#i hate it. ive always hated this window i have to watch others. but they all just. look at me strangely.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

What is Broken II (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)

The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity.

Author's Note: So, this did end up getting split in two. It just reached a natural stopping point and it made more sense to add a part IV instead of have an unnaturally long part II.

Taglist is done via reblogs

Series Masterlist

What is Broken

The next morning, she watched with red-rimmed eyes as the sun emerged over the horizon. As the brightness forced her to look away, she took a moment to thank whichever god had given her the foresight to send Aemond to sleep elsewhere. It had been another horrid night, and to explain it after all that had been said between them would have been far beyond miserable.

He would return soon, she was sure. With new honeyed words and gentle touches. With his beautiful pleading eye and perfect pouting mouth. With the softness of the elusive loving smile he reserved only for her.

Or did he? He had given Alys so many things she thought only they shared. Why wouldn’t he give the whore that smile as well?

The very thought had her stomach lurching again, but she raised herself to sit against the head of the bed and steeled herself against being sick. She took deep, controlled breaths, turned towards the eastern window to feel the fresh air coming off the bay, and set her mind free to wander.

Not entirely free, however. She did not let her thoughts go anywhere near her husband.

Instead, she thought of only nice things. The flowers that would soon bloom in the gardens with the coming of spring. The fresh fruits that would once more grace her table. Weather fine enough that she could ride through the Kingswood on her beloved steed, Litse, once more.

Eventually, the roiling faded, and she looked down to her stomach. “Kōdrȳsi rhinkpa jemo gaomua hae jālosa yno gaoman?” Is that as unpleasant for you as it is for me?

A soft thump near the top of her stomach felt very much like a noncommittal answer.

She laughed a little. “Iā jeme ñuha boteri raqāt daor?” Or do you enjoy making me suffer?

That question received no answer.

Just when she was about to say something more, she heard the door to her chambers creaking open and soft footsteps approaching. Of course, he would come to her so early; he had always slept so little. She clenched the sheets in her fists, preparing to face Aemond once more.

But it was not Aemond who walked through the door.

Instead of a single violet eye, she was met with a warm, brown, tear-filled pair that matched her own, and a helpless cry escaped her lips before desperate sobs overtook her. “Mama!”

Alicent ran to her side, taking her only remaining daughter in her arms and fighting back her tears. One hand rubbed soothing circles on her back while the other gently cupped her chin and lifted it so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Oh, my dearest girl…”

She buried her face in her mother’s rich auburn hair, savoring the comforting smell she’d known since infancy. There was no question that Alicent had been told about Aemond’s misdeeds – though whether he told her himself or she heard another way, she could not decide.

“I hate him,” she whispered weakly.

“No, you don’t,” Alicent countered immediately. She pulled away, took her hands, and softened her voice. “You are not capable of hating Aemond, my dear. Nor is he capable of hating you.”

“Then why did he do this to me?”

Alicent sighed, brow furrowing as she pondered her son’s actions. She did not have a good answer, for Aemond had always been the perfect son, save for the death of Lucerys Velaryon, and now, she supposed, this. It was behavior she had anticipated from Aegon, or had in the past. With her eldest son, she knew he acted out of his anger that he could not be the son his father wanted.

But with Aemond…

Aemond loved his wife. He was discontented with many things in his life – his position as the second son, his injury, and his father’s negligence – but never with her. His gaze had never strayed to any other woman, even before their engagement. Once they were betrothed, it was rare to find his gaze anywhere else but on her. He was so happy with her, always. What could have altered his devotion?

“I do not know,” Alicent finally answered. The words did little to soothe her weeping daughter. “Men… they can be wonderful when they truly love you. But even then, they have their weaknesses. Aemond was gone a very long time. Perhaps he was simply lonely?”

She shook her head and ripped her hands from her mother’s. “If he was lonely, he could have come back to me. He was supposed to return to me several times but never did.”

While Aemond was at Harrenhal, she, Aegon, and their grandsire had sent countless ravens asking for his return. Otto and Aegon asked so they could hear the news from the battlefield and try to adjust their plans accordingly. She asked because she missed and needed him. Badly.

He always sent some excuse. The battle was not yet over. Vhagar was too tired to fly. He did not want to leave his stronghold undefended when enemies lurked nearby. She had trusted each excuse like a fool.

“Did you know she’s carrying his child?” she asked, drawing the blankets further up her chest as if she could protect the life inside her from the horrible fact.

Alicent nodded. “I did. He told me.”

She frowned. At least Aemond had the decency to tell their mother himself. “What else did he tell you?”

“He was very upset, my dear.” She tried to suppress the kernel of joy that sparked at her mother’s words. “Not at you, of course, but at himself.”

“As he should be.”

“Yes, he should. But he loves you so much,” Alicent grimaced, setting a hand on her daughter’s belly. “And he loves your family so much. He is inconsolable at the thought that you may never forgive him.”

That kernel of joy went up in flames, and she looked at her mother with unfettered rage. “Why should I forgive him? He has betrayed me and has done nothing to regain my trust beyond his weak, selfish apologies.”

“Yes, but –”

“He lied to me again last night!” she cried. “He said it was only once. He looked me in the eye and lied! And he thought I would be stupid enough to believe him.”

Alicent sighed heavily as she looked away from her daughter. This wasn’t like Aemond – none of it was. Even after hearing his tearful explanation the night before, she was no closer to understanding it. Nor to finding a way to fix it.

“That was wrong of him,” she said at last. “All of it was – is. My dear, I do not know what to say or how to make it better. Your father, for all his faults, never strayed. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you are in. But – ”

“But what?” Her daughter glared at her with narrowed eyes, and her hand clenched into a fist by her side. “I cannot begin to imagine forgiving him, nor how I will ever look at him again without feeling this… this rage. Mother, I cannot be a wife to someone who hurt me so deeply, no matter his supposed remorse.”

She looked down at her stomach, then back to her mother. Though her eyes were red and wet, and her lip trembled, she wore a look of absolute determination. “I want to go. I don’t know where, but I don’t want to be here. I can’t bear to be with him.”

“Oh, my darling,” the queen pulled her daughter to her chest once more, not speaking again until she had calmed. “In any other circumstance, I would arrange for you to leave for Oldtown within the day. But it is not so simple.”

The princess stiffened in her mother’s arms.

“There are so few of us left, and we have already spent so much time apart. We cannot let ourselves become estranged.” Alicent bowed her forehead to rest against her daughter’s. “We cannot appear weak, especially not you and Aemond.”

She was frozen, but at that, she gathered enough strength to lift her eyes to look at her mother. “What do you mean, ‘especially’ not us?”

“There are no more heirs, darling, not of our line. But you,” her hand rested gently on her daughter’s cheek. “You are changing that. In mere weeks, your children – yours and Aemond’s – will become the new heirs to the throne.”

“They might not,” she argued weakly, her voice soft and breathless. “They may be daughters.”

Alicent smiled sadly, placing a hand gently at the top of the girl’s stomach. “This one has given you enough trouble that I would wager the Red Keep itself that he’s a boy.”

She put her hand over her mother’s as she tried and failed to smile. The Maester came to the same conclusion many weeks ago. Then, she had been thrilled at the possibility of giving Aemond an heir. Now, she wished desperately for daughters.

“Why do our heirs matter?” She asked. “Aegon will remarry and have his own soon enough.”

The question was met by a heavy, cloying silence.

“Mother?”

Alicent schooled her face into the careful neutrality that had served her so well as queen, though the tears shining in her dark eyes betrayed her heartbreak and grief. “I am afraid Aegon will not marry nor sire any more heirs. The Maesters… they predict he will leave us by the year’s end.”

Her heart stopped, then sank. “But that means Aemond…”

“Will be king soon,” Alicent confirmed. She again brushed her daughter’s hair behind her ears. “And you will be his queen.”

The implication hung over her like a black cloud: a queen could never leave her king.

-

Aemond knelt in the Royal Sept at the feet of the Father. He had not slept the night before, not after he told his mother what had happened and watched her cry harder than he had ever seen. He’d gone all the way back to his rooms – those he shared with his wife – before remembering the promise he had made.

He could not go back to her. To her arms. To his home.

So, he ended up in the Sept. He didn’t remember walking there, leaving the Holdfast and crossing the upper bailey. He just knew he’d been kneeling there long before the sun crested the horizon. He’d prayed and wept and begged the gods to either reveal to him a path to redemption or strike him down and spare him further torment.

The gods ignored him. He could not blame them for it.

His lamenting was halted by the sound of the carved stone doors opening, followed by a strangle rattling sound Aemond could not identify. He turned and saw his brother and king for the first time in months.

A servant stood behind Aegon to push the wheeled chair in which the kind sat with a blanket over his lap to conceal his crooked, atrophied legs, but was dismissed with a wave of a red, scarred hand. Aegon’s injuries after Rook’s Rest had been so horrific even Aemond struggled to look at him. The scars he now bore were hardly better. The king looked twisted, broken, and weak. It was a miracle little Jaehaera could look at her father without collapsing in terror.

As Aegon wheeled himself down the Sept aisle, Aemond steeled himself against the horrible expression on his brother’s face: empathy, disappointment, and rage.

In their youth, even Aegon had been protective of their youngest sister, to the point that he restrained himself from making too many lewd comments in her presence. And after years of Aemond calling him depraved, perverted, and whorish, he would, of course, delight in the irony that his little brother was just as weak as him.

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Aegon drawled. His voice was as damaged as his body, weak and rasping. “But then I saw our mother. I always thought I was the only one that could make her look like that. So sad and weepy and disappointed.”

Aemond reminded himself that Aegon was finally the uncontested king and that throttling the life from him was now more than ever considered treason. “I hardly think you are qualified to pass judgment on me,” he growled.

“No,” Aegon smirked as he brought his chair to a stop at Aemond’s side. “But I think I am well qualified to gloat, don’t you?”

Suppressing his sneer, Aemond turned to face his brother. “Are you? How many unsuitable women have you bedded? How many bastards have you sired?” He scoffed, but his threadbare feeling of righteousness immediately gave under the lead weight of his desperation. “Why does my wife abhor me when I make this one mistake when Helaena never cared when you did the same over and over again?”

“Because Helaena never loved me, Aemond.” For the first time in their lives, Aegon was the calmer and more rational of the brothers. “She cared for me as a sister, but she never loved me as her husband. Not like our haedus loves you.”

“I love her, too.” Aemond’s face fell into utter regret and despair. “So much.”

“Yet you still broke her heart.”

Aemond turned back to the statue of the Father, bowing his head. “I did not mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt her – I would never intend to hurt her.”

“I know,” Aegon angled his chair and slumped slightly. “But you did. Over and over. I saw it. Not just with your adultery, but every time you did not come home when she asked. Whenever you took Vhagar into battle without warning her – and us. And each day you weren’t here when those babes put her through the seven hells with – ”

Aemond’s heart stopped, and his entire world with it.

“‘Babes?’”

Aegon’s eyes grew wide. “I didn’t say that.”

The same blatant liar he’d been for years.

“You did,” Aemond insisted, his rage at himself now turning on his king, his mother, and everyone else who had kept this secret from him – other than his ābrazȳrītsos. He could still never be angry with her. “Why did you say that?”

After a moment of frustrated silence, Aegon finally answered. “Because the Maesters have determined that your wife is carrying twins. Something you would know if you had come home when we asked.”

“I was fighting your war,” Aemond growled, rising to his feet so his brother could no longer look down at him, “to defend your throne. It was not always possible for me to return.”

“You mean it was ‘never’ possible, right?” In that moment, Aegon truly seemed a king – mature and wise for the first time Aemond had ever seen. He almost resembled their father, as he had been on the few occasions they saw him sit the throne. “You never returned. Not for your duties, and not for your wife.”

“I…”

“If you’d come home immediately after you first fucked whoever-she-is, or any other time we summoned you, perhaps things would be better. But you didn’t, and now you must deal with the consequences of your own stupid mistakes. Again.”

Aemond flinched at the harsh words but could not deny their veracity. The death of Lucerys Velaryon had sparked a war that nearly tore House Targaryen and the realm apart. Now this… this could tear his marriage apart.

His family could be broken beyond repair before their child – their children – were ever born.

A scar-mottled hand grabbed his arm, pulling him away from his despair. “I apologize. I did not come here to make you feel worse than I am sure you already do.”

“Why did you come, then?” Aemond stared at the mangled hand that held him still. He could not bear to look in his brother’s eyes.

Aegon sighed. “I am sending you back to Harrenhal.”

“No.” Aemond ripped his arm away.

“Brother, the peace talks…”

“I said no.” He clenched his fists.

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair, the sound echoing through the Sept. “I am your king, and I am giving you an order! You do not get to say ‘no.’”

Aemond froze, his rage roiling, desperate to spill over. But Aegon was his king, and other than his ābrazȳrītsos, his duty to the throne and his family was the thing most dear to him. So, he remained still and silent as he listened without protest.

“Cregan Stark and his army are due to arrive at Harrenhal in mere days,” Aegon explained. “I am in no condition to travel so far, and it would insult Stark and the others who were loyal to Rhaenyra to ask them to travel even further. So, as you are still Prince Regent, you will return to the Riverlands and act as my proxy in the negotiations.”

Absorbed by all that had happened since he’d arrived in King’s Landing, Aemond had entirely forgotten that particular duty. He’d known he had to attend before he left, but how could he go now? What would his wife think if he went back to Harrenhal – where Alys remained – so soon?

“You will take our sister with you.”

“I cannot,” the weak, whispered words escaped him without thought, “I cannot do that to her. You cannot do that to her.”

Somehow, the idea of bringing her with him to Harrenhal was worse than returning there himself. What would happen if she saw Alys? Spoke to her? She was already so hurt, and he did not want her to break entirely. He could not stand it. He would not allow it.

“Aegon, please,” he begged, dignity cast aside in favor of protecting his ābrazȳrītsos. “Do not make her go.”

The king straightened in his chair. “I wish I did not have to. She has already endured so much, and I have no desire to cause her more pain. But I have no other option.”

“Why? What could be more important than keeping her safe?”

Aegon’s face was drawn and filled with regret and grief. “Ensuring the realm sees you as a strong king when I am gone.”

The silence that followed was heavier than the Red Keep itself, and Aemond’s heart grew heavier still when he realized what his brother meant.

“You do not have much time left, do you?”

“Likely only a few months, according to the Maesters. But I’ll be gone by year’s end,” Aegon answered, trying and failing to summon a wry smile. “It’s almost not worth it to un-name you Prince Regent, when the crown will soon be yours once more.”

Silence fell once more.

Aemond wanted to argue. Against going to Harrenhal. Against bringing her with him. Against being king. For if he was king…

“She will be bound to me forever,” he said, not realizing he was saying it aloud, “in a way far stronger than just our shared blood or marriage. She will never be able to leave me.”

Aegon gripped the arm of his chair tighter. “Is that what you want?”

“I…” Yes. No. Aemond fumbled for his words, running a hand down his face as his thoughts raced through his mind like a thousand whirling dragons. “I want her to stay with me, but not at the cost of her happiness.”

Aegon considered the answer, the picture of a king passing judgment. At last, he nodded once. “Even if she decides she hates you, she will not leave. Her sense of duty is nearly as strong as yours, and she would never wish to raise the babes without their father.” He gestured to himself, then Aemond. “She knows well what becomes of children with no true father.”

There came a knock on the Sept door before Aemond could say anything more

Aegon sighed. “It is time for you to leave, I’m afraid. The wheelhouse is waiting.”

“What about – ”

Aegon waved a hand. “Mother went to your rooms this morning to explain the situation to her and help her prepare for the journey.”

“Can we not simply fly?” Aemond did not want for her to have to be stuck with him for the entire journey. The gods forbid that they should be made to share a tent or room at a roadside inn. Though doing so would delight him. He’d missed her so much that he would gladly take any moment he could with her, even when she was so angry with him.

Because she would be angry with him, and spending time with him would do nothing but make her miserable. Her happiness was more important than his. Always.

His brother scoffed as he began wheeling down the aisle toward the door. “Not in her condition.”

Of course. Aemond felt a fool for not realizing it himself. He’d flown Vhagar with Alys, but… she was not as far along as his wife, nor as delicate. A carriage it must be.

He should never have flown with Alys. Not for her sake or that of her child, but because flying atop Vhagar was something he did with his ābrazȳrītsos. It was something sacred they shared, and he had willfully desecrated it.

Gods, he had to get Alys out of his head. He could never become the husband his wife deserved when the witch still haunted his every thought.

Aegon stopped at the threshold of the Sept, again reaching out to grab Aemond’s arm. His eyes glinted with violent promise as he locked eyes with his brother. “If you do anything to hurt her again, intentional or not, I will exile you to Essos, and you will never see her again. I will declare you dead and marry her myself to ensure her children inherit the throne.”

“She deserves a better husband than you,” Aemond spat. It would break him never to see her or their children. But he knew he would deserve it.

The king smiled wickedly, still only a shadow of his former self. “She deserves better than the both of us, brother.”

Aemond bit back his retort and inclined his head to his king as he had at the coronation. “I swear on my life, I will never hurt her again.”

-

Aemond was waiting for her in the courtyard when she finally left the castle, well bundled in a thick, fur-lined cloak. The weather had turned, a final storm of the departing winter. Now, the sky reflected her mood – gray and somber.

At least the explosiveness of her anger had calmed, and she was relatively sure she wouldn’t strangle Aemond along the journey. But to go to Harrenhal with him, to be in the very place where he had betrayed her, to face the woman who carried her husband’s bastard …

She could be brave. She had to be brave. This was her duty, and her duty was sacred.

Aemond had taught her that.

She did not acknowledge him as she kissed her mother and brother farewell, nor as she walked to the steps set at the wheelhouse door.

But then he held out his hand to help her in.

Reluctantly, she took it. The brief touch was marginally more tolerable than the possibility of her stumbling and him having to catch her by the arm or, gods forbid, her waist. That would be far too much of a touch, and she was not sure she was ready for it – if she would ever be ready for it.

He stepped in just behind her, the two of them standing there for a moment, wondering where to sit. In the past, they’d always sat next to each other at the rear of the wheelhouse, with her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. But now, the thought of doing so again made her nauseous. So, she turned to the seat in the front.

“Wait,” Aemond grabbed her shoulder, then immediately released it when he saw her wince. He cleared his throat, then motioned to the opposite seat with his hand. “Please, sit here. I don’t want you getting sick riding backward.”

She looked from the seat to his wary smile. Surely he didn’t expect her to still sit with him, did he?

“I’ll sit on the other side,” he added after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a nod of her head. But when she began walking to the rear seat, Aemond again stopped her.

“Before you sit, let me…” he trailed off, stepping to the front seat and gathering most of the pillows and cushions that lay atop it into his arms. Then, he deposited them on the other side. He spent several minutes arranging them until they were finally to his liking. “There.”

He reached out his hand again to help her sit. This time, she did not take it. She was more than capable of sitting down on her own, and she was well aware that Aemond knew that, too. He was merely trying to touch her again, and that, she would not allow.

Once she sat, Aemond began fussing again. “Please stop,” she sighed when he started crossing the wheelhouse to fetch even more pillows. “You don’t need to do this.”

“I do need to do this,” he insisted. She could have sworn his eye shone before he turned back to the pillows and blankets. “I want you to be comfortable. You deserve it.”

