan's feat of going Beyond Super Saiyan

Because everyone had that thought the second Trunks arrived and went blond. That they could do it. Gohan, Vegeta, Ghost of Nappa, and any other Saiyan that might be out there. All of them could go Super Saiyan now, it's not prophecy after all. And that leads to the question of escalation. What next?

Well the Cell Saga answered this. Gohan was next. He went Beyond Super Saiyan. The boy did what his dad don't, he fucking mastered that shit. Then out comes Super Saiyan 3 like a baaaaad fart. But it only gets worse. It's a flawed, incomplete transformation that only works if you're dead. It's strong, but burns through energy faster than the body can collect it. And that's that. Dragon Ball ends, Goku saving the day without even using his new form. Dragon Ball GT introduces SS4 and DBS provides a crayon box of recolors for you to shove up your nose, all the while Super Saiyan 3 is left in the dust. It came, we all saw it, it sucked.

[cupidford]

It's not the end of spring yet, but I've read a crazy amount the last few months so here we go with twenty amazing reads!!

I've got so many more in the arsenal to share with yall!

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Light by Vanimedla4

Battling his addiction and depression, Sherlock moves to a lighthouse where he plans to end his life. He is stopped by John, a ghost. ~102k

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

The Q-Axis by Calais_Reno

Assassin John leaves a stalled train and attempts to find his way to the surface. Once above ground, he begins to notice puzzling discrepancies in the world around him. He calls this new reality the Q-axis. Meanwhile, detective Sherlock Holmes tries to solve a series of puzzling murders, all of which seem linked to a man who doesn’t exist. ~81.5k

All This Time by stopthat

“We share a life,” John says, eyes searching. “Have you ever wanted anything more from me?” ~3.5k

💛💛💛💛💛

Matchmaking for Solitary Animals by ArwaMachine

Following Sherlock’s return from the dead, he entertains gentlemen callers, a fact that seems to make John irrationally angry. Intent on proving that he’s not a dick, John makes it his mission to find Sherlock a boyfriend. Switchlock, ish toplock. ~72k

On an Eyelash by stopthat

Sherlock returns from the dead, but he and John don't talk about it. Until slowly they do, and between Christmas and Sherlock's birthday wishes really do come true. ~5k

The Art of Putting Up Shelves by Amyreadsandstresses

S3 fix it. Sherlock meets Adrian at a Chip Shop. They start a romantic relationship amongst the events of S3. Painful but lovely, and not Johnlock! ~19k

The Force of the Interaction by CorvidCordelia

Five Times John Thought About Sex and Sherlock and His Brain Broke + One Time It Didn't. Warning there is AdLock. ~17k

💚💚💚💚💚

A Christmas Stroll with Sherlock Holmes by aquileaofthelonelymountain

Sherlock offers a Christmas Stroll experience as a contribution to a local dog charity auction. The auction winners? None other than John and Rosie Watson. ~12k

Blue Plaques by JRow

John’s engagement is off, and he is back at the place he feels most at home — 221B Baker Street. In the process of solving a mystery, will John accidentally reveal a secret of his own? Asexual Sherlock. ~36.5k

noise complaint by simplyclockwork

One loud upstairs neighbour and three days of non-stop party music lead Sherlock to an unexpected meeting. Unilock, switchlock. ~85.5k

💙💙💙💙💙

Paper Men by Lurikko

Sherlock becomes obsessed with John having sex with women. John wonders if Sherlock is running an experiment or flirting? And after they start having sex themselves, are they actually in a relationship yet, or what exactly is going on? ~13.5k

You Have Demons (I Do Too) by wannabesir

ACD. Sherlock is fresh out of rehab and assigned community service thanks to his ever-spying brother Mycroft. At the theatre, he meets a blonde army doctor, turned actor, suffering from a PTSD flashback. ~105.5k

The Slow Dance and Death of a Carbon Copy by batslikepastel

After Mary's death, John starts spiraling. He starts mistaking Sherlock for Mary, the first sign of delusion, and Sherlock starts pretending to be her. 15.5k

the old songs by allsovacant

Sherlock vanishes after John and Mary's wedding. Five years later, John receives a text message from Sherlock asking for a chance to talk and clear the air between them. ~4.5k

Found by Callist

Life goes on in Baker Street, and it's time for a remodel to fit Rosie. As the project grows, John and Sherlock find something else growing between them. 11.5k

💜 HONORABLE MENTIONS 💜

body and soul by simplyclockwork

Established relationship. Sherlock knows himself as a man with refined tastes. In his opinion, John Watson is artwork of the highest calibre. ~3k

Meet Me on the Ice by consult_this_prick

Sherlock grows fond of the figure skater he sees before his hockey practices. ~6k

Places in the Mind by Calais_Reno

Post HLV. S3 fix it. John rescues Sherlock in Serbia after he is wounded. ~4.5k

Demitasse by oorsprong

Victorian ACD. We found ourselves at Pagani's upon nearly every successful completion of a case in unspoken celebration. ~1.5k

Community Service by Accident, Hobbitsfeet, Tindomerelhloni

Forensics Medical Examiner John H. Watson is forced to set up an office Christmas party with Sherlock Holmes. ~12.5k

[vaultfrozen]

ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴡ ɴᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴜʟʟɪᴠᴀɴ, ꜱᴏʟᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴏʀ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀᴜʟᴛ 111.

height: 6'3", muscular, broad shoulders. eyes: bright blue hair: blond age: appears 42, is 250+

affiliation: 2nd battalion, 108th infantry, us army sino-american war.

positive: patient, honest, reliable, kind. negative: defensive, self-destructive post-war, prone to heightened violent reaction around anything regarding deceased wife and missing son.

noticeable scarring: two gunshot wounds from the sino-am war (led to honorable discharge) both in torso after he was forced to abandon his power armor.

good to know: nate was hailed as a war hero. awarded the defense meritorious service medal (DMSM) for non-combat meritorious achievement. two years later, he's awarded the purple heart for being severely wounded in battle against the chinese forces and honorably discharged.

there are pre-war records that can be found in-and around boston and the neighboring cities that mention nate and his speeches. a terminal implies he's held in very high-regard, despite his anti-war stance. it is possible for nate to be recognized, but only if your muse is a history buff or searches bunkers.