“A few pillows will not make me forgive you.” For a moment, as Aemond’s shoulders tightened, she almost regretted the words. She had spoken in haste and with cruelty. It was not something she was accustomed to. Somehow, his misdeeds were turning her into a mean and petty woman.

She was just about to apologize when Aemond spoke again, his voice more timid than it had been. “I know that, but I want to do it anyway. I want to show you how much I love you. Please.”

He looked at her pleadingly, desperately. It had been many years since he looked at her like that. When she was a girl, and she fell gravely ill, he stayed by her bedside against the instructions of the Maesters, holding her hand and begging her not to die. She had to look away from him to avoid falling into that memory.

“I am perfectly comfortable,” she said. “So you needn’t do anything more.”

With a sigh, Aemond threw the pillows in his arms carelessly on his seat, except for one – a small round cushion with the Targaryen three-headed dragon embroidered upon it. “Just this one more, please.”

She looked at it suspiciously, some instinct in the back of her mind telling her not to allow it. But his voice was so weak, so desperate. And if it could help her be more comfortable on the long journey, what harm would it do? She nodded. “Very well.”

Aemond beamed and crossed the wheelhouse. With the pillow in hand, he knelt in front of her and brought a hand to hover over her belly. Before he made contact, he looked up to her, a hopeful smile still on his lips.

But that smile was no longer reassuring to her. Instead, it brought on a wave of mistrust and fear. “What are you doing?”

Finally, he laid his hand on her. “I…” His cheeks flushed, and he suddenly could not meet her eye. “This is to cradle your belly while we ride so you are not rattled around so much.”

Her hand flew out and latched onto his wrist, her hold so hard the skin around her hand quickly grew red. She did not want to see him, so she narrowed her eyes until her coming tears blurred her vision. It took several tries for her to speak through her rapid breathing. “Did Alys teach you that, too?”

Aemond looked as if she had just driven a dagger through his heart. “She did, but –”

“I told you never to do that!” She ripped the pillow from his hands and threw it across the wheelhouse with all her strength.

He stayed kneeling, one hand braced on her seat. He had not flinched, only closed his eyes. “Wifey, if it makes you comfortable, if it helps you, then what does it matter how I learned it?”

“Because…” She furiously wiped her tears away, steadfastly looking away from him. “I don’t want you to think about her when you’re touching me.”

“I promise I am not thinking of her,” he insisted. “I could never think of her when I have with me.”

“No, only when I’m hundreds of miles away.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath, his hand never leaving her belly. “How long have you known?” Aemond rasped out. “That we are to have two babes?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at the words. How had he known? Who had told him? She did not look at him, did not want him to see the blush of shame that came over her. If either of them should be ashamed, it was him. What he did was far worse than keeping a secret, even one as important as this.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” she whispered. “But you did not come back when you were meant to – you were supposed to return and give Aegon a report on the war. You didn’t.”

Aemond bowed his head, hiding his cheeks – likely just as flushed as hers. He sniffed, as he often did when upset, and shook his head. “If I had known – ”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she snapped back. “Your… she was already pregnant by then, wasn’t she?”

For a moment, Aemond looked up at her in pleading before dropping his head again. “Yes,” his voice was thin and utterly defeated, “she was.” He reached to adjust the pillow by her side but decided against it. Then, he returned to the seat across from her, looking at her once before bowing his head and pounding on the roof twice.

Reins snapped, and the wheelhouse lurched forward.

-

The first hours in the wheelhouse passed in silence. Aemond hardly moved, staring at his clasped hands. She thought she felt his eyes on her several times, but whenever she looked at him, he did not look back.

She watched the world pass her by through the windows. She’d never gone north of King’s Landing before, other than a few short flights on Vhagar with Aemond. Then, she was too high to see the little differences, mile by mile. The trees changed and became sparser, as did the shrubs and flowers. The air felt different, as did the ground beneath the wheelhouse, which became softer and less turbulent the farther they went. Even the smell of the air changed. The slight brine she was so used to faded, turning into something green and damp. It was not an unpleasant change.

What was unpleasant was trying to fall asleep within the mountain of pillows and cushions Aemond had made for her. Once, she would have loved the plushness and softness of it. But with the babes in her belly, she had come to prefer more firmness.

She would have moved the pillows herself had she been able to. But between the sheer mass of cushions and her current size, maneuvering enough to do so was impossible. Grand Maester Orwyle had said even two months away from the birth, she was already larger than most mothers just before it. Of course, most mothers only had one babe to carry, not two. So, she was left with only wiggling around as much as she could to try and find a better position.

She didn’t.

With a huff, she looked at Aemond, hoping to silently glare at him and curse him for the stuffed throne he’d made for her. But this time, when she looked at him, he was looking back.

He wore an expression of concern, like he’d been watching her struggle for some time. His eye was wide, and his lips pinched together. She knew that look, and found herself now hating it. It meant he wanted to help, to understand what was wrong.

“I cannot get comfortable,” she explained, not that he deserved an explanation.

A spark of hope entered Aemond’s eye. “Do you…” he licked his lips. “I can hold you, if you’d like.”

“No!” She felt a slight pang of guilt at the hurt painted on his face at her rejection. He did not deserve her guilt, she reminded herself. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Aemond grimaced as if he could sense the lie. He probably could, for how well he knew her. “Are you sure? I can… I can just hold you. It won’t mean anything, I promise.”

Yes, yes, yes, her body seemed to scream. She had always found comfort in his arms, always slept best with him pressed against her. And him holding her would mean he would have to discard many of the ridiculous pillows. If she accepted, she could likely be asleep in moments.

But her heart… her heart would break to be held by him. She wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about if he had held Alys in this same way. If the whore had slept with her head resting on Aemond’s shoulders. If she had kissed his neck as she fell asleep, just as she had loved to do.

She would never be able to stop thinking about Alys. Every time Aemond looked at her, touched her, spoke to her. Alys would be a ghost that would haunt her forever.

A memory of the first time Aemond had taken her to the Dragonpit came to her.

He’d told her she couldn’t come with him, but relented the moment she started crying and dragged her into the carriage with him, Aegon, and Rhaenyra’s eldest sons. Jacaerys was the only one who argued against her accompanying them. He stopped complaining after Aemond shot him a threatening glare and declared that she was braver and more capable than he would ever be. But when they arrived at the Dragonpit, and Sunfyre was led up from the dens, she’d cowered behind Aemond. The sweet little creature - perhaps the size of one of the king’s hounds - she had once watched flit around Aegon wherever he went had somehow quickly turned into a beast larger than anything she’d ever seen, baring sharp teeth the size of her dinner knives. Aegon kneeled in front of her and nudged her cheek with his thumb. “Don’t worry, haedus. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” She still screamed when Aegon stepped within reach of those fangs. And again, when Aemond pulled her from behind his back so she could not hide from the dragon. “Do not be afraid, haedus. Sunfyre is only a dragon, as are you. The blood of the dragon runs true in your veins,” he said as she buried her face in her chest. Something about the words seemed to make Jace angry, but she didn’t know why. “I can’t help it, lēkia,” she whined. “He’s scaring me.” Aemond huffed slightly, petting her head tenderly. “You are afraid because you know very little about dragons. What we do not know can be terrifying.” He turned her to face Sunfyre, who was now perfectly docile while being saddled by Aegon. She squirmed to escape his grasp. “If you watch and listen to the Dragonkeepers, you will learn. The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.”

“Why did you do it?” she asked suddenly.

“My love?” Aemond looked at her as if she’d sprouted horns. But when she held his stare, he whispered gently, “You don’t want to know. Not really.”

“I do,” she declared.Though his answer may shatter her heart completely, she had to know. His childhood voice echoed in her head. ‘The more you learn, the less afraid you will be.’

She swore she could see him remember the same memory she had. His eye darted around the wheelhouse anxiously. “It is not a good reason.”

“Unless she held you at sword point each time, there is not a reason I would call ‘good.’” She hoped it was something like that, that he hadn’t been given the choice to refuse her. It would make everything better, almost fine. But if it had been something like that, he would have already told her.

Aemond was silent for a long while. Long enough for the sun to reach its peak and begin its descent.

“I’d seen only one battle before I arrived at Harrenhal – Rook’s Rest,” he began. “In that battle, one dragon and rider were killed, and Aegon and Sunfyre were permanently wounded.”

“I know,” she whispered. She’d been there when Aemond had brought Aegon, broken, bloody, and burnt, back to the castle. She’d seen what happened to him. Aemond held her hair back as she was sick in the corridor outside the Grand Maester’s rooms.

Aemond nodded. “I was so afraid, ābrazȳrītsos, of what I would see when I truly went to war. And it was just as terrible as I’d feared. Even worse than what happened to Aegon, sometimes.” He waited to continue until she had unscrunched her eyes as she fought away another wave of nausea. “Every time I was scared, raqiarzītsos... And alone. She offered an escape. A chance to not think about the war, for at least a little while.”

“And to not think about me.”

He blanched, moving to stand, but thought better of it and sat back in his seat. “My love, I never wanted to stop thinking about you. I promise. I thought about you every moment of every day. You are what gave me the strength to ride to battle again and again – knowing that once it was all over, I’d be able to return to you.”

She glared at him. “So, you thought about me while you were fucking her?”

“Gods, no!” This time, he did rise, crossing the wheelhouse to fall at her feet. “I… I didn’t think about anything when I was with her. Not about you, or the war, or even her. It was the only way I could empty my mind of all the things that tormented me.”

“… I tormented you?” The idea that she could have done anything to make him want to forget her brought tears to her eyes.

“No. Never.” He tried to reach for her to cup her cheek, but she shrank away from him. “Don’t ever think that you could. What tormented me was that I was so far from you – that I could not be there for you. And the babes.”

He could have been, she knew. He should have been. “You had many opportunities to return. Why didn’t you?” Her voice caught in the back of her throat as a sob tried to escape. “Were you too ashamed of what you’d done?”

“I was and am ashamed,” he declared, and she believed him, “but that is not why I remained at Harrenhal. I knew that if I saw you again, I would never return to the battlefield. It was hard enough to leave you the first time. I could not endure it again.”

There was silence.

She leaned back towards him and allowed him to finally lay his hand across her cheek – an unconscious attempt to soften the blow of her next question. “Is it true that you spared her only because you lusted for her? That you took her to your bed in your first week at that awful place?”

Aemond sobbed, one horrible, wretched sob. His hand dropped, and he lowered his head into her lap, clutching at her dress like a child. The urge to comfort him tingled in her veins, to pet his hair and murmur soft words to him, to gently remove his eyepatch and assure him that all was well.

She did not move an inch.

At last, Aemond lifted his head. The bottom of his eyepatch was just askew enough to allow the tears from his ruined eye to escape. “I spared her because she claimed to be a witch – a seer. The claim was backed by several residents of the keep who had no reason to lie. She offered to lend me her aid in the war, to share her visions with me so I could be prepared when I led my men to battle. I agreed. I wanted to avoid the kind of slaughter I saw at Rook’s Rest. To prevent anyone from going through what happened to our brother. Then…

“I did lie with her in the first week,” he turned away as though he couldn’t say the words while facing her. “On the sixth day. We were to advance on Darry the next morning, to… it doesn’t matter why, just that it was the first time I would lead men to victory of their deaths. I asked Alys to share her vision of what would occur, and she did. She saw how fearful I was and told me that to win the battle, I must go into it without fear. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t.”

He swallowed thickly, still avoiding her gaze, and dropped his hand. “Then she offered her… further aid. I will not wound you by detailing what we did. But I will assure you that I did resist.” He licked his lips. “At least at first.”

A small comfort, she supposed.

“When I was with her, all my worries faded to nothing. I thought it was perhaps a spell she put on me, but it was not. My body just needed to find that satisfaction and release. I was hoping it was a spell. For that would mean I did not truly betray you.”

He faced her again. She did not know whether it comforted or saddened her to look into his wet, despairing eye. “But I did. And I continued to do so every time my fear threatened to overwhelm me. Which was, regrettably, often.

“I was weak,” he said with a mirthless laugh, “I was so weak. I should have been braver – better. I should have been the husband you deserve. I will spend every day of my life regretting it and trying to right what I have done wrong. I swear it.” He nodded as if to affirm the oath, yet it brought her no assurance. “I am so sorry, my love.”

He said nothing else.

She still had so many questions, wanted to know so much more. Her fears had barely been quelled. But it was something. And at the very least, the emotions Aemond’s story subjected her to had exhausted her. Enough that she knew she could close her eyes and be asleep within a heartbeat.

“Thank you. For telling me,” she whispered as she moved back in her seat, away from him. “I would like to rest now.”

Aemond bowed his head and retreated to his seat without asking again if he could hold her.

Her traitorous heart almost wished he had.

-

It was raining when she woke. The weather had apparently followed them north. She leaned closer to the window, wanting the wet air to cool her, but stopped when she noticed the wheelhouse wasn’t moving.

“Ser Marston and one of the porters are arranging rooms,” Aemond said softly. She did not reply, nor look at him. A glance out the window informed her that they were in some village she didn’t know, outside a relatively large building whose worn sign, cut in the shape of a stone wall, read simply ‘Inn.’

That question answered, she still didn’t look at Aemond. She knew he’d likely been watching her since they’d arrived… wherever they were. Perhaps longer. Judging by the dusk settling over the horizon, she’d been sleeping quite a while. And yet she hadn’t woken. She wondered if she should start sleeping during the day instead of at night.

“Mother said…” Aemond halted, likely waiting for her to look at him. She didn’t. “We will be sharing a room.”

She whipped her head around to face him, ignoring the slight dizziness that came with the motion. “No.”

Aemond sighed. “Raqiarzītsos, if the innkeeper notices we are apart, he may talk about it. Rumors will start.”

“Can’t we just pay him to remain silent? That’s what Mother did to prevent rumors from spreading about Aegon.”

“And yet rumors spread nevertheless,” his voice was soft and firm, like a parent explaining something to their child. The thought sickened her.

She wanted to say that those rumors spread because their mother could not pay off every woman Aegon had his way with – there had been too many to even know who they all were. But it had been their mother herself who told her that this would happen, that she would have to somehow stomach being in the same room as Aemond at night. That the consequences of not doing so would be worse than those that would come from him being there.

“You will not sleep in the bed,” she ordered, finally facing her husband, “you will sleep on whatever chair or couch is in the room or the floor if there is none.”

Aemond sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Very well.”

Curious, she’d expected more of a fight. For him to insist that a servant could see the half-empty bed and raise questions. For him to try and ply her into letting him into the bed with promises of holding her and keeping her warm. For him to try something. But he didn’t.

“Good.”

-

It was not a very nice room.

The paint was chipping off the walls, and the floorboards creaked. The bed linens were faded, the fur blankets patchy. The small table on one side leaned to one side, and an unshaped piece of wood held the couch by the fire level.

At least there was a couch, Aemond supposed. And as it was near the fire, he would not have to sleep in the cold to avoid depriving his wife of blankets.

She crossed the room to the bed, sitting on its edge and looking out the window again. After he’d agreed that he would not try and convince her to let him join her in the bed, she’d spent the rest of their time waiting in the carriage looking out one window, then crossing to the other side of the wheelhouse just before they were called to their room.

Even now, he could see her eyes flitting from one building to another, following the villagers as they milled about and fixating on the livestock that wandered the streets – cows, donkeys, sheep, even a small group of piglets.

He thought it was a distraction at first. But when she continued to watch the inconsequential town for far longer than he ever would, even in a new town, he realized it was something more. When she quirked her head slightly to the right and the ghost of a smile flitted over her lips, he knew what it was.

This was the first village she’d ever been in.

She was born in King’s Landing, and other than their trip to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral… she’d never left the city.

Something in Aemond’s heart cracked. He should have done something, taken her on adventures. He should have brought her on Vhagar and flown her wherever her heart desired.

But he hadn’t. He’d left her in King’s Landing, in the Red Keep. In a cage.

But now… her first trip away from the capital was one she didn’t want to be on. It wasn’t a happy occasion. And their destination was likely the place of her worst nightmares.

He should never have let Aegon order him to bring her to Harrenhal.

Aemond opened his mouth to apologize to her again but said nothing. She had already been forced to be stuck in a wheelhouse with him for most of the day. The kindest thing he could do would be to let her alone for as long as he could.

So, he went towards the door, turning back over his shoulder to look at her for a moment. She was still watching the village. It made him smile a bit. “I’m going to get supper. I’ll be back in a short while.”

She did not say anything back. She only lifted a hand to rest on the window.

-

She’d hardly noticed that Aemond had left. When he told her where he was going, she had just seen a small group of children playing in the muddy road. One of the little girls had spotted her watching from the window and shouted something to her friends. Soon, all the children were staring at her. She lifted a hand to the window to wave at them.

Then, she heard the door closing, and when she turned to look, Aemond was gone.

When she looked back to the children, they had already run off. Her hand drifted to her abdomen. “Nyke urnēbagon jemī tymāt umban daor.” I cannot wait to watch you play.

Before Aemond left for Harrenhal, he had taken her back to the nursery where they’d been raised. The furniture had been covered, as neither Jaehaera nor Rhaenyra’s son Aegon were inclined toward play. Not after what they went through. So, both had moved to their own rooms when they returned to the keep.

But the nursery would not be empty for long.

Aemond had pulled away the sheet covering the toy chest and knelt before it, examining each toy as though it were a priceless jewel. He told stories about them, recalling how they had played with them, and made guesses about which ones their child would prefer and what their choices would foretell about them.

He rediscovered the two wooden dragons they had once painted and named for themselves – Kēlītsos and Balerion. There were too many tales of those little dragons to retell them all, so he told only the one where they imagined the dragons had come alive and had flown them to the ruins of Old Valyria. Aemond would slay whatever beasts had wounded Balerion and killed their great-aunt, Aerea. Then, they would reclaim their ancestral homeland.

He’d kissed her belly then, calling the babe inside the “heir of Old Valyria.”

Now, they were the heir – heirs – to something else entirely.

To a broken family.

To a throne soaked in the blood of their kin.

To the sins of their father.

For a moment, she wished they could simply be like those children, playing without a care.

But they never would be.

They would still be children. They would still play and laugh. They would be mischievous and sneak sweets from the kitchens or stay awake long past the time they were sent to bed. They would still cry for their parents when they scraped a knee or had a nightmare.

But they would also be heirs. They would be taught by the finest scholars in the world how to bear the weight of their responsibilities. They would be trained by mighty warriors on how to defend themselves from the enemies they would have since birth. They would always know that their life was never wholly theirs.

Now, they would also always know that their father had betrayed their mother. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to prevent it, somehow, they would learn of Aemond’s mistress – the mother of their bastard half-sibling.

Part of her hated that child, the small thing that was not even fully formed and yet was the manifestation of all her pain.

Part of her, perhaps a larger part, pitied it.

After all, it was a bastard. The world had never been kind to bastards. After the role bastards had played in the war, she could not imagine it would grow any kinder.

What would the life of the bastard be like? Would it play the same games as her children? Would it have the same favorite toys, or foods, or colors?

While its trueborn siblings were learning to rule the realm and ride dragons, what would it do? Perhaps it would be a servant, like its mother, or become a laborer of some kind.

Would it know who its father was? Would it know the blood of the dragon ran through its veins? Would it ache for a bond with a dragon, as Aemond had? Would it spend its life feeling incomplete, yet never know why?

As she caught sight of the tears shining on her cheeks in her reflection off the window, she decided she did not hate the child. It was not at fault for the sins of its mother, or its father.

She said a brief prayer for it – for its health and happiness. Then one for her own children.

When Aemond came back through the door, carrying a tray laden with steaming food, she wiped her tears away and looked only once more out the window.

The children had gone home.

“Are you hungry, ābrazȳrītsos?” Aemond asked.

No, she wasn’t. But she knew she must eat regardless, for the sake of the babes. So, she crossed the room and sat at the small table.

She did not speak as Aemond served her the meal – fresh, steaming bread, warm stew, and a pot of tea. He did not try and get her to speak. He simply ate his food, watching her carefully.

He faded into the background as her thoughts continued to wander to that poor little child growing in Alys’ womb.

Would it have silver hair? Purple eyes? Or would it inherit its mother’s coloring, whatever it was?

She did not know what Alys looked like. She knew so little about the woman who had shared in Aemond’s sin.

Was she beautiful? Was she intelligent? Was she kind?

It was hard to imagine that she would be kind. That any woman who would lie with a married man would be kind. After all, she was called a witch. Was there such a thing as a kind witch?

Was there even such a thing as a witch?

Aemond said that he spared Alys because she could foretell the future. That the reason he’d first brought her into his bed was because she told him he needed to be calm for the battle ahead if he wished to prevail.

Prevail he did.

Were the visions real, then? Had Aemond only returned from that first battle, the second, the last, because of what Alys had told him?

If Alys were to thank for Aemond surviving the war, should she not be grateful for it? But how could she be grateful for something that had so thoroughly broken her heart?

How was she supposed to feel? How was she supposed to know what to feel? What to do?

“I want to meet her,” she said suddenly. Even her whisper sounded like an echoing shout after so long a silence.

Aemond stared at her. Fear and regret and anger in his gaze. His mouth hung open, and his skin had gone deathly pale.

“Alys,” she clarified. “I want to meet her.”

“My love, please. You don’t.” His voice quavered like a rose in a thunderstorm. “I don’t want you to, it won’t – ”

“I have questions for her. I will ask them.” Tears fell down Aemond’s cheeks, but he did not argue. It almost made her smile. “You may be there if you wish. But I will meet her.”

Aemond nodded. “If that is what you truly want.”

She felt no fear or hesitation. “It is.”

-

After she finished her meal, her exhaustion finally settled upon her. It had only been a day since Aemond returned to the Red Keep. Only a day since both the war and her world ended.

She just wanted to sleep. In that moment, it was all she wanted.

She had Aemond turn away as she undressed and donned her nightgown. He obeyed, staring into the fire and never once looking back until she was beneath the rough-spun blankets on the bed and gave him permission.

He only removed his leather doublet and his boots before settling onto the couch by the fire, its high back blocking them from each other’s view.

The fire crackled.

“Good night, ābrazȳrītsos,” Aemond said. “Sleep well. I love you.”

She did not reply.

She so badly wanted to sleep. But it seemed both her body and the babes in her belly wanted otherwise. No matter how she lay, she could not find comfort. No matter what she thought of, her mind would not calm.

At least she took comfort in that her restlessness was likely preventing Aemond from finding sleep as well.

When she heard his voice again, she stiffened, preparing herself to argue with him again. But Aemond did not speak.

He sang.

“Bantis ropatas Night has fallen

Yn zūgagon daor But do not fear

Sȳndror ilos daor There is no darkness

Kesrio syt drakarys vamiot ilzai. For dragonfire is near.”

It was a lullaby. One he had discovered in an Old Valyrian children’s book he found in the back of the Red Keep’s library. He had sung it to her when she was still in her crib so he could practice their ancestral language.

He stopped singing for some time when his voice settled, adjusting to the new, lower pitch. But when he began again, it was even more beautiful than before. Quiet and soft, but still beautiful.

“Yn ozelēnagon daor And shiver not

Vasīr vēzos hembistas Though the sun has gone

Drakarys kesīr ilzai Dragonfire is here

Aōhi dijaves rāelagon. To keep you warm.”

When was the last time he sang to her? Obviously not in the past six months, but when?

“Aōhi bartos mazilībās Lay down your head

Se aōhī laehossa lēdes And close your eyes

Drakarys avy mīsilza Dragonfire will protect you

Yn sepār kesan. And so too will I.”

Ah, her eyes welled with tears when she finally remembered. It had been the first night after they learned they were to have a babe, and Aemond had bedded her more passionately than he had since their wedding night and more gently than he had ever been.

He sang when they were spent, and she curled into him to sleep. Aemond brushed his fingers in light patterns over her belly and sang. But was that for her or the babe?

The last time he had sung for her and only her… she could not recall. It had been some ordinary day when she did not know she should hold onto that memory and keep it close. She did not know it was a memory she would need when Aemond went to war.

“Dōnī ēdrurī emilās, ñuha raqno Dream sweetly, my love

Bantio rȳ ēdrūs Sleep all through the night

Nyke aōma unna I will be with you

Vapār ōños arlī amāzīlza. Until again there is light.”

She wanted to be angry at him, accuse him of only singing now so he could worm his way back into her heart. But she knew that accusation would be false. After the way he fussed over her today, she knew he was truly worried for her health – and the health of the babes.

Besides, his voice and the familiarity of the song were now truly lulling her to sleep.

She was grateful for it.

“Skorī ñāqes kesīr ilos When morning is here

Se īlvon geron vamiot ilza And our journey is nigh

Īlon henkirī īlvī zaldrīzī kipili We will both mount our dragons

Sepār, sōvīlā.” Then, we will fly.”

Her last thought before her eyes slid closed was that she hoped he had not sung the lullaby – their lullaby – to Alys or her child.

-

Aemond woke to the sound of something crashing. He was immediately awake, throwing off his blanket and bolting to his feet. But he saw no one.

What he did see was an empty bed.

In an instant, his panic had risen to a peak it had reached only once before – the day he’d found out that his half-sister and her husband had taken King’s Landing, and in the aftermath, Aegon was missing and his ābrazȳrītsos was now in the hands of his enemies.

A horrible retching soon alerted him to his wife’s presence on the floor of the room, halfway between the bed and the washbasin against the far wall. But it did not quell his panic.

She was panting between harsh bouts of sickness, her arms trembling as they struggled to hold her up. Aemond moved immediately, kneeling beside her and sweeping her hair away from her face. His words of comfort and concern died instantly when he felt her lean against him.

She was so thin.

Her nightgown was soaked through with sweat, allowing him a clear and horrible view of every knob on her spine and curve of her ribs. The further she pressed into him, the more he could feel the sharp planes of her shoulder blades and the sickening lightness of her form. She was like some of the near-corpses he’d seen in the war – hardly more than skin stretched taut over mere bones.

He had not seen it before. She’d been bundled in robes and gowns and furs. And when she changed into her nightgown earlier this evening, she had not allowed him to look at her until she was buried beneath the blankets.

She knew.

She knew how frail she was. He knew and had not wanted him to know…

Had not wanted him to worry. Not while he was at war.

“Ābrazȳrītsos…”

She sobbed once before she was sick again. He said nothing else until he was relatively certain whatever illness had possessed her passed, and tried not to be too grateful that she didn’t push him away.

“Little darling, please,” he pulled her closer so he could rest against his chest. She did not resist. “What happened?”

She shook her head, reaching to wipe her mouth with the sleeve of her nightgown. Aemond stopped her, set her hand back on her lap, and used his own sleeve instead. She sighed as if the gesture somehow upset her, then slumped slightly. “Nothing happened. Nothing new, at least. This happens nearly every night.”

Every night. No wonder she was so thin.

“Still?” Aemond finally managed to ask in a rasping voice. She had been so sick in those early days – it was what had prompted them to take her to the Maesters, where they discovered she was with child. But it had gotten better in the days before he left for Harrenhal. She had said it was getting better.

She nodded, her eyes shut tight as she turned away from him. Was it from exhaustion or shame? “It…” she swallowed, and Aemond realized how dry her throat must be. He would fetch her something to drink as soon as she could stand. “It never stopped.”

“Oh ābrazȳrītsos…” his voice broke as the realization of how badly she had been suffering sank in. And all the while, he’d been sharing his bed with another woman.

If the Father truly cared for justice, he would have struck Aemond dead the moment he touched that witch.

Aemond held her close, panting with the effort it took to hold back his tears of shame. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She was silent for a long while. Then, “I’m tired, Aemond.”

“I know.”

A long pause. It took him longer than it should have to realize she was looking at him and longer still to recognize the plea in her eyes. She wanted his help. Or perhaps more accurately, needed his help.

So help her he did, eagerly. He sat her at one of the chairs by the table while he removed her soiled nightgown and dressed her in another. He brought the washbasin to her so he could help her wash her face, then brought her a pitcher of fresh water so she could rinse her mouth. He braided her hair once more and carried her back to bed,

Once he’d pulled the blankets back over her, he reached out to her. When she didn’t flinch away, he softly stroked her cheek. “Is there anything else I can get you, my love?”

She opened her eyes just slightly. “I’m cold.”

He turned on his heel to fetch his blanket from the couch. There was still warmth radiating from the hearth. He could move to the rug.

But when he’d settled that blanket on her as well, she opened her eyes wider and gazed up at him. “Aemond…”

If there was ever proof that the gods could be merciful, that was it.

Still, he had to be certain he wasn’t mistaken. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Thank all the gods in the world, she nodded.

His veins buzzing with ecstatic joy, he walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her. As he wrapped his arms around her, it almost didn’t matter that he could feel her frailness, that he knew she had only asked this because she truly was cold, or that his touch was tainted by his sins.

Aemond was sharing a bed with his wife. He was holding her. Her, and their children.

When her breathing finally settled, and she drifted off to sleep, Aemond closed his eyes, tucked his face into her hair, and prayed he dreamt of a world where he had slain Alys the moment he first saw her.

[inumakis-boo]

I loved your inumaki headcannons and def want more. Do you also have any of megumi by chance?

(If not that is okay. I will take inumaki crumbs)

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO ˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜

headcanons ⸝⸝ hey everyone! ive been on a writing streak as of recent, so i love to give more headcanons and ideas about dating megumi! ofc, this is from a fem perspective.

safe for work headcanons

+ megumi literally did not think much of you when you first met. it was only seeing how you interact with others that he started to get you more.

+ whenever he sees you typing in the group chat, he always makes sure he answers (of course, only to make sure youre heard, much to itadori and kagisakis interest)

+ probably won't call you, but texting is decently fun with him. for someone decently calm and quiet, hes curious about how you work, ect.

+ he enjoys sharing his earbuds with you, and you lend him a few songs to listen too (you seem to get his style, although he likes a much of different things, and he saves them to his playlists)

+ doesnt mind staying back to help you train or study, and honestly you two end up talking about the jujustu world and everyone in general

+ he doesn't seem like he cares about gossip, but the moment you start talking about it he is going to pay attention

+ you two always swap what you don't like on food

+ brushing his hair with your fingers will make him fall asleep.

+ you two always somehow crowd around each other when others are training or at parties or events

+ he does not suck at communicating, he just does it in his own way. maybe in notes or through text, he is very sensitive in reality

+ would absolutely ignore his friends if you two had a date or even just taking a walk. if someone has his attention, he will give all of it

+ he loves to print out the pictures he takes of you on his recyclable camera and keep them in a little drawer in his desk

+ seems to talk about you less the more you start seeing each other/not into pda whatsoever. he doesn't want other people (especially HIS people) in your business. at the most though, he will always offer acts of service in return (buying you snacks, matching bracelets or necklaces, holding your backpack.)

+ he probably isn't a huge fan of pet names, he will never get over how embarrassing they make him feel, at the very best, meg is fine (the other half is reserved for gojo.. for whatever reason.)

+ he loves to have cuddle dates- don't have time worry about going places, just his warm bed, and both of you sleeping while he holds you.

+ your laughter may be a weak spot for him, and produces a smile every single time (even infront of other people, which they always notice.)

below this, are not safe for work headcanons. // mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

~ megumi is.. a stupid guy when it comes to fucking you.

~ hates public attention? will litter your body with purple hickeys.

~ doesn't like pda? will push you against a wall in a secluded place and eat you out from the back as your forehead meets the cement wall

~ he doesn't think too much about it, unless he thinks he is hurting you, then his penis brain turns off

~ its slightly embarrassing for him at first, but he likes to fondle you as he kisses your neck from behind. when he first heard your whimpering, that embarrassment flew out the window

~ while practically growling in your ear about how pretty you are and how wet you are down there

~ long fingers are always put to good use.. always.

~ his favorite thing to do is eating you out. he loves watching you squirm and plead as he makes circles around your clit with his thumb.

~ and his favorite position is hitting it from the back while holding you, so he can whisper and pant into your ear while you take all of him, and also to hear you huff into the pillow.

~ his weakest spot is hearing you moan and whine through his hand that wraps around your mouth every time you get loud.

~ pulling on his hair makes him whine.. or makes him go harder.

~ dirty talk, once his brain shuts off

~ "fuck, i want to see you cum. youre not leaving here until i see it."

~ always does the dirty in his room, because he doesn't want to make a mess in yours- he cares about whats in his room, but not enough to avoid breaking it on accident when he fucks you against it.

~ always after is the biggest gulit-session

~ "was i too mean? did i hurt you? god why am i so stupid?" yeah stupid in love with you.

thank you for your asks and whatnot! i will definitely write more inumaki headcanons when i get the chance next!

please, send more, i absolutely love talking to yall!

bye pookies!

[smoshyourheadin]

Maybe u could do a Spencer besties to lovers? Like they've known each other a long time yk

Thankssss no pressure if ur busy ofc <3

It’s Always Been You

cw: reader has a boyf who she breaks up w bc he’s an alchaholic!! don’t read if you aren’t comfortable, i’ll catch you another time ml 💛

a/n: EEK IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON 🫶🫶💛💛 also im taking this as smosh spence not cm spence so feel free to re-request if you’d like <33 ps, ive written that he listens to pink floyd here so thats who syd barrett is if you don’t know :))

requests r open!!

///

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

florida, 2002

you and spencer were scurrying around in the freshly mown grass of his backyard, playing tag.

“you didn’t get me, you cheated!” you exclaim, ducking as he reaches out to get you again, tumbling to the floor.

“did too!” spencer retorts, his grazed knees dropping to the floor so he can lean over you. he meets your eyes, pulls a tongue, and hoists himself back up to run to his tyre swing.

all 11 years you’d known, you’d known them with spencer. your moms had been great friends since way before you were born, being in the same book club. or was it an art night? you didn’t exactly know, but you did know that because your moms were best friends, so were you and spencer.

as you sprung back up to your feet, your moms watched your antics through the kitchen window.

“whoever can swing the other the highest gets to have the last red popsicle!” he yelled as you ran over

“oh you’re so on!”

your hands gripped the tyre and you pushed like your life depended on it.

“y’know,” your mom said “one day, they’re going to end up together.”

his mom looked over at yours and smiled,

“i’d be surprised if they didnt honestly.”

los angeles, 2024

you walk through the door of your apartment, and you kick the door closed behind you. your bag slides off your shoulder, and you throw your keys onto the dresser next to the door. you only manage a long groan before flopping onto the couch.

“heya, charlie!” you scrunch your face up as you feel your dog’s cold, wet nose press against your cheek, as he gently wags his tail

“i missed you too boy, work was so tiring today.” you work at smosh with spencer, and have done for the past seven years after you left your job at another channel to join him. it was basically the best decision you’d ever made, every day filled with laughs; practically just a 24/7 hangout. you work with spencer on smosh games, but rarely ever go on camera, even if spencer’s there. you enjoy it anyway though.

you sit up and scratch behind his ears. he wiggles his body contently at your fondness. and then your stomach growls. it made sense, it was currently 6:43pm, and you last ate at noon, so you get up and drag yourself to make some mac n cheese.

as the pasta boils your phone starts ringing.

it’s james.

rubbing your hands over your face, you answer the dreaded call from your boyfriend james.

“heyyy~ sweetheart, y’doin okay? you were hic bein’ a bit of a bitch today, didnt answer my calls, what, you hate me or sumn?” he rambles, most of his words just slurring off.

“james, are you drinking again?” your voice is agitated, hearing the chattering and the low bass of a bar in the background.

you know he has a problem, and you’ve tried to get him to stop so many times. but you just can’t. he just won’t take your help.

“wha- i mean- well- no- but um- well y’r just gonna be mad at me like y’allways are” he stammers, not wanting to tell you the truth.

“no, i’m done with this. you say all this to me when you’re drunk, and then act like everything is fine! i’m sick of it! you spend so much time at the bar, and its the only place we ever go on dates, and i just end up babysitting you! so yeah i am mad! but for the last time! fuck you james.”

you hang up.

you start to tear up, the knot in your chest tight as your emotions come rushing to you, face heating up as tears begin to fall. the hissing of something behind you snaps you out of it.

“shit!” you rush over to to your stove, where the water from your pasta spills over the sides, the flames licking at the bottom of the pan.you take it off the heat and turn it off. it looks done anyway. you add some butter, and, of course, cheese. stirring gently, you sob.

james was so nice to you, always showering you with gifts and praise and love. but it was all for nothing. he just didn’t love you like he loved drinking in the end.

pouring the mac n cheese into a bowl, you call spencer.

“hey lemon! how’s my favourite person this fine evening?” you smile at the nickname.

florida, 2007

“spencer, you’re a boy. why are you so complicated? i mean, its just annoying!” you walk into his bedroom after his mom let you in, clearly pissed off. being 16 isn’t fun, especially when boys you like are rude to you.

“what did he do?” spencer doesn’t look up from his computer, just slightly turn his head.

“he said that i must eat lemons because of how bitter i am. i mean come on!” you lie on his bed and watch him play runescape.

“lemon… hmph” he just smiles and continues whatever he was doing on his game.

“what? nothing to say? ugh! you suuuuuck!”

los angeles, 2024

“yeah, i mean, no. i broke up with james.” you sniffle, and eat a forkfull of your food, elbows resting on the cold marble of the kitchen island.

“i mean- um- yeah thats horrible…” he says

“you’re allowed to celebrate, i know you hated him. and so did everyone. but still. im fragile right now!” you giggle through your gentle tears

“well, i mean, honestly? glad he’s gone. he sucked dude. not sure why you didn’t do it sooner. well, one positive to come of this, your pillows won’t stink of beer next time i nap at yours!” he replies, clearly happy for you.

“yeah,” you chuckle at the memory of spencer falling asleep on your bed, then completing his hair smelt like budweiser “that is true.”

“all seriousness though, are you okay?” his voice is genuine this time, filled with concern.

“no, not really. it’s just… different i guess. but, not much has changed y’know? like, it already felt like he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore…” you begin to ramble for at least 20 minutes, only to be met with the occasional ‘mhmn’ and ‘yeah’ from spencer. mid sentence, there’s a knock at your door.

“oh one sec, someone’s here.” you get up from your table and swing the door open to see a very sympathetic looking spencer, two target bags in his hands.

your jaw is on the floor. you were just crying to him over the phone, and he’d stayed whilst going out to get what you can only assume is things like sour patch kids and vanilla ice cream, which you could see at the top of the bag. your favourites.

“girls night?” he smirked and raised the bags at his sides.

all you can do is smile ear to ear, and wrap him in a tight hug. he leaned into you, basking in your sweet citrusy perfume.

“you’re my favourite, spencie.” you say into his shoulder.

as you both walk inside, charlie comes bounding over to spencer, his favourite person.

“who’s a good boy! charlie is!” spencer was now crouchedby your kitchen island, fussing over your dog as you walked to put on something more comfortable. you slid on some track pants and an old atari hoodie. walking back into your kitchen, spencer has unpacked the bags, and is creating his favourite conconction, The Agnew Sundae. basically the most sickeningly sweet ice cream ever. his dad made it for you both in the summer, and it consisted of:

vanilla ice cream

chocolate syrup

caramel sauce

whipped cream

sprinkles

mini marshmallows

chocolate chips

m&ms

and some crushed oreos to finish.

god, you know you’re going to regret this later, but boy was it a good way to cheer you up.

also strewn on the counter was his switch and copy of animal crossing, a few of his dvd’s for you to watch, and his mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

“spencer, how on earth did you get these? your mom lives across the country!” you hold up the baggie, and raise an eyebrow.

he looks up from his ice cream assembly station, and smirks.

“a magician never- ow!”

you cut him off by lightly jabbing his arm

“okay okay, she visited not to long ago - when she took you to the mall? and she gave me these to freeze and keep for an important event. i think she’d agree this is important.” you cant help but smile at his remark. you missed you moms.

“i’ll have to ring her later to thank her.” you say.

the night goes on, and you and spencer sit on the couch under a blanket watching barbie princess charm school. because what else are you going to watch?

as the movie goes on, and the effects of the agnew sundae kick in; you were dozing off on his shoulder. towards the end of the movie, so does he. he drifts off, comforted by your soft hair occasionally brushing against his face.

you stir awake, the sun beaming into your eyes through your semi-open blinds, and you’re hit by a wave of memory. everything that happened last night comes flooding back.

james’ call.

spencer’s call.

spencer showing up for you.

at the latter, you smile slightly. you prop yourself up on the sofa, and notice the absence of spencer’s warmth by you. frowning slightly, you walk into the kitchen.

“morning sleepyhead” his sweet voice rings through the room

“hey. i thought you’d’ve gone home”

“no, im not that mean! who do you take me for?” he retorts, his attention turning back to the pancakes on the stove.

“pancakes? what time is it?” you come up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder.

“yeah, and it’s about 10:30.” he leant his head on yours, flipping one. you had to admit, they look pretty good.

“10:30!?” you lift you head in surprise, looking at your phone “shouldn’t we be in work?”

“nope, i called us in sick. said my mom was having surgery. which she is, but i made it sound dramatic so we could stay off.” he looks at you, and smiles slightly.

“well, send her my love! i think i’ll go get dressed now.” he hummed, and you left the room.

opening your closet, you pick out a yellow baggy t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. you pull on some fluffy socks, and slip on a zip up hoodie. walking back out into the living room, spencer walks in with two plates piled high with pancakes, drenched in syrup and strawberries

“so,” you say, a fork full of pancakes in your mouth. “whats the plan for today?”

he looks over at you, and shrugs slightly. “not sure, we could go to the book store you like?”

“ah, you know the way to a girl’s heart“ you put a hand over your chest and giggle a bit.

a few hours later, you walk into the store, door creaking just a bit as a small brass bell chimes overhead. the air is filled with a comforting mix of old paper, leather bindings, and a hint of freshly brewed coffee from the corner cafe that you and spencer like to get tea from. you breathe it in deeply, a sense of calm washing over you. as you walk over the creaky wooden floorboards beneath you, soft warm light filters down from antique lamps, and cast a gentle glow over the rows of books. you ghost your fingertips over the cloth spines while the quiet murmur of whispered conversations and the occasional rustling of pages create a soothing background noise, almost like a lullaby. through spencer’s airpods, syd barrett serenades you both, and his voice blends seamlessly with the ambiance of the store.

“anything good today lemon?” spencer says as he shimmies up next to you in the aisle of towering book shelves, his voice like honey rolling off his tongue. his hair was unruly as always, but he looked so pretty in this light. his face was littered with freckles that you wish you could kiss. he’s smiling at you, and it snaps you back to reality, and reminds you of the fact you’re staring at him

“uh, yeah, i think i’ll get this one” you smile back, holding up a copy of memoirs of a geisha by arthur golden

“cool, shayne likes that one i think. but he likes every book so…” he smiles at his own remark “um, you want me to grab our normal seats in the cafe while you pay for that?”

“yes, please!” you reply eagerly, smiling as he walked off.

you walk up to the cashier, an older lady who always gives you a bookmark.

“thank you m’darlin’, have a lovely day!”

“you too mrs bryson!” you reply, heading over to spencer who’s sat in some plush leather armchairs. as you sit in comfortable silence with him, time seems to slow down, and for a moment, it's just you, spencer, the books, and the comforting atmosphere of this charming bookstore.

“i got you your sweet tea.” he says, handing you a plastic cup filled with your favourite tea.

he remembered.

fuck.

you were in love with spencer agnew, and it took you him handing you your favourite tea to realise it.

“thanks spence.” you say, still grasping the feelings in your chest.

while you read you book and drink your tea, you feel your attention drifting to him. you can't help but glance up from the pages every now and then, watching him as he sits across from you, his focus on his own book. his fingers absently tracing the rim of his coffee mug, his brow furrowing as he reads. the way the sunlight filters through the small window, casting a warm glow across his hair, highlighting the subtle streaks of lighter brown among his dark curls. you find yourself smiling at the sight of him, wondering when these small, mundane moments began to mean so much to you. the bookstore is quiet, aside for the murmur of others reading or talking in hushed tones. yet, with spencer sitting just a few feet away, the world feels like it's faded to the background. it's just you and him, sharing this space, this moment. you watch the way his lips move slightly as he reads, how he occasionally tilts his head in concentration, and the way his eyes light up when he finds something particularly interesting. as he looks up and catches you watching him, you feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest. he smiles at you, a slow, easy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. he raises an eyebrow, and you quickly look back down at your book, feeling your cheeks flush. but you can't help it; your gaze finds its way back to him, like he's the most interesting story in the room. he seems to notice the shift in the air between you. he closes his book and leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“everything okay?” he asks, his voice gentle, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

“yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “just... glad to be here with you.”

he nods, his smile growing a bit wider. “me too.”

as he settles back into his chair, you realize that this simple exchange has changed something. the air feels lighter, the connection between you stronger. you may have come here to read and relax, but now, sitting across from spencer, you know you've found something else entirely - something you never want to let go of.

as you leave the store, you’re panicking slightly as you realise you don’t know what to do. so instead you make up an excuse.

“i forgot my keys ," you blurt out, looking back at the bookstore. it's a thin excuse, but spencer doesn't seem to notice. he simply nods, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"do you want me to wait for you?" he asks, already reaching for his phone to check the time.

"no, it's fine," you reply quickly. "you can go ahead. i’ll just be a minute."

spencer seems reluctant to leave, but he nods, offering a warm smile before stepping out onto the street. you watch him walk away, his figure blending into the crowd as he heads toward the main crossing. your heart sinks a little as he disappears from view, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse.

the bookstore feels different now. the warm glow and soft murmurs are still there, but without spencer, it's like the color has faded a bit. you stand by the door, uncertain of what to do next. you could go back outside, catch up with him, and just say it. tell him how you feel. but the words seem stuck in your throat, and the thought of laying your feelings bare feels like too much, too soon.

you step back inside, pretending to look for something you might have left behind. the stacks of books seem to stretch endlessly in front of you, a maze of comforting distractions. you wander through the aisles, hoping to calm your racing thoughts, but all you can think about is spencer - his smile, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the warmth of his voice.

eventually, you find a quiet corner and sit down, closing your eyes for a moment. you know you have to do something. you can't just let him walk away without knowing how much he means to you. but the fear of rejection, of changing everything, feels overwhelming.

you realize you need time to sort through your feelings, to figure out the best way to approach this. with a heavy heart, you decide to make your way home, hoping the familiar surroundings will bring clarity. as you step out onto the street, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside you.

on the journey home, you replay the moments with spencer in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of how much he means to you. you know you can't keep hiding your feelings, but you also know you need to approach this with caution. as you unlock the door to your apartment, you make a silent promise to yourself—to take the time you need, to listen to your heart, and to find the courage to follow where it leads, even if it means risking everything for him.

when you get home, spencer tries calling you as he paces around his bedroom, his phone pressed against his ear. the ringing continues, but there's no answer. he frowns, feeling an uneasy twist in his stomach. maybe you're still in the bookstore. maybe your phone is on silent, or maybe you're just busy. he tells himself there's a reasonable explanation, but the doubt lingers.

as he walks to his kitchen, he dials again. this time, the call goes straight to voicemail. his instincts tell him something isn't right. the keys excuse felt odd, and your hurried departure only amplifies his worry. he takes a moment to think, then leaves his apartment, jumps in his car, starts the engine, and drives toward your apartment.

the streets pass in a blur as he navigates through the evening traffic, his mind racing with possibilities. he finds a parking spot near your building and heads to your door. the hallway is quiet, save for the distant sound of a tv from a neighbouring apartment. he takes a deep breath and knocks.

nothing.

he knocks again, this time a little louder. the knot in his stomach tightens. what if something's wrong? what if he's too late? he knocks a third time, and this time, he hears a faint rustling from inside. the door opens slowly, and there you are, standing in the doorway with a look of surprise and confusion.

"spence?" you say, blinking at him as if he's the last person you expected to see.

"i - i was worried," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "you didn't answer your phone, and i - i didn't know if you were okay."

you tilt your head, trying to process why he's here. his eyes search yours, and you can tell he's anxious, almost desperate to explain himself. "i'm fine," you say, "just had some stuff to think about."

he nods, but you can see he's not entirely convinced. there's something else, something deeper. he takes a step back, as if he's about to leave, but then he hesitates. "i - i have to tell you something," he blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. "i like you. like a lot. like i think i love you? and i know it might be weird, and i don't want to mess things up, but I just had to say it - because i couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

he looks at you, his eyes full of emotions you can't quite decipher yet. you nod, urging him to continue, even though your own heart is racing. there's something in his gaze that makes you realize this isn't just any confession - this is something that's been building for a long time.

"i've liked you since we were kids," he says, almost breathlessly. "i mean, you were always the coolest person I knew. you didn't care what anyone else thought. you were smart and funny and just... so genuinely kind. i remember when we used to ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, and you'd always be the first one to try something new. like, remember when you climbed that huge tree in mr lawson's yard just because you wanted to see the view from the top? i thought you were so brave."

he chuckles softly, his gaze softening as he reminisces. "and then, when we got older, you were always there for me. when my parents split up, and i felt like everything was falling apart, you were the one who came over with a pizza and just listened. you didn't try to fix it; you just let me talk. that's something i've always loved about you. you're a great listener, and you care about people. like, really care."

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes locking with yours. "it's not just that, though. It's the little things, too. the way you laugh at the dumbest of angela’s jokes, the way you get excited about your favorite books, and how you always know the right thing to say when I'm feeling down. you make everything feel... lighter, you know? like, even when things are tough, you find a way to make it better."

spencer pauses, his voice growing more earnest. "so yeah, i've um, been holding onto this for a while, and i just, couldn't keep pretending that i didn't feel this way. i like you - a lot. and i don't know if you feel the same way, but i just couldn't not tell you anymore."

he takes a step back, the tension in his shoulders indicating that he's prepared to leave if needed. "i don't want to make things weird between us. if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just had to say it, because you're the best thing in my life, and i can't keep acting like you aren't."

his confession takes you by surprise, but as he speaks, you feel a surge of warmth in your chest. the words you were struggling to say are suddenly so clear, so obvious. you watch as he starts to turn away, his shoulders slumping in resignation. before he can take another step, you grab his arm and pull him back, your lips pressing against his in a gentle, yet desperate kiss.

he freezes for a moment, stunned by your sudden action, then his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. when you finally break the kiss, you look into his eyes, and there's no doubt, no hesitation.

"it's always been you," you whisper, your voice soft but sure. "you're my person, spencer."

he hugs you tightly, his grip firm and comforting, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. it's a perfect moment, one that feels like the beginning of something new, something beautiful.

and as you stand there in each other's embrace, you know that everything's going to be okay, because you have each other. and that's all that matters.

[carlsdarling]

PLEASE do a part 3 of Carl with an older reader! It can be hcs, a blurb, whatever I just need more of that series 🤭

Carl x Older!Reader Headcanons Part IV

More headcanons... I adress with this more than one request, as there were many requests for a sequel. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (male receiving)

Carl always gets insecure and it drives him crazy when older guys give you interested looks. Last week, Jesus from Hilltop tried to strike up a conversation with you. Carl was standing a few meters away with Rick and some other people discussing the exchange of goods and kept looking over suspiciously the entire time. Rick noticed this angrily and had to keep chiding Carl to concentrate on the conversation, while Gregory stared irritably from one to the other. After a few minutes, Carl couldn't take it any longer - he turned around with an angry snort and marched over to you and Jesus, where he immediately put his arm around you possessively to mark his territory. Jesus frowned in amazement and raised his right eyebrow. "You... well, you two are..." he tried to pose a question, but Carl gruffly and aggressively cut him off. "Yes, we are. Do you have a problem with that?" Jesus raised both hands placatingly, rolled his eyes and backed away. "What does this guy think he's doing?" Carl hissed irately. "But Carl, he was just..." That was as far as you got because Carl pressed his lips roughly onto yours, gripping your hips, before pulling you behind the nearest shed, pressing you face-first against the wall to push up your dress, pull down your panties and take you from behind with fierce, jealous thrusts. The night that followed was filled with angry sex.

Carl is cuddly. He would never display it publicly, but as soon as the two of you are alone, he is all over you and wants to be held and cuddled. He is such a cute mix of being awkward and trying to be manly, especially when it comes to sex. He hasn't found his persona yet - either he acts overly dominant, or he submits to you completely; letting you take the lead and having your way with him. It’s pretty adorable.

Although the two of you have sex every day, you often surprise Carl by catching him pleasuring himself - usually in the bathroom. Each time he's embarrassed, each time he pretends it's just an one-time thing, and each time you end up in bed. Or in the shower, where you usually suck him off while he buries his hand in your wet hair and moans with his head thrown back, moving his hips. You love to put a hand on his butt in the process to feel the play of his muscles, or to toy with his balls. You also love the taste of his cock and his cum, as Carl loves to cum in your warm mouth and to see his cum dripping from your luscious, wet lips.

When Carl started getting close to Enid, it bothered you - but whenever Carl asked you if you were jealous, you denied it because you felt silly admitting it. Then Carl and Enid spent more and more time together, and gradually you began to feel uncomfortable with it. After all, this girl was a much better match for Carl in terms of age; besides, it was obvious that Enid had a crush on Carl. And she was sure to make a move on him soon, if she hadn't already. You became increasingly ill-tempered towards Carl, especially when he came home late and admitted to spending time with Enid when you asked where he was. You withdrew more and more from Carl, you hated this friendship, but you didn't dare speak openly to Carl about it - until the situation escalated one evening when Carl didn't come home again until around midnight and you could watch from the window as Enid hugged him goodbye. You were boiling with rage and left the house through the back door to spend the night at Lydia's, ranting at Enid the whole time. The next day, when Carl was on guard duty, you'd had enough: you sought out Enid and told her rudely to her face that she should keep her damn  slutty hands off Carl and respect his relationship with you. When Enid laughed at you and claimed that Carl was a much better match for her, you snapped, went nuclear and slapped her across the face before pushing her to the ground and running home. Of course, Enid told Carl about it and Carl confronted you. "Why would you do something like that?" he asked helplessly, ruffling his hair, his beautiful blue eye worried and annoyed at the same time. "Enid didn't do anything to you." Upset, you threw a sofa cushion against the wall, no longer able to hide your hurt and anger. "Oh no?" you shout, on the verge of tears. "You spend almost every evening with her, and she's clearly chasing after you!" Carl shook his head with a sigh and said that wasn't true, he and Enid were just friends. As a result, you withdrew even more from Carl and didn't let him get close to you anymore; you blocked all his advances and attempts at reconciliation. Did that horrible, homely girl have to destroy your relationship? You started to detest Enid. Carl realized that things couldn't go on like this; he also realized that Enid was trying to charm him and distance him from you. One evening, Carl came into your bedroom with a large bouquet of red roses. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/N," he said contritely. "You were right about Enid. And I was unfair to you. I shouldn't have neglected you like I did.“

Carl crawled under the covers to you and kissed your neck longingly. "Please, let me make it up to you," he pleaded, his eye expressing affection and desire. "You are my eyerything... you always were, always will be... I am so sorry..." You had missed it so much, his skin so hot against yours, his moans, Carl sucking your nipples with those sultry noises, his big dick inside you, stretching you out, his hands on your body, the trembling when he climaxed and his thrusts got faster and harder, his fucked out face, his messy sweaty hair and all the cuteness overload. Afterwards, Carl told you, holding you firmly in his arms, that he had virtually cut off contact with Enid because she was constantly trying to steal him from you. "I love you, Y/N. Only you. It's just you and me." Finally reassured, you were able to sleep in his arms for the first night in a long time without the fear of losing him.

You and Carl haven't talked about it openly yet, but you've recently started clearing out a room in the house, painting the walls a sunny yellow and furnishing the room with baby things as if by accident - you got a cradle, baby clothes and a rocking horse from Maggie, and apparently your friend Lydia dropped a few hints in the community, because one day Abraham turned up with a still-original baby changer that he'd looted from somewhere and then got to work setting it up. Rosita found baby bedding and a mobilée somewhere. Deanna retrieved Spencer's old storybooks and put them on the little blue shelf that Gabriel had given you, and Michonne brought some baby bottles, a plush dinosaur and lullers from the supermarket. "When would you and Carl like to have a baby?" she asked straightforwardly. "Or are you already...?" She gazed meaningfully at your belly. "Uuum... no... and actually... we've never talked about whether we even want a child..." you mumbled.  Michonne eyed you with incomprehension. "And why the baby's room then?" You seemed embarrassed. "It was just... we kind of started furnishing it, but that doesn't mean we wanted a child... it was more out of... boredom?" Michonne just grinned knowingly.

A few days later, Carl told you in bed at night that he wouldn't mind skipping the condoms. Your breath caught in your throat. "Do you mean...?" Carl nodded fervently. "I would love to have a baby together," he whispered with so much affection.

Tags: @tessasweet @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @knochentrocken0808 @xxcarlswifexx

[rollingsins]

all hers, part iii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: you’re hers. but she’s yours too. sometimes she needs a little reminding. sometimes you have no choice but to tie her up. 

warnings: (+18): smut: pussy-eating, vaginal fingering, bondage, dom!reader,  ghostface!tara.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: for anon, who requested dom!reader with some bondage. let me know what you want to see next ;) 

In the end, it really isn’t that hard to hoodwink your Dad into thinking you were fast asleep in your bed most weeknights. 

You followed the same routine, ate dinner with him, said goodnight, then climbed out your bedroom window into Tara’s waiting car. In the mornings, she’d wake you with lazy kisses, take you back home before he woke up. You’d meet him downstairs for breakfast. And he didn’t suspect a thing.

It was one of those nights again. You were watching a movie tonight, some indie horror Tara had on her watchlist. You lay against her, sprawled across the couch lazily, head on her shoulder. When you’d first met her, you’d hated horror, hated any kind of gore. Now, you don’t mind it so much.

The actress is kind of cute. You find yourself thinking. She has dark hair, dark eyes, just like Tara’s. You briefly consider saying it aloud. You think better of it. 

“The main girl is kind of cute.” Tara says, casually. Sometimes you think she can read your mind. 

Jealousy flickers hot through you. It wasn’t often Tara expressed interest in other girls. In fact, it was almost never. She was completely devoted to you, or so you had thought. 

You frown, grip her hand a little tighter. 

“Too bad for her, you’re mine.” 

She hums, a smile playing on her lips. She likes it when you do that. Claim her. When you’re as possessive as she is. 

You turn your attention back to the TV, a little irked. She isn’t that cute, you think. And she isn’t Tara’s type. At all. Unconsciously, you tug Tara’s hand into your lap, grip tight. 

“What would you do if she was here right now?” Her voice is low. Lips against your ear. “If she was here. In this room. Hitting on me.” 

It’s a weighted question. You tighten your grip on her waist. 

“I’d tell her to fuck off.” 

Tara’s watching you. Your jaw is clenched. 

“Is that all?” 

You look at her. Try to figure out what kind of game she’s playing.

“What if you walked in on us? Having sex.” 

At this you sit up. Stare at her. Even the thought is like ice water down your spine. 

“I’d kill you.” Something flickers in her eyes. 

“Just me?” She whispers. “Would you kill her too?” 

Desire flickers deep within you. You let yourself think. Wonder. If some whore put her hands all over Tara. Kissed her. Took her to bed. You imagine walking in on them, some other girl in Tara’s lap. Riding her. Kissing her. Jealousy flickers through you, tearing your stomach into knots. 

“I’d gut her like a fish.” Is what you say. “And then fuck you until you forgot her name.” 

Tara’s mouth falls open slightly. Her eyes black with desire. She presses up into you, takes your lips in a searing kiss. 

“Because I’m yours.” She says, breathlessly. “And you’re mine.” 

You nod.

She presses up into you. Kisses you fiercely. 

“Fuck.” She murmurs against your lips. She’s excited. You can tell by the way her hands are roaming, tugging gently at the base of your shirt.  “Let’s go upstairs, baby. I want you.” 

It’s a familiar trek by this point. 

You’re fused at the lips, as always, wild hands and gentle gasps as you try to undress each other before you reach the bedroom. You’re already down to your underwear by the time your back hits the mattress, Tara’s weight on top of you, similarly undressed as she fumbles with your underwear. 

She’s gripping your hips. Unclipping your bra, pressing into you. You feel strange. Usually you like it this way. Tara on top, dominating you. It isn’t what you want tonight, you realize all at once. The thought of someone else with her is fresh in your mind. You want to flip her over. Make her remember she’s yours. 

“Stop.” You command. She pauses, looks at you, a little confused. Her hand brushes your cheek.

“What is it babe?” She asks, “Are you okay?” 

“I don’t want it like this.” She looks confused. You grab her suddenly, flip her around onto the bed. Crawl over her. She’s watching, a little surprised. 

“I want to be on top.” 

You press a hot kiss to her lips. She smiles against your mouth. “You know I like it when you’re on top.” She says, sucking at the base of your neck. Her fingers trail down between your legs. 

“No, baby.” You say, you reach for her hands, hold both of them over her head. “I want to be on top.”

She blinks up at you. 

“Oh.” 

You kiss her once more, bite at her bottom lip as you let her hands go. You press your full weight onto her, holding her into the mattress. Grind down into her as you reach for her thighs, guide them around your waist. 

You slip your tongue between her lips, grind mindlessly against her as you kiss. She’s wet, you can feel her on your stomach. You break away from Tara’s lips, trail kisses down her chest. 

Her hands grip tight around your neck, tugging you back up to her. 

She kisses you again, her thighs locking tight around your waist. You murmur against her lips, try to pull yourself out of her grasp. This isn’t what you’d meant. You were on top but she still had all the control. 

“Stop.” You say, but she doesn’t listen. Her lips fall to your jaw, sucking hotly as she grinds herself up into you. 

“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself I’m going to tie them up.” You order, suddenly. Your own voice startles you. She pauses, looks up at you. 

“Is that what you want?” You whisper against her lips. “You want me to tie you up and fuck you?”

Her eyes dart between yours. She licks her lips. 

“I want to touch you.” Is her answer, but you shake your head. 

“No touching. Not until you’ve earned it.” 

You can see the fight in her eyes. She wants to challenge you, you can tell. She’s not naturally submissive. Slowly, she nods. 

You smile. Nuzzle into her neck. 

“Good girl.” 

She lets out a breathless little sigh at that, her mouth dropping open only slightly. You press warm kisses down her chest, stopping at the slope of her chest to take her breast in your mouth. She groans as you tease her, kissing, scraping your teeth over her nipples. 

“YN.” She moans. Her hands are in your hair, trying to push you down to where she wants you, “Please.”

You release her nipple with a wet pop, look up at her as you untangle her hands from your hair. “No touching.” You insist. 

Her lip twitches. She rises up to meet you, takes your face in a desperate kiss. She tugs you into her lap before you can protest, her hands grip your ass as she bites down on your earlobe. 

“You’re mine.” She growls into your ear, “Mine to touch, mine to play with. If I want to touch you I will.” 

Her words go straight to your pussy. You feel yourself flood with arousal as you close your eyes, imagine just letting her throw you back onto the bed and do whatever she wants to you. 

No. Not yet. 

You grab her face, take her lips in a searing kiss. Then you’re taking her hands and tugging them above her head, pushing her back into the mattress. 

“Naughty girl.” You scold her, “I told you not to touch. I warned you.” 

You release her. Climb off her body and make your way over to her closet. She has a scarf somewhere, you remember, fish it out of one of her drawers. 

When you get back to the bed she’s watching you with clouded eyes. 

“Scoot up.” You tell her. She doesn’t. You grip her legs, lift her to the headboard. Her eyes flash, surprised by your strength. When you reach for her hands, this time she doesn’t protest. 

“So disobedient.” You murmur as you tie the scarf around her wrists, “What am I going to do with you?” 

You loop the scarf to the headboard. 

She looks so pretty in her restraints, hands held high above her head, lips blood red and swollen from your kisses. There’s something in her eyes, you can’t quite make out; arousal, sure, tinged with a little bit of uncertainty. Like she’s turned on, but she isn’t sure why. 

You reward her with a kiss. Move back to admire your handy-work. She’s only in her underwear now, bra long discarded. You finish the job, pulling her panties down her legs. You lick your lips. She looks delectable. Restrained, and wet and naked. All yours. 

“I can’t move my hands.” She says, pointedly. 

“Yes baby, that’s the point.” 

She tugs at her restraints, but they don’t even budge. The knots you learned in girl scouts were finally coming in handy. 

“I can’t touch you.” She whines. 

“It’s my turn to touch you.” You say. You spread her legs, nestle yourself between them. “If you’re a good girl and do exactly what I say, maybe I’ll take them off.” 

Her eyes flash. She goes quiet, stops struggling against the binds. You press a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“Can you do that?” You ask, “Can you be good for me?” 

She likes that, you note. She relaxes slightly, presses up into your kiss. 

You kiss her, slow. Trail your hands down her body. Press warm kisses down her body, drag your lips down her stomach. It wasn’t often you got to do this, worship her. You take your time, kissing her hips, the tops of her thighs, tasting the sweet salt of her skin. 

By the time you reach her center, she’s drizzling arousal onto the mattress. 

“Don’t tease.” She’s looking down at you. Pulling hard against her restraints. “Please, baby.” 

“Hmm.” You press a kiss to her thigh. “Orgasms are for good girls. But you haven’t been a good girl tonight, have you, darling?” 

She furrows her eyebrows. Tries to squeeze her legs tighter around you. 

“I told you not to touch and you did.” You sigh, “I even had to tie you up.” You press a heavy kiss to her hip. She’s tugging a little too hard at her restraints, now, desperate to free herself. You grip her thighs, hold her in place. 

“Stop it.” You say, voice hard. She blinks, stops struggling. 

“See?” You say, “Bad girl. You can’t help it, can you?” 

“I just want to touch you.” She says. Her voice is gravelly, low. Not quite pleading. But close. 

You take pity on her, press a gentle kiss to the top of her public bone. Her breath hitches. 

“I know.” You murmur against her skin, “But it’s my turn, baby.” 

You dip down, press your lips to her velvet folds. Her taste, her smell makes you salivate. You smooth your tongue through her, taking as much of it as you can into your mouth. Tara gasps beneath you as you begin your assault. 

It’s so nice to eat her pussy uninterrupted. Without her trying to tug you back up to kiss you, without her greedy hands reaching for you, always searching for more. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like receiving pleasure, it was just that she desired your pleasure more than her own. She had this compulsion to please you. If you had your fingers inside her, she’d slip hers into you too. If you wanted to go down on her, she’d insist you sit on her face. Sometimes she’d cum before you even got to touch her, turned on so much just from fucking you. It wasn’t fair. You wanted her as much as she wanted you. 

Her body is tight, hips moving madly against your lips. She’s tugging on her restraints again.  

“Baby.” You press a warm, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, “Relax.” 

“Come up here.” She says. There’s no control in her voice anymore. She’s needy, desperate, “Come sit on my face. Let me taste you.” 

“Soon, sweetheart.” You murmur. You rub the outside of her thighs, trying to give her some comfort. “Right now I want to make you feel good.” 

You dart your tongue back out, lap gently at her. Syrupy sweetness oozes onto your tongue, you lick it up, greedy. You swirl your tongue in circles around her clit, gripping onto her thighs, trying to pull her even closer. She’s tilting her hips up to meet your mouth, breathless little moans slipping from her lips the way they always did when she was close. 

You lift your fingers to slip into her, hum against her clit as you feel her wet heat encompass you whole. You curl your fingers, tongue swirling madly around her as her legs clench around your head. Drive your fingers hard into her. She’s earned it now, you think as you suck gently on her clit. Such a good girl, letting you tie her up and fuck her. She deserves a reward. You tell her so. Press a final kiss to her thigh before you take her to the edge, sucking and licking and fucking her into her orgasm. 

She lets out a long, quiet moan, her entire body seizing as she cums in your mouth. You groan, her thighs pressed tight around your ears, her arousal dripping past your lips and onto your chin. You can feel her tight cunt throbbing around you, heartbeat steady as she pants, trying to recover her breath. 

You press one more kiss to her. Untangle yourself from her legs. 

You climb up her body, press a wanting kiss to her swollen lips. 

“Good girl.” You mumble into her lips, “Thank you, baby.” 

She’s slack against you, body still thrumming from her orgasm. You tuck yourself against her body, rest your head on her chest. 

“Untie me.” She says, not even seconds later, “Please.” 

You reach for the scarf, fumble for a moment before you tug it off her. Her wrists are red, chaffed from all her struggling. Before you can even toss the scarf aside, her hands are on you trying to pull you closer. She sighs against your lips, like everything is suddenly right in the world. 

You close your eyes, kiss her, not even realizing how much you’d missed her hands on you. Before you can enjoy the moment, she’s flipping you over, pinning you down into the mattress. You gasp. She hovers above you, her thigh between your legs. She’s gripping your hands over your head, looping the scarf around your wrists. 

“You had your fun.” Tara murmurs, eyes glinting with mischief, “Now it’s my turn.” 

Next part

[elliespeach]

no chances part six | ellie williams

pairing: ellie williams x afab reader synopsis: you and ellie are on rival volleyball teams and after letting your competitive nature get the better of both of you, tensions are high on and off the court. warnings: 18+, foul language, implied sexual themes, no smut, fluff after the angst, ellie is a little mean to herself in this part, mentions of weed uhhhh i think thats it? if i missed anything pls let me know authors note: this is the last part guys :)) i wanna do an epilogue but it wont count as a full part really but expect that!! thank you guys so so so much for all the love for this series it really means a lot you have no idea. my bad it took me so long to get this part out, ive been quite busy with life and being sickly but i am so happy to share this with you guys finally !!! i hope it's everything u wanted and more <333 w peace n loveeee

somehow you had managed to keep yourself collected until the end of the game, returning to the gym after splashing some water on your face. ellie never made an appearance, instead remained sulking in her car at how she had treated you. she knew you didn’t deserve that and it haunted her while she drove, alone and in silence. with her absence your team had taken the win but you found it hard to be in a cheerful mood, instead putting on a fake face for your teammates while they were over the moon. the bus ride back was loud and full of energy, everyone was complimenting each other on how they had played, and congratulating each other on a glorious victory. 

at the beginning of the season this would have never bothered you so much. ellie’s words did little to affect you then, but now it took over your mind and her words echoed in your head. her decision to sit out because of you weighed on you heavily and it felt like you were about to burst into tears at any moment. not only sit out, but not show up at all. you’ve always hated her, but the past few months have felt different. felt lighter and more playful, rather than how it was in the beginning. 

staring out of the window, watching the blurry trees zip by while the bus went down the highway, you thought about the hotel. the one little moment you two had shared that wasn’t driven by lust. you weren’t sure what it was that night, but you remember how nice it had felt. seeing her in a completely different light for the first time, wrapped in her arms and just feeling at peace. a tear fell from your eye and you quickly wiped it away, shaking your head and deciding to not think about it right now. 

when you got back into your dorm room, peeling off your clothes and jumping straight into the shower you finally broke down. letting out any and all emotions you had about her. you remained in the shower way longer than you had to, just letting the hot water just run over you. it didn’t bother you until the memory of one of the nights ellie and you had come back here flooded your mind. you had felt extra sweaty from the game and wanted a shower, and ellie didn’t hesitate to join you. she had laughed while stepping into the small shower, “we should conserve water, y’know?” 

that night had been the same as the rest, after the shower she promptly went home, leaving you satisfied but missing something. and that something vanished the second she closed the door behind her. 

with that you ended your shower, stepping out into the cold of your small bathroom. a shiver went through you while you looked in the mirror, seeing how disheveled you looked. it was pitiful to be honest. you thought about texting her, telling her all of the things that crossed your mind as you stood in front of the mirror. how could you say that to me? i was just trying to help. 

only to realize that you didn’t even have her phone number. it made some sense, there wasn’t a need to anyway as you only spoke at games. still, the realization burned in your chest like wildfire and you quickly made a decision. “fuck it–” you said to yourself, throwing off your towel and replacing it with comfortable clothes. thankfully, during one of your new found traditions with ellie, she realized she didn’t bring any of her stash and you had looked a little too disappointed for her liking. she offered her dorm up almost instantly, following it up with a quick and faulty reasoning. you knew exactly where to go. 

within seconds you were in the stairwell, keys jingling in your hand and the sound of your slippers echoing off the walls. you went down three floors all the while rehearsing the speech you were going to give her the second you laid eyes on her. because of me? you didn’t play because of me like it’s my fault that we’re in this fucked up situation? you trotted down the last few steps leading to the exit door. you’re vulnerable enough to have sex with me every week but a conversation is far out of your realm of capabilities i guess. you pushed open the door with a huff. you’re too stupid to realize that we might actually hav–

“can you hold the door for me–” the sound of her voice made you look up from the ground, your pace diminished and you took slow steps out of the door. it shut with a click behind you while you looked into those familiar green eyes. “oh, fuck,” ellie said nervously, she defiantly wasn’t expecting it to be you. 

“what are you doing here?” your eyebrows furrowed, but your tone remained neutral. suddenly feeling the burning in your chest start to evaporate. the lamp posts cast a dim light on her standing on the sidewalk, playing with her fingers nervously and often shifting her weight on either foot. 

“was waiting for someone to let me in–” 

“no i mean, like why are you on my campus?” you asked, swiftly putting your keys in your pocket.

she hesitated, looking down to the ground before back up to you. “i uh, wanted to talk to you–” 

“thats a first,” the words spilled out of your mouth with a sarcastic laugh. 

ellie’s face contorted into a grimace and she shook her head, “whatever, i knew i should’ve just went home.” she spun around, taking only a few short steps down the sidewalk. 

involuntarily your eyes rolled and you jogged to catch up to her, pulling her wrist and turning her back around to you. now only being a few feet apart,  ellie could see the redness in your eyes from crying. being embarrassed you looked to the side and let go of her wrist. “if you wanna talk, let’s talk.” 

she gestured to your pocket where you had placed your keys, “i don’t wanna keep you from wherever you were going,” she tried to deflect.

you blinked, quickly trying to come up with anything besides telling her that you were on your way to give her a piece of your mind. although now standing in her presence everything felt too harsh, all the words you had prepared slipped away from you. “it wasn’t as important,” you shrugged, offering her a faint smile, “we can talk.” 

“so i’m important?” ellie teased, her lips curling at the ends slightly and she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants. seeing your smile ignited something inside of her that made her feel softer, more comfortable. 

“didn’t say that,” you quickly rebutted while walking leisurely past her, expecting her to follow you and she did. 

“yeah but, you implied it.” she quipped, coming up beside you and keeping your pace. the lamp posts did little to illuminate the world around you and most of the walkway was dark until you were directly underneath the light. 

you sighed lightheartedly, “yeah, whatever,” you began, taking a beat between your thoughts. “so are you like, gonna apologize for being a total asshole?” 

ellie sucked in a deep breath, looking straight ahead. the cool night breeze was comfortable, but it didn’t stop your face from growing hot with anticipation. “yeah, i’m sorry ‘bout that,” ellie’s voice dropped, the amusement in her tone vanishing with the wind. “i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” 

“then why did you?” you asked genuinely, your voice matching hers. your eyes were glued to your feet as they scraped the cement below. 

“i don’t know,” she responded, taking a quick look at you but you didn’t meet her eyes although you could feel her gaze. “i do know that whatever this is between us is confusing–” 

“i’m not confused,” you admitted, playing with your hands. “i don’t think you are exactly that confused either. that conversation by your car a million years ago? you all but told me how you felt, so why is it so much harder for you now?” 

“because someone like you doesn’t need to waste their time with me,” ellie’s eyes diverted to the field beside the sidewalk, staring into the darkness while you finally glanced over to her. “i’ve been awful to you, even before our–” her hands gesture in front of her, “you know.” 

“we’ve both been awful to one another, ellie. somehow none of that changes anything for me, does it for you?” her eyes found yours, now under the glow of the lamp posts her green eyes bore into yours and her expression was one you hadn’t seen before. 

“i don’t want it to,” she started, keeping her gaze on you as you two remained walking forward. her mind was racing, she had been too focused on how she treated you that she didn’t even take into account that it was a two sided street. if she was being honest with herself, she never paid mind to how mean you could be right back to her. it finally registered that no matter what you did to her, her feelings for you would never dissipate. “i meant what i said that night.” 

“about what?” 

“about not wanting to see you upset,” her feet stopped, and you only took another step before noticing, turning to stand in front of her. there was a moment of silence as you looked at her trying to find her words. “i really am sorry for everything.” 

you approached her, standing just inches away. “i’m sorry too,” her eyes wandered up from the ground and into yours yet again, “we really were assholes to each other, huh?” you chuckled lightly, trying to alleviate the heavy mood that had settled around both of you. 

ellie couldn’t help but laugh as well, “yeah, we were.” your hand reached up to her cheek gently and she leaned her head into your hand. “but that all stops, okay? i promise.” ellie’s hand grabbed the wrist that was holding her cheek, rubbing her thumb across your soft skin. 

“i’m not promising anything,” you joked, the tone in your voice going up. “it’s fun to see you all flustered.” 

“oh, so it’s like that?” ellie’s lips turned up at your words and she grasped for your hips but you snaked away. you giggled, playfully turning around to escape her grasp. you made it only a few feet before she had come up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. you both fumbled over one another, rolling into the grass beside the sidewalk all while laughing at each other. 

“ellie!” you giggled again, the grass tickling every part of your exposed skin. ellie had landed on top of you, her arm planted firmly in the grass beside your head as she looked down on you and the smile on her face never faltering, along with yours. 

in this moment, it was only you and ellie. everything around the two of you seemed to disappear as you longingly stared into each other. a piece of her hair had fallen from her tight bun and you gently tucked it behind her ear, running your hand along her cheek again. “can i take you on a date? a real one?” she asked in a whisper, never taking her eyes off of you. 

“you don’t even have to ask,” you answered her in the same tone, your chest swelling with her every word. ellie leaned down and planted a soft, loving kiss on your lips. something unlike she had ever done. every kiss you two had shared was sloppy, desperate and full of lust. but this time, it was sweet, slow and passionate. her hand cupped your cheek before she finally pulled away, resting her forehead on yours. 

“if our coaches could see us now,” she laughed, which made you do the same. you wrapped your arms around her neck as you always do, the warmth from her radiating like the sun. 

“bet they’d still try to bench us–” another spring of laughs came from the both of you before ellie finally pulled herself off of you. standing up she stretched her arm to help you up, which you took happily. “do you wanna stay over?” 

the question was like music to ellie’s ears, “i’d love to–” she planted a delicate kiss on your cheek. 

“good good,” you trailed, turning around to look at your dorm building which was easily more than a few yards away by now. being around ellie brought out the competitiveness in you yet again but this time it was more playful. “wanna race?” 

“seriously?” she turned her head, the smile on ellie’s face was now permanent in your presence. 

“what? you scared?” you mocked her lightly, tapping her shoulder and she scoffed at the accusation. 

“you know what? yeah, let’s race. i bet you–” 

you took off sprinting, even in your slippers you had managed to get a great head start. you could hear ellie’s footsteps behind you, slowly catching up. “hey, that’s cheating!” she shouted from behind you. while she watched you win the childish bet, she felt stupid for not allowing herself this type of happiness before, but if she had the chance to go back and change anything, she never would.

epilogue

[ultimateloserboy]

I’ve been holding back this ramble forever but the food episode makes me tear up and i NEED to talk about it.

The food episode was the only episode I really couldn’t watch as a kid. I remember being horrified by it. to this day i still feel uneasy thinking about it, even though it doesn’t scare me in the slightest anymore. the reason i feel uneasy now isnt because im scared, its because to me its the saddest episode of the whole series and makes me want to punch walls. when i was younger i didnt notice a lot of the things ive noticed now, and every time i watch the episode i notice even more.

a lot of people talk about this episode as if red guy ran away and wants nothing to do with the house, that he’s trying to save the other two by bringing them to his world. while i dont think this is a wrong or bad interpretation, considering it’s understandable, id like to talk about my own interpretation. i dont think red guy even knew how he left. keep in mind he just exploded and then woke up in an office. there’s absolutely nothing suggesting he ran away on purpose. all he wanted was for colin to shut up, he wasnt intending to find the room he found. this itself isnt an interpretation, its a fact, BUT how he feels about it and what he does in the red guy world is completely up to interpretation! mine is that he wants to go home instead of trying to get the other two out of it. lemme explain ok hear me out:

throughout the entire food episode red guy is constantly popping up in the background somewhere. hes drawn behind windows and his head is in the microwave in one shot. when duck knocks the camera over for a split second you can even see his legs as it falls. the leg thing is what really got me, because most other times he was simply drawn. but those were his actual legs standing in the kitchen. to me it represents the fact that he isnt actually there but is “haunting” the other two. they dont really remember him but they can see him out of the corners of their eyes. hes blurry and far away but they KNOW someone is there (or WAS there, i should say). but on his end i think it could represent how hes still there in his head, how hes still singing songs and shit like that despite being out of that world. he says he hated that world, that hes allergic to music, but now that hes gone from it its stuck in his head. he misses the music. he misses his friends. hes still there in spirit.

before i continue id just like to say that, no, the main three INCLUDING RED GUY dont always want to leave the house. especially when they have to leave the others behind. whenever theyre off somewhere they usually want to go back home, yellow guy even said “i want to go home” word for word once. but he also said “no more songs” these things can exist at the same time guys. they can not want to drown in oil but still want to live in their house, yall realize that right? thats a huge theme in the show, that the house and the main three have a very complicated relationship. they dont want to leave their home they just want it to, yaknow, NOT EAT THEM. so i think red guy wanting to come home isnt at all out of character. and he doesnt like the red guy world anyway, why would he take his friends there when theyre wacky as shit and wouldnt fit in there or enjoy it at all? also id like to make the point that he doesnt know what’s happening in the house (at least not the seriousness of it) until he sees the machine. so him trying to save the other two from getting munched makes no sense to me personally. AGAIN THO THIS IS JUST MY INTERPRETATION!! YOURS IS VALID TOO AND I LOVE YOU!!!

But anyway continuing on, ducks reaction especially makes me insane. whenever i see how duck acts in episodes like “jobs” when he starts freaking out and trying to get the first aid kit for yellow guy im reminded of this episode. duck really does love his friends at heart. he doesnt want to leave the house, he sees no point, but to me the reason he doesnt want to leave is BECAUSE of his friends (or at least one of the reasons). in the tv series duck has a whole argument with red guy about leaving, and while some people say this duck is different than webseries duck i have to disagree. i think duck wouldve always argued about staying, but i also think hed always want to leave if red guy did. duck always switches up as soon as something is “wrong”. he always wants to stay until one of his friends is acting weird/hurt/missing and then suddenly the world isnt right and he doesnt want to be there. not only that but he will do everything in his power to fight against the things keeping him from his friends or hurting them, even if it means risking his own life. he knew some weird shit was going on every time he answered the phone, but despite that he continued answering anyway. he interrupted the songs and pushed things away and kept running to the phone, being disobedient and not giving a damn. this isnt unusual for duck, but it makes me especially ill, because he acts very confused as well. hes very upset, not mad like he usually is but genuinely upset and worried. most likely because of how hazy his memory is. my favorite scene of the series is when he pushes over the camera and says “i dont want to do this anymore” it rips my heart apart hes just like me fr. it also comes back to the transport episode, where hes like “well the song wasnt that great but at least it was funny. nobody gets TOO hurt by these songs and stuff so who cares? why leave?” i think hes always thought this way, the reason he says “i dont want to do this ANYMORE” is because suddenly the world has shifted. suddenly things are much more sinister and make even less sense. suddenly he is in genuine danger, and he isnt coming back this time. things have gone too far now, and he tries tearing down reality itself to get out, but unfortunately hes just not strong enough.

i also like to think that the food is singing about red guy the whole time, not actually food, and how he deserves punishment, and if you end up like him youll be punished too (which is exactly what happens to duck for answering the phone) “the bad, not-healthy foods are very rude! and must leave through the catflap!” isnt that what red guy did? he wandered too far and saw what he shouldnt have so he was sent away. also the steak says “you need to know whats right from wrong” which doesnt go with the rest of the song at all and seems to be directed at duck specifically. it seems more like theyre trying to keep duck and yellow guy in line rather than teach them about food. when they say “you shouldnt eat food from a strangers plate” considering the previous lyrics and the context before the chanting i think theyre talking about not believing what youre told by “strangers” (aka the non-teacher characters) theyre saying not to listen to whatever red guy is trying to say, to not answer the phone, to not end up like him. or at least thats what i think anyway.

lastly, the ending. yellow guy sitting in the kitchen alone, in the dark, covered in blood while the phone loudly rings is probably the most haunting part of the series to me. remember what i said about not being scared? well i LIED. this scene specifically still scares the fuck out of me. it fills me with genuinely painful dread. the scene where he looks over at the phone, hearing it but not getting up to answer it and letting it ring until red guy gives up is heartbreaking. im not sure if yellow guy even knows what’s happening in this scene, but hes been taught by now to NOT ANSWER THE PHONE. so he doesnt. and the teachers leave him alone with the phone because theyre confident he wont answer it. and theyre right. it breaks my heart just looking at it. in the next episode he ends up fighting back just like duck did, but just like duck, he cant truly do anything. it really puts into perspective how powerless all three of them are. god it ruins me. all they wanted was to know what the biggest thing in the world was, and now theyve been torn apart for wandering too far. cries and sobs

[aphroditedahlias]

hiiii omg i was so excited when you posted another part of the bully eren series!! ive been keeping up with the series ever since 2021 and usually i hate bully fics but the way you write eren is just chefs kiss 🤌

i was even more excited when i saw requests are open!

**TW// i wanted to ask what would happen if eren either accidentally/purposely killed us? I thought of this based off the last line from the recent eren fic. would he be the type to commit suicide or try to move on with his life (id be surprised if this is the case based on the other asks sent in previously lol) reader can be any gender btw

tysm for your wonderful writing! i hope you’re doing well!

Bully eren x G/N reader

What if he purposely k!lled reader?

Tw/ light non con, murdaaa, kn!fe, blood, clearly yandere , angst.

thank you sm whoever you are for keeping up with my posts even though i’m sooo inconstant<33

not proofread 🌝 as always lololol

There’s something so seeet and hypnotic about death. Some people say they see God, or a light. As your eyes daze and your pulse slows, you can hear wren cooing in your ear.

“ it’s okay baby. I know it’s hard but it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared i’m right behind you.”

Blood flows from your wounds, pulsing and flowing freely. There’s not enough time. There’s no way for you to call for help. There’s no way for you to fight, so you just lay back in erens arms and let him soothe you.

You should’ve known. You should’ve tried and fought harder to get away. You thought if you just ignored him he would go away but it just got worse and worse.

You’d come home from school and nothing particularly interesting happened that day but apparently it was the last straw for eren.

You didn’t answer his texts, you took a different route to class to avoid going past him. You even shut and lock the door behind you knowing he was calling your name.

He waited until nightfall to break in through your kitchen window. Mostly prepared, he’d already had a bag filled with ziplocks, and a box cutter. He knew he had the box cutter in his bag but yet he still grabbed a steak knife from your counter, testing it on his own skin to see if it was sharp enough before heading to your room.

He watched you sleep for hours, deliberately taking his time watching your chest rise and fall with each breath. He wasn’t deciding whether or not to let you live. Thjs had gone on long enough and he was sure this was the end, he just wanted to savor the moment.

He dumped out his container of items and went over to your sleeping body, gently tying your wrists and ankles to the bed posts.

He took his time and caressed your soft, warm skin. He stripped you from your clothes and ran his hands up and down your body.

He used duck tape to put over your mouth after kissing your soft lips.

He stripped himself of his own clothing and lied with you, tucking his face into your neck. He waited and waited before continuing. He kissed down your body before reaching your sex.

He licked and spit on you, devouring you knowing it would be the last time.

He moaned against you and sucked harder, exploring your body like never before.

You started to wake up, writhing at the pleasure but quickly that pleasure turned into fear and confusion.

You tried to say his name which only spurred him to continue fucking you with his mouth. The sound of you begging and whining through the tape just got him harder. He began to grind against your mattress trying to receive his own pleasure. He kept licking and sucking, sloppily making a scene out of eating you.

He abruptly stopped and started to kiss his way back up your trembling body. He whispered words you couldn’t understand as he kissed your ear.

“ Don’t be scared “

He said it so quietly and softly that you almost believed him.

But the sudden sharp pain in your right wrist brought numb tears to your eyes. You tried to scream but the fucking tape wouldn’t allow you to. You felt him cut across your left wrist.

He undid your zip ties but your wounded body wouldn’t move, you felt hopeless and paralyzed as your eyes went back and forth between your arms.

He scooped you up and laid you against his chest and turned thought it was all a mistake. Eren wasn’t here to kill you. It was just a big misunderstanding and he would explain everything.

But that only happens in fairytails. Eren was no prince, he was no hero here to save you.

You felt him wrap his arms around you tightly before puncturing you once again, this time in the chest. He let the knife sit there a moment before slowly removing it.

“ I’m not sorry baby. I told you this would happen. If I have to live without you in my life, then you don’t get to live at all.”

you felt tears against your neck as he whispered to you.

He took your duck tape off and let you take shallow breaths. Too weak to scream, you only slumped back against him. Heart slowly coming to stop, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

No last words from you were said.

Eren grabbed the bloody knife once again and kissed your unmoving lips one last time before slitting his own throat.

Even after death, he wouldn’t let you go.

©️aphroditedahlias2024

guys pls make sure you telling someone if you’re being abused or harassed so this doesn’t happen to you lololol. This is just a fic don’t ever let it get to this point.

[roe-and-memory]

UHMMM in your guy's pinned it says your ok with asks sooooooo

You guys should totally hand over all of your Lightning headcanons :3

HIHIHI IM SO SORRY ITS BEEN LIKE 4 DAYS

hi this is roe quick interruption

thats all ty

ok so…. a magician cannot reveal all of their secrets so ive picked a Select amount of our favourites because obviously we need some surprises,…. its still a LOT though so dont worry i wouldnt dare cut you cheap on our headcanons

if you guys want us to make a separate post on a specific one going into detail of the Lore behind it or just like, more detail in general, dont be afraid to comment and your wish is my command

HERE WE GO!!!

- “HE IS A DUMBASS AND I HATE HATE HIM” (roes words, affectionate)

- he is a liar, sometimes good sometimes bad (only when he wants to) and doc sees through All of it

- he has a walkman he’s had since he was little, he broke the headphones once and mack bought him new ones

- we’ve mentioned it before but he has vision light sensitivity issues

look at him. he cant see SHIT

- he grew up in henderson, nevada, every time a race came to vegas he walked FOUR HOURS to see it from outside the track (he lived an hour and a half from some of the only family that would ever love him in radiator springs EL OH EL!)

- hes a natural redhead but harv thought having him bleach his hair blonde would get him more attention so he did it because harv knows best! sally made him stop when he tried to do it after his roots took over and she was like erm no ! thats destroying your hair and ur curls. and him, not knowing much about his hair was like yeah sure ok

- he has Freckles. So Many. sally tells him he has stars and constellations on his cheeks and hes just giggling and kicking his feet

- also mentioned before he has a lanyard with keys and keychains on it that he carries everywhere hanging out of his pocket

- he has. Horribly. vivid nightmares. so he doesnt sleep much and when he does its always restless

- being a racecar driver he has MASTERED the ability to climb out of windows. he uses this ability to not only cause doc grief (he sleeps across the hall and hears everything), but also to sneak out in the middle of the night when hes restless and prance around in the field like a deer to make himself so sickeningly exhausted he passes out as soon as he lays down

- lightning and sally dance sometimes at the wheel well, neither of them are too good and he wants to practice for her - doc catches him in the living room poorly dancing to rascal flatts and doesnt let him live it down the entire rest of the day

- lightning runs away when hes 15, after walking 4 hours to vegas for a piston cup race he wanted to watch and then deciding he never wanted to go home — there was nothing there for him anyways. he had everything from home he wanted, which included his walkman and thats basically it

- (adding onto above) mack found him at a truck stop somewhere on an interstate asking for either money or a ride somewhere, and as an older brother of 5 little sisters who are his worlds, he saw him and immediately thought . if that was one of my siblings i would never forgive myself. and boom he has a new little brother and boom lightning has an older brother

- he knows how to operate a transport truck courtesy of mack

- he loves stickers, he always has, his walkman and an assortment of his other things are decorated in stickers

- lightning didnt have any friends in his rookie year, so when he has mater, doc, sally, cal, and bobby, he makes little random collages out of magazines and newspapers to keep them as memories

- he loves country music and HATES taylor swift (bobbys fault, bobby is a swiftie)

- doc has sunglasses that lightning finds in his garage, BURIED in a box, they have “hudson” engraved into the arm and he immediately takes them for himself because sometimes its Too sunny (doc when its sunny, he’s out enjoying a beer on the porch and his annoying boyfail son comes outside and stands expectantly awaiting his sunglasses in which he forks over hesitantly)

- crocs or converse there is no in between

- autism.

- he pulls on the threads of his clothing when hes excited or nervous

- talks with his hands, very expressive and he also kicks the ground sometimes for no reason

- he was never taught how to ride a bike. doc is slowly writing down a list of reasons he can KILL 👹 lightnings parents for being HORRIBLE ‼️‼️‼️

THATS ALL FOR NOW…. with time you will learn more but I HOPE YOU LIKE THESE ONES!!!

[daddyelliott1979]

Daddy and Boy; what's it like to have the other?

I really want these posts to set a standard, to be a window into our lives but also set a benchmark for what these relationships look like.

I want to start by sharing something from @squirtdaboi

Baby Riley

When my daddy asked me to write about what its like having a daddy i initially didn’t know what to write about. But after giving it some thought i have to say this.

Ive found myself being so much happier and its so nice having that crutch in my life. That one person that always there for me is so reassuring.

He makes me giggle, smile and blush all at the same time. He does these little things like playing with my hair and giving me tummy rubs when my tummy hurts.

The way he changes me is so fun!!!! He blows raspberries and puts cartoons on for me and he dosent care if i am stinky!! If anything he makes me blushy and encourages it! He helps me push my boundaries and be more confortable being myself around others!

He tucks me and my teddies in at night and he checks on me if i wake up. Oh!!! The other night he even changed me while i slept!!! Just knowing how gentle he was and the care he puts into our time makes everything so much better!

If I’m feeling anxious in public he makes sure I’m okay! He makes me squirm and get embarrassed but it doesn’t upset me, it makes me happy.

Bath times are great. I get to play and enjoy myself! Daddy pretends to hate when i splash him with water but i know he secretly loves it!

He makes me feel loved and happy and safe and when i go to see him i feel at ease and i can be tiny and not have a problem.

He also helps me with my ‘big feelings’ and is always there for me. He recently bought me 2 sets of earbuds to help with my sensory issues which he didn’t have to do!

He helps me figure out trains for coming to see him and we are currently looking at getting me a tablet too!

He’s so helpful and doesn’t mind listening to me talk about my problems and things that are going on. He lets me talk until I'm happy and then i can go right back to watching bluey.

He helps me push me to my limits when going out in public and lets me explore my way of doing things. He doesn’t force me to do anything at all. It’s honestly so nice.

I guess the main thing im trying to say is….

HE IS AMAZING!!!

Daddy's thoughts

Honestly reading that made me cry, I know this was a lot for him to do, but once again he proves he's such a sweet little boy and not the "bad" kid he's made out to be!

Here's what this boy means to me, in the short while that he's come into my life, he's turned it upside down in the best possible way!

His cheekiness makes it impossible not to smile, his smile makes it impossible to not feel happy, his whole face lights up as he barely contains his joy; and it's beautiful!

When he's here I have to stay close, and if I'm close he's got to snuggle, and I get moaned at if I don't. It's completely adorable!

He gets squirmy in public and tells me "shut up" emphasis on the "shuuuut uppp" hehe. It's adorable to watch!

He genuinely needs me in so many ways, so much that he makes me feel like a real Daddy, something I've not felt since my son was little.

The first time he said "I love you Daddy" made my heart melt, it came out of nowhere just as I was about to rush off to the corner shop for an emergency supply of wipes- he was very stinky and feeling very little.

He has the most adorable giggle, there's nothing better than giving him tickles!

He's not kidding about the splashes, I really do love how I end up wetter than him at bath time!

And at bed time I have to snuggle with him, he snuggles into my chest and stays there all night, sometimes I'm convinced he can't get close enough. The other day he turned around only to come back with my giant doggy stuffie, scooting in so I had to cuddle them both; and somehow he took up 3/4 of my bed and left me a sliver!

Honestly I love it when he comes, I hate it when he leaves; even though he's only 30 minutes away!

He's such a special boy, he's warm, he's kind, he's sweet and he's just a boy, who needs a Daddy to love, care and protect him! And I get to be that Daddy!

And that's freaking awesome!!

[myriadparacosm]

Black Beats Black - IV. Dentelle de la Reine Anne Part.2

Part 1. (Sorry Tumblr can't handle the size) Chapter I. - II. - III. Read on my AO3

“I could drop my pot of ink from here… it will kill him.”

Next to him, Evan leans a bit further into the window to squint down at the people crossing one of the castle’s bridges. It’s easy to spot Lupin walking with Evans and Pettigrew– just as natural for Regulus to slowly push off the edge of the window. He sits back down amongst the opened books and the brewing cauldron between them. They are in one of the highest towers to be left alone as it’s rarely used except for the hidden snogging, though with the cold no one wants to risk their tongues frozen together. Perfect for them to experiment and study in peace with no eavesdropping.

“Better use a cauldron, squish him like an insect,” he advises. “It’s difficult to piece a brain back together.”

Regulus glares at Lupin who escapes through one of the heavy doors before he can decide on the perfect murder. After reminiscing with Sirius and now that they have clarified everything that was needed - Regulus has prepared his share of the Animagus potion and even freed space in his potion’s pouch made to transport potion without shaking them. Despite Sirius and Barty’s night, Which-Must-Not-Be-Remembered, Evan is still friendly though he more than often likes to remind them that he is here if they even look at each other.

He coughs petals and grabs some to put them in their dedicated bag to use them for more experiments. Some flowers are also there and neither ever wilt.

“Do you know why Em’ is avoiding Sirius?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Emmeline hasn’t changed but she is staying away from Sirius outside from when they all hang out in the Room of Requirement. She doesn’t appear to hate him and he doubts that she has a problem helping him ever since their adventure to the Kelpie’s Dance. It’s been two weeks since that. Regulus still has the mandrake leaf in his mouth and they have managed to come up with a potion within days that should eliminate the poison and also hold the coughing for a few hours.

“She carries a torch for him.”

“What?” Regulus startles, looking up from the potion they are brewing. “Emmeline?”

“Not romantically,” Evan says, turning a page of the book, “this happened with all of us, don’t you remember?”

Whilst Regulus, Barty and Evan almost immediately hit off, which was followed by Dorcas helping them before Pandora dropped herself on their laps– Emmeline has only really been friends with them starting third year. She wasn’t alone as Slytherins tend to stay as tight groups and it’s by the clamorous lot of girls. Contrary to what most people thought, Emmeline was at the head of the group even if she appeared distanced if not absent. She watched them though but they only managed to get close when they started working on their first arithmancy project.

Emmeline kept offering Regulus to work on arithmancy together and she always seemed quite happy but it’s only when Pandora mentioned at random that maybe she has a crush on him; which would have make sense if Emmeline hasn’t started partnering with Evan during potion or gossiping with Barty and laughing at any of his joke even if at first the depraved ones surprised her. Dorcas sort of confronted her too, as she assumed that Emmeline had a crush on her because she always sat with her in the common room and complimented her works, and she gently let her down but Emmeline quickly corrected her that she has no interest. Pandora offered to kiss, just like that, but was also shot down, quite funnily from what she said but Emmeline refuses the story to be shared.

They quickly understood that Emmeline has what you might call ‘fall in friendship’. Though it’s not related to her own disinterest in love. Like for all of them, Emmeline appears intense once she is interested in someone but she only means it platonically, easily blushing only because she is happy. She is quite embarrassed about this part of her and she avoided them up until they dragged her back in their group.

“Oh. Right. I forgot that,” Regulus admits and automatically steers the potion. “Sirius?”

“Are you really surprised? Your brother is alright once he shuts his mouth.”

He rolls his eyes. “Please, don’t try to fool me. I know you two like to chit-chat about these rancid books.”

“I don’t!”

“Yes you do. Sirius is maybe a worse romantic than you but I have tried one of your books and I know you’re not that different,” he replies with a smile at his glare. “Pirates, uh?”

“Do I need to remind you that I’m the one deciding whether you two stay married?” Evan hisses with his cheeks red. “Or that the whole school would feast on that gossip if it ever got out?”

Sirius Black is already rumoured to either be a Gryffindor spy in Slytherin or a Slytherin King to be with Regulus. Better leave it aside that Evan obviously likes Sirius but only holds a grudge because Barty likes to say dumb things out loud.

“Well, I wouldn’t have thought that Emmeline would like my brother that much.” Any of his friends really. “So she is avoiding him now.”

“You know how she is,” Evan says. “She is probably trying to be discreet about it considering how Sirius might think the same as us.”

“Him and his fat ego certainly will take it that way.”

Sirius actually doesn’t make the connection. He asks Regulus if Emmeline has tons of homework or started a painting that took up most of her time since he has barely talked to her; she often finds an excuse to leave when their number diminishes. That’s the only reason why Regulus decides to talk to Emmeline. Sirius might ask her what’s wrong and who knows how that will go.

The Slytherin dorm isn’t openly hostile to them but many people look at them with a wary look. Snape or his minions haven’t tried anything on them yet but who knows how stupid they can be even at their lowest. Sirius, often if not always, lets his door appear so they have started to mingle in the Room of Requirement instead; it probably doesn’t help with their reputation.

“Are you free Em’?”

Emmeline moves her eyes away from her new painting to greet Regulus with a smile. “Of course. Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.”

It was still an abandoned classroom up until Emmeline started her art club during fourth year. They have all helped her clean it even if it was just a small wand movement. Regulus has almost considered practising the piano or even ballet, which he has liked to do even if it’s their parents hammering them into them but they have stopped once they got to Hogwarts. The upcoming war is more important. Sirius also got these classes but preferred to draw, which is considered as a meaningless skill compared to music.

“What are you painting?”

“Just… my current inspiration.”

They are alone for now and Emmeline is the most frequent one, even getting detention because she left the club in the middle of the night. The painting is still at its early stage but Regulus can recognize a tower next to what appears to be water. The shades are for most, dark and icy, for now.

“Do you mean Sirius?”

Emmeline’s brush is squashed on the painting before she quickly withdraws it. She stares at the smudge of black before clearing her throat.

“I can salvage this later…” She trails off, putting down her tools, with red cheeks.

“He has only noticed that you are busy, perhaps avoiding him,” Regulus reassures and holds back his amused smile when she looks at him, embarrassed. He sits down on the ottoman. “You’re making a portrait of my brother?”

She nods before brushing her dark hair behind her ears. “I showed him yours and he quite liked it. And he agreed to let me paint one of him. I hope to finish it– soon.”

“It looks like a good start.”

Regulus knows the basics of arts but it has never called him more like Sirius. It’s definitely going to be pretty anyhow considering that Emmeline is the one painting; though how she pictures Sirius is still a bit of a mystery as all the colours are so far leaning toward dark.

“Is it obvious?”

“To us, yes,” Regulus admits. “Though I never thought that you would like Sirius that much.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” She mutters, rubbing her bottom lip with her teeth.

Regulus frowns, slightly surprised that she seems to feel embarrassed or for him to have a real problem with that. He isn’t jealous, to his own surprise, and if anything he is elated that all his favourite people have accepted each other further than appearance. If Emmeline actually liked Sirius then it would be sad for her considering that his brother is spoken to, to death. Regulus wishes Sirius would fall in love with someone else as wonderful as Emmeline and not a stupid jerk.

“No. Of course not,” he says. “I can actually understand how you two would get along. Sirius can act as rebellious as he wants but I know he isn’t as disattached to what we were taught. He loved the violin but only when he could play what he enjoyed so he was awful with our personal professor. I’m– I wish he didn’t throw all our childhood away but I know it was harder for him than for me.”

“Now that you two are talking, you will make many more good memories and perhaps it will help Sirius too,” she says with a small thoughtful smile. “The violin, though..? That’s interesting.”

“You wouldn’t think so, right? I don’t know if he completely forgot about it or not.” She nods but it hasn’t cleared her spirit completely so Regulus considers his next words. “Sirius isn’t the type to lie, even though he perfectly can. So I didn’t think– that everything would go as smoothly as it is now. Sirius could have been awfully difficult to deal with. With the circumstances and what happened with his friends, I doubt Sirius has the strength to play nice with anyone. If you all hated him or didn’t give him a chance, he would think he deserves it.”

“I find this unnecessarily sad,” she admits.

“But that’s exactly why I’m sure that Sirius sees you as a friend, just like you do.”

Emmeline nods and tilts her head before closing her eyes. “I feel like I’m already mourning him… I can’t imagine what you must feel,” she whispers. “I have barely gotten to know him and yet it’s so easy. I’m scared that– all of this attention will feel unwarranted to him but I also don’t want to regret him when I have barely even known him.”

Regulus swallows down and takes a deep breath before opting to ignore the heavy subject. “You do sound like you have a crush on him.”

“A friendly one,” she argues with flushed cheeks. “We have already settled on that, haven’t we? Friends! I do not-”

“I’m only teasing you,” he chuckles and she purses her lips with a menacing squint. “It’s rather cute.”

“I just hope that Sirius doesn’t assume that either. You all understood me but what if he finds it weird that I don’t… care for a lover. I do not want to bring that up considering his position.”

“He will understand it,” Regulus says without a doubt. “I’m sure that either way it will feed his ego, even if he doesn’t need it, and make him happy. He might tease a tad bit.”

Emmeline sighs. “But isn’t Marlene McKinnon his closest friend, outside of his dormmates? I’m nothing like her… Or any of his original friends. None of us are. Wouldn’t he find it weird that someone like me wants to be– close friends when only a few weeks he never knew me?”

“You do not plan to steal McKinnon’s spot or anyone else, do you? Then you shouldn’t worry about that. I still doubt that Sirius’ old friends will ever try to talk to him.”

“Didn’t you say that Potter wants to talk with Sirius?”

“He is only pestering me because he is scared that Sirius will talk about whatever secret broke their little group,” he argues. “Maybe he really is avoiding Potter but Lupin will be nearby and who knows how that will affect Sirius so it’s better to forget about him.”

“But he hasn’t told you, right?”

“No. I doubt he will.”

Emmeline sighs. “This is so unfortunately complicated.”

He watches her, offering a hand that she squeezes with a shy gaze. “Are you worried that Sirius won’t be happy that you want to be friends with him? From what I have seen, I should be jealous of how you two get lost in conversation while I’m right there.”

“Oh, Reg-”

“So I can assure you that he values you. Pandora always surprises him and he enjoys this kind of game, just like Barty who I worry might start an enormous prank with him that will close the school.” She chuckles and he smiles. “Evan was more difficult because-”

“Barty also didn’t help.”

“When has he helped willingly?” He snorts. “But thankfully they found some common ground. Even our Purebloods upbringing, being above each other and how backwards our supposed evolved society works— they talk without attacking each other and I noticed that despite the subject they are somehow giving each other hope too.”

“Every empire falls at some point,” she whispers and squeezes his hand.

He nods. “Dorcas is more similar to Sirius I suppose, they match each other and I can see that they are having fun. You were here at the Kelpie’s Dance, they were in their own little world. I guess McKinnon is also more of this type but this doesn’t mean that Sirius can’t see you as a proper friend. Salazar, Barty and him get along which doesn’t terrify me enough so please be the best of friends just so Sirius doesn’t end up in Azkaban.”

Emmeline considers it with a frown before nodding. “They would.”

“But really, you should just tell Sirius that you really like him,” Regulus says. “We are all friends with you and I doubt that he will find it weird that you have no interest in love, if you want to specify it.”

“I think so too… But it’s so strange for some people.” She purses her lips before clearing her throat. “Friends satisfy me and I don’t see why I should marry anyone. I love all of you. I made the mistake of mentioning it before and the looks they gave me.”

“Who?”

She shakes her head. “It’s alright, I dealt with it in third year. But you’re right, I should talk to Sirius.”

“He misses you.”

Emmeline blushes with a chuckle. Regulus smiles and squeezes her hand one last time. He doesn’t know how this conversation went but he is sure that it happened since Sirius commented out of nowhere that Regulus picked the right friends. He doesn’t have anything to complain about so he focuses back on his heavy old latin reading that might concern the Hanahaki. It has become a kind of ritual that Regulus sleepovers - not because of the list.

They manage to come up with one potion that should kill the Hanahaki but Sirius only got a stomach ache from it. His coughing hasn’t increased despite what happened when he hallucinated but it’s still here. Regulus isn’t sure but he feels like more petals are coming up in his throat, building up for his series of coughs. It’s relieving and a bad omen since it means that the bond is working but the Hanahaki fights back.

Only one week left before they take the Hogwarts Express for the short, yet determinant, break. His parents answered to his insignificant letter, only meant for Kreacher to get his message, only to talk about what Regulus should do and some meaningful comments about his upcoming destiny. The war might be close but he doesn't care about it - not when Sirius is right here. Once his brother is healed then perhaps he will care about this blasted mess.

It’s probably because they are this close to this dangerous jump into the future that Regulus is too distracted to shield himself from a sudden explosion. He was just about to join Sirius for dinner in the Room of Requirement when he finds himself glued to a liquid that keeps bubbling from a knight’s armour that fell to pieces.

“Hah! Got you!”

Filch rounds the corner, finding Regulus' knees deep into the sticky mixture and trying to shake it off his hands, with James Putain de Potter.

“Oh, Reg’,” he says with the fakest worry ever, “I told you to be careful with these potions.”

Regulus is going to make him his glasses the moment he gets a chance– but first he cursed him as loudly as he can before he needed to justify that he wasn’t some part of this stupid prank.

“Then what is that?” Filch asks with a mean smile, taking out a small potion from where Regulus’ bag spilled when he fell. “This looks exactly like what Mister Potter had.” Potter winks at Regulus with an impish smile. Filch doesn’t hear him despite the many complaints. Regulus has no idea how he slipped that potion in his bag, he couldn’t have thrown it or one of them would have noticed, plus with the explosion it should have been triggered. His bag is the safest option but he would have noticed Potter slipping behind him.

He gets detention with Potter - because apparently Regulus doesn’t have enough on his plate. Because the break is nearing, the detention is barely the day after so Regulus has digested nothing which leaves him in a horrible mood. With Fitch on his ass, he was sent back to the Slytherin dormitory which meant that he didn’t even see Sirius. Not that he wants his brother to hear about this especially when his friends are teasing him enough about Potter.

It’s in Care of Magical Creatures that they need to do the detention and Regulus is late on purpose even if he really likes the class and Professor Kettleburn. His parents had complained that he picked this course but Regulus enjoys it too much to drop it off. It’s cold so he hopes that whatever they have to do will be quick because this only diminishes his patience to deal with Potter.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“I will cut your tongue and feed it to a hippogriff.”

“Now what an inspiration!” Kettleburn exclaims as Regulus glares at Potter. “But this time we only need to rework the paddocks and prepare portions to feed all our magnificent friends. Mister Black, can you guide our new guest? I need to check on the unicorns.”

“Of course, Professor.”

He lists the creatures they need to check also on or will require immediate feeding before wandering off in the forest. Regulus decides to finish this list as fast as he can and then feed Potter to the hippogriffs; the head of the pack likes him, even got to pet him once, so he can indulge his favour.

“I didn’t know you liked this class,” Potter says with quick steps to follow him.

“Don’t talk to him.”

“It’s great, really,” he chirps with a small laugh. “You always surprise m-”

“Shut up,” Regulus barks, twisting on his feet to face him with a burning glare. “You bloody planned this, didn’t you? You better back off because I know a lot of creatures ready to eat you alive.”

Potter still follows him in the shed, diligently picking up what Regulus does before he walks out. “I told you that I needed to speak to you!” He points out. “You left me no choice.”

“I understand why Sirius is avoiding you now,” he huffs out, dropping the bag of cabbages for the flobberworm before throwing some in the group. “Don’t put that here! It’s for the streelers!” Potter does as he says, even if Regulus’ tone is as sharp as a whip, and somehow manages to keep his smile on. It goes like that for a moment but he has never been infamous for keeping his mouth shut.

“Look Regulus, I’m sorry that I pulled off but you really left me no choice,” Potter says, sounding almost sorry which is why Regulus dropped a large box on his foot. “Ouch! What was that for?!”

“Didn’t see you. It was in the way of the hay.”

Potter sighs but continues to follow him through all the tasks. “I tried to talk to you politely so you really left me no choice but force you in the same spot with me for a time, alright?”

“You could have left me alone instead of being your idiotic self.”

“I can’t figure out where you’re hiding with Sirius but he also doesn’t want to talk to me and I really need to.”

“Write him a letter. We need something for the fire-place.”

Regulus tries to elbow him when his arm is grabbed but Potter quickly traps him against the crups’ fence.

“Regulus, I’m trying to solve what happened with Sirius, alright?”

“Let me go.”

One of the crups is tugging on his pant’s leg. Potter stares at him, lips pursed, before straightening himself and taking a step closer. Regulus considers climbing over the fence because rolling in a sea of crups would be better than whatever is going on.

“You have no idea how happy I am that you and Sirius are talking again,” Potter says. “I wish I had been here to see that but– things were difficult. We never meant to kick him out of the dorm and we could have talked to him but… It was hard on Remus.”

“And I’m supposed to feel bad for you all?” Regulus sneers.

“No,” he replies before wetting his lips. “Well, maybe. What happened was really difficult to understand because I frankly still can’t believe it and I should have been here for Sirius too. That’s my bad.”

“Oh really? Almost made me think otherwise.”

Potter huffs out, almost laughing and his face doesn’t fully lose it as he observes Regulus. There is a smudge on his left glass that he probably could clean. If he starts considering what he can touch though there are many other options that are far more entertaining.

“I’m trying to solve what happened,” Potter whispers as his eyes drop to the ground. “We all got hurt and I didn’t try to reach out for Sirius. Which is what I’m trying to do now because we haven’t really listened to him… Marlene is going bonkers too because Sirius avoids her too. Even Remus is open to talk.”

He quickly closes his eyes and swallows these treacherous ideas. Potter is an enemy, no matter how he looks, the amount of warmth he exudes like a salamander. This is a dangerous trap. Regulus pushes him off as far as he can before shoving him so he lets go of his arm

“Like I said,” he articulates with a precarious voice. “Write a letter.”

Potter lets him storm off but shadows him quickly and even takes the bag of fresh meat from his hands. “I get it that you are on Sirius’ side Reggie-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“But everything went so fast. Remus needed time.”

“So what?!” He exclaims. “It’s not my problem what happened! And you’re right, I’m on Sirius’ side. At least I know better than to throw him away like some forgotten toy that you have no use for anymore!”

“That’s what I’m trying to solve!”

“Yes, well maybe Sirius isn’t open to that anymore,” he hisses and furiously picks up hay before stomping away.

“He can’t just stay out of the dorm!” Potter says and pursues him. “I know you haven’t slipped him in the Slytherin dorm even if with your frie-”

Regulus needs to clear his throat because his voice is muddled. “Because the problem is now me and my friends and not yours?!”

He startles, stepping back, with wide eyes behind his glasses. “Wait, that’s not what I meant-”

“Of course that’s what you meant! Sirius is choosing to be with me right now and you can’t swallow that because you think you’re better than us, the screw-ups!”

Potter almost steps back, shaking his head, with a weak retort. “That’s not-”

“That’s exactly what you think,” Regulus spits out despite the rash climbing up his throat. “You are all better in your red and gold better than us little snakes, right? This must kill you to see that Sirius is staying with us. In fact he chooses to be with me! Have you ever thought that he just doesn’t want to talk to you again? Of course not, what matters is what everyone else thinks! Lupin is hurt? Well Sirius too but apparently that’s not important.”

“I never thought that! This was hard for everyone,” Potter argues. “I even tried to tell Sirius to talk to you before! I know you’re not like Snivellus-”

Regulus coughs. He forgets about it for a moment too busy wrestling with his thoughts and emotions, picturing how far he can throw James Potter in the lake, and how his brother is dying while all they care about is some stupid secret. Except that Potter notices his cough, eyes trailing after the petals trickling down his lips, and gasps with a shock that only stains his handsome face.

“Petals?”

Regulus quickly steps back, hand flying to his mouth, but Potter follows him like a mad man. His words are swallowed by more coughs. He shakes his head and stumbles on his own feet before focusing on getting away.

“Are you coughing flowers?” Potter croaks out, voice louder at each syllable. “Wait, isn’t that– that’s the Hanahaki!”

Potter still calls him when Regulus is rushing to the castle, coughing petals. He sprints through the corridors with his heart trying to burst out of his chest - it doesn’t help the petals that he tries to swallow. His first proper breath is only when he manages to close the door of his dorm behind him.

“Reg’! Are you alright?” Emmeline asks, standing up from her game of chess with Barty.

Evan looks up from Barty’s laps, frowning and sitting up. “Didn’t you have detention?”

“A date with Potter,” Barty jokes, moving a chess piece.

“He knows.”

“Who? What?” Emmeline frowns. “Please breathe before you faint.”

“Potter!” Regulus hisses, throwing his bag down. “I coughed!”

She gasps. “He saw?”

“Yes! He even knew that it was the Hanahaki!”

“Did you try to tell him it’s not?” Evan asks. “You could have gotten that from something else.”

Regulus freezes before groaning, falling against the door. “I–”

“You ran away?” Barty supposes. “Well that’s compromising.”

“Maybe we can come up with something,” Emmeline retorts. “The after-effect of a potion or-”

“Potter is smarter than he looks,” Regulus hisses. “I should have knocked him out or obliviated him… I could still do that.”

“Is that so bad if he knows?” Barty asks. “It’s not like he knows that you are actually bonded with Sirius who has it.”

His focus has been bitingly settled on James Potter and his infuriating face which is why he completely missed out on his throat twisting around a mouthful before he starts coughing. Regulus doesn’t consider that he has the Hanahaki– Sirius does and Regulus tries to find the cure.

“Merde,” he curses and furiously shakes his bangs with his hands before glaring at the discreet golden ring. “I didn’t think of that. He doesn’t know about the bonding.”

“You don’t think of much around Potter, actually become stupid once we mention him.”

“Like you’re any better Bartemius!” Regulus snaps.

“I am,” he proudly replies, “did you see who is on my lap?”

“Alright,” Evan cuts and lets Barty kiss his cheek. “So Potter might think you have the Hanahaki. What were you talking about?”

“He was pestering me about Sirius. Even dared to complain that Sirius is with us now.”

“Hah! He is going to think you are in love with Sirius!”

Emmeline slaps Barty’s head. “Not funny,” she chastens.

“Wait, Potter is still trying to talk to Sirius?” Evan asks.

“He is trying to make me feel sorry for them.”

“Well, I’m not picking his side but it might be a good thing for Sirius.”

“What?” Emmeline says with a frown. “Are you saying Sirius should go back to his friends?”

“No.”

Evan raises his hand but it doesn’t help Regulus’ scathing mood. “Look, perhaps his friends have decided to forgive him or whatever. But Sirius’ Hanahaki could be slowed down if he and Lupin talk again.”

“It won’t happen,” Regulus argues, crossing his arms. “Lupin rejected Sirius one way or another and I’m confident that it’s closely related to this ugly bastard in the first place.”

“I’m not saying that it will solve the Hanahaki,” Evan says and stands up. “We all looked through enough to know that the curse won’t disappear like that. Some people actually died even when the feelings were requited.”

“Really?” Barty frowns. “Is it stupid?”

“It’s hard to satisfy. If you don’t believe that they really love you back then in a way you’re also telling that to the flowers,” he explains.

“That’s why they can’t know that Sirius has the Hanahaki,” Regulus reminds. “Lupin will probably try to be all sorry for himself and try to save Sirius but there is no way that it will work. Potter might piece it together if he knows that Sirius has the Hanahaki.”

“It’s too risky,” Emmeline agrees, eyes jumping to the ground before she grimaces and looks up. “Actually,” she whispers with a sorry smile, “I think Lupin and Sirius already talked.”

“What?!” He hisses. “How did I not know that?”

“Because I’m not sure.”

“If he rejected Sirius another time he would probably be dead,” Barty points out.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t come to watch the Quidditch game, remember? And I crossed the path of Lupin with Pettigrew, looking like they were heading there,” she explains. “But they seemed to be arguing, though I’m not sure about what but Lupin seemed mad.”

Regulus squints at her and needs to focus to relax his jaw before he breaks a tooth. “And?”

Emmeline twitches with guilt and joins her hands nervously. “Well I thought I might check on Sirius, considering that he would probably not want to watch the game with everything going on… I found him choking in a corridor.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Reg’ calm down,” Evan quickly says and steps in. “Sirius was fine after, right?”

Emmeline quickly nods. “Yes! It wasn’t– it wasn’t as bad like at the pub, I promise Regulus… I cleared his lungs so he could breathe again but he was dead tired so I brought him to his room.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?” He hisses. “Why didn’t you!”

“Because I didn’t want to stress you more!” She exclaims. “Maybe Sirius would tell you, I didn’t know.”

Barty clears his throat. “The point is that it could have only been triggered by Lupin, right?”

Regulus clenches his fists and looks at her. “Did he talk to Sirius?”

“I’m not sure. But they could have easily crossed paths,” she admits. “Sirius probably won’t tell.”

“Well, that clears this up,” Barty says, lounging in the bed with crossed legs. “Sirius’ friends knowing about the Hanahaki will make Lupin try to save him, if he doesn’t want him dead.”

“Even if Lupin loves him back… If he confesses to save Sirius then his feelings won’t be seen as honest for the Hanahaki, we have proof of that over history.”

Evan sighs. “Right. I didn’t consider that.”

“That’s exactly why I’m not going to help Potter talk to Sirius,” Regulus says. “Lupin rejected him once already and I’m not risking my brother’s life just for the chance that they might make up. Even if they did, if Lupin doesn’t love Sirius back and tells him then he will still die.”

“Regulus… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Emmeline says.

He tries to not glare at her, forcing himself to look down. “Don’t do it again. Please,” he clips before taking a deep breath. “Well, now I have to deal with noisy Potter. Better that he thinks I have the Hanahaki.”

“Tell him it’s me.”

“What?” Evan spins to Barty and his wide grin. “What are you saying?”

“In case Potter pesters you about it and come on, it’s obvious he will, if you need to be in an unrequited love with someone let it be me.”

Regulus deadpans at him. “Why on Earth would I fall in love with you?”

“Hey! Who cares about that detail?”

“Fiore mio,” he purrs and Regulus gags out. “Picture Potter trying to help Reggie, especially because you’re Sirius’ brother, he will try to figure out a solution. If he comes mad at me then I will have a free shot at punching him.”

Regulus sighs out, stomping into the bathroom because he needs a change of clothes, and Emmeline pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Of course that’s why you want to do that.” She sighs. “We aren’t sure that Potter will try anything, if we are lucky he might not jump to the conclusion that Regulus actually has the Hanahaki.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second,” Evan blurts out. “I actually want to see Barty punch Potter.”

“You’re no help!”

“None of you are helping,” Regulus snaps. “And Potter can go to hell! He isn’t going near me any time soon.”

“Except in your dreams,” Barty sings out but he is cut by a slap.

“Sirius doesn’t need him, none of them. He can try to pester me again but this time I will make him mute for the rest of his life.” Regulus growls before taking a deep breath, walking out of the bathroom once he finished putting on clothes for the evening. “I’m going to see Sirius now. We have plans.”

“Wait, Re-”

He walks out of the dorm without listening to Emmeline. It’s his second mistake. First, he froze at the Kelpie’s Dance instead of helping Sirius and now he obviously indulged in speaking to Potter which is why his brain completely left him helpless out there. The advantage of him and Sirius not talking was that at least Regulus was free of any Potter’s presence and shenanigans.

If only his stupid heart could be smarter than this. First year he was too young to understand that liking James Potter and his sunny laugh, charming eyes that can’t see beyond his nose and charisma like some kind of stupid golden god. Eleven year old Regulus was a fool and he wouldn’t want to slap him but apparently his younger self just had to be enamoured enough that he can’t be moved on. Regulus would throw himself down some stairs to put some sense into his treacherous heart but now he needs to cure Sirius’ stupid weeping heart.

Sirius still doesn’t tell him the full story. Regulus lets it go only because it’s a full moon, which means that they need to prepare the animagus potion and they have to do it tonight. His brother assuredly leads them out of the castle, showing him even more secret passage and promising at least a hundred more, as they head out for the Forbidden Forest for the potion preparation. They are lucky that there are no clouds, otherwise they would need to wait another month, but somehow Sirius doesn’t bear looking at the full-moon.

Regulus can see that he seems sad, quite anxious, as he leads them almost at the opposite of the more visited parts of the Forbidden Forest. He even jumps when he hears a distant howl and Regulus would have joked if he is scared of werewolves, as if there would be one around Hogwarts, if it wasn’t for his pale face. Sirius insists that he is fine, only cold and itching to get back to bed, so they hurry.

His brother places the phial under a perfect moon ray once they find a dew untouched by human or sunlight that they fill in a silver teaspoon. Regulus spits the mandrake leaf into the phial, grimacing at the after taste and finally freed from the rough texture against his inside cheek, before putting one strand of hair and the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth.

“Are you sure that your bag won’t move it?”

“Sirius, I know my bag,” he replies. “It’s perfect and completely stable, it’s made to keep potions.”

The phial is immediately sealed and slipped in his potion pouch, charmed to keep the potions safe and sound without any feeling of the outside - be it movement, light and temperature. The perfect tool to prepare potions as needy as this one.

“Alright, let’s hurry up to the castle.”

“Do you have something else to do?” Regulus asks with a frown as his brother hurries off. “Sirius!”

“Sh!” He hisses and turns around. “Whisper.”

“Then reply to me,” he huffs out, joining his steps thanks to Sirius slowing down before speeding up.

“I just want to get back to the castle because it’s freezing.”

With Sirius’ jumpy behaviour and his lack of enthusiasm, it’s probably a lie. Regulus fears that he forced him to be at his side; after all, he could easily prepare the animagus potion by himself. To be honest, he probably would have never been interested in becoming an Animagus before that. Not that it’s a useless skill, if anything it’s quite brilliant and could be useful, but it never crossed Regulus’ mind. Sirius showing him Padfoot, proudly and quite playfully, made him realise that it’s worth the try. This would give them a connection, even if he is convinced that the Marauders are all animagi, but Sirius helping him is special and whether or not they find a cure then Regulus will hold on that memory alone.

“Sirius, talk to me,” he says, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice, as he takes a hold of Sirius’ arm to force him to slow down and look at him. “Are you scared of something?”

A long faraway howl echoes through the night. It seems sad, lonely even, which is why it shouldn’t make Sirius startled and aghast. He looks around like he might spot the wolf, before fiercely dragging Regulus behind him.

“Yes. I am.”

He tries to follow his speed but he is still confused. “Why? You are the one who told me that you know the Forbidden Forest! You convinced me!”

“I’m not scared of that!”

“Sirius-”

“I just want to sleep, alright?!” He snaps but his voice isn’t there, only quiet and whiny. “Just… Let’s go back. Hopefully we will still be lucky and storms will come soon so you can finish the whole process.”

He doesn’t push it. Sirius stays wordless up until they are in the Room of Requirement before finally babbling out about the rest of the process, mentioning that it’s a pain to wake up at dawn to cast the spell and that he almost missed it a few times. Regulus can see that he is nervous or stressed so he lets him do it, answering at the right times and following with questions to help distract him.

The Hogwarts Express pulls up at the train station on a rainy day. It’s not a storm and Regulus is a bit disappointed. He has no inkling about his animagus form whereas Sirius showed off that he dreamt of a dog on the first night. Regulus is convinced that the dog attacked or at least pursued him in his dream. He feels weary but tries to keep himself upright.

The only flaw in his secret message with Kreacher is that the elf doesn’t have a way to write back. He manages to read the code even if the letter is in his parents’ hands but their replies are always sealed by them; Kreacher has never opened them probably because it would be noticed. Once they reach the 9¾ platform, they will go to the bathroom and hopefully Kreacher will wait for them there with some of their affairs. If he isn’t there then they will simply apparate with Alphard’s pocket watch, which will be triggered at 3:05pm. Their uncle probably left this small window so they can say goodbyes to their friends.

There is only Dorcas and Emmeline with them. It’s a short break which makes it quite peaceful. Most people wouldn’t bother to make the trip back but when you have controlling parents like Emmeline, or doting ones if you’re lucky like Dorcas, then you will take the train. Apparently Potter and Lupin fall in that category. The latter looks dreadful even behind his blank face, eyes quietly shifting toward Regulus, his brother and friends, and the book open in his hands appears useless considering he hasn’t flipped one single page ever since they arrived there.

Potter has a lack of manner compared to him. He has been painfully obvious in his stalking. As if staring and moving his face around is a way of communication. Regulus thankfully has his friends around him so Potter stayed back but he often caught him watching. It’s annoying, especially since he appears worried, but he sticks to his initial plan to keep him away as much as possible. From him and Sirius likewise.

His brother isn’t as impassible as he wants to be about them so he keeps his eyes on Dorcas or Emmeline, chatting about the simplest thing. Regulus is up to the task to glare at Potter with the hope that it will push him under the rail of the train. McKinnon joins them a bit late, rushing through the rain with a few curses and pushing herself under their shared umbrella. When she spots Sirius, she seems ready to go see them - slightly furious - and Potter looks like he will follow but the Hogwarts Express arrives right on time.

On the ride back, they picked a compartment for themselves. Regulus closes the door magically just in case a parasite, like James Potter, tries to burst in. He wouldn’t put it past them and he only remembers now that Sirius was supposed to run away with James at first - whether that’s why he tries to talk to his brother or not.

Regulus is woken up by Emmeline, who smiles at him, whilst Dorcas tries to hold back her laugh.

“We’re here,” she says with a quiet voice. “Better leave the train as soon as you can, right?”

“Right,” he croaks out, voice hoarse, as he sits up and startles when Sirius falls on his laps, snoring.

“He drooled on you,” Dorcas snickers and points on his shoulder. “But we didn’t want to separate you two.”

“Urgh.”

Regulus slaps his cheek until Sirius tries to fight back. “Get up you lazy arse, we’re there. And I will drop you here.”

“Tu es chiant,” he groans, sitting up before grunting when Regulus throws his luggage in his laps. “Hey!”

“I said hurry!”

“Fine! You better run before I kick your arse!” Sirius barks.

“Wait!” Emmeline shouts.

Dorcas freezes and lets go of the door handle. “What?” She asks, turning to look at her. “What is it?”

“Your mother,” she blurts out. “She’s here!”

“What?” Sirius hurries to the window but Dorcas stops him.

“She might see you through the window!”

Regulus swallows. “Are… Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure,” Emmeline confirms with a voice clean of emotions. “She is alone.”

“Bloody hell, what is she doing here?!” Sirius exclaims.

“Calm down,” Dorcas says. “You can outrun her, I will distract her or something?”

“Why is she here?” Regulus repeats. “I didn’t tell them anything. How could she know–”

“Dorcas is right, you ought to run before she notices you. At what time is the portkey?”

Sirius flips out the pocket watch from his pocket, opening it. “At 3:05. It started ticking now that it’s 3.”

“Alright, let’s just walk as far as we can. You get through the barrier and rush to the toilets at King’s Cross,” she says with confidence. “She might not spot you in the crowd.”

Regulus gasps when he feels himself shaken. Sirius is at his side, hand around his arm, with a concerned frown. Something must be written on his face because he purses his lips with a tortured smile.

“Reggie, if you don’t want-”

“What? I’m going,” he snaps, grabbing his luggage, “we’re going.”

“Re-”

“We need to go. I’m sure Kreacher is going to be here,” he quickly says and yanks the door open.

James Potter blinks down at him, face twitching with a tensed smile. “Oh-”

Sirius coughs harshly behind Regulus who immediately straightens up when he spots Lupin at Potter’s side, probably looking at Sirius. It’s oblivious they were waiting for them

“Back off!” Dorcas snaps and pushes them to shove right into Potter.

He falls into Lupin who tries to not fall but still hits the person behind them. The corridor is already full of students trying to go out, not as many as usual, but it’s enough for it to be crowded and for Dorcas to spread chaos through it as she keeps pushing them back.

“Go,” Emmeline insists and pushes them out of the compartment.

Potter tries to fight back, though with less conviction compared to her aura, and even calls for Sirius and Regulus between his attempts at pleading Dorcas to let him pass. Regulus drags Sirius by his hand, rushing through the corridor and pushing people away as he tries to calculate which exit out of the train is the best for them; the closest to the barrier to leave the 9 3⁄4 platform and escape their mother.

A lot of people curse at them when they push through but he gives them no attention. They have changed three wagons already and he thinks the next exit is the right one for them. Sirius is behind him but Emmeline might have stayed with Dorcas to stop at least these two parasites.

“Hey!” A student squeals when Regulus barrels out of the train with Sirius. “Careful!”

He catches his breath once they are mingling in a small crowd of students and parents. “Do you have everything?”

Sirius nods and opens the pocket watch before slipping back inside. “We got four minutes.”

“The toilets are not far once we get through the barrier.”

“Are you sure Kreacher will be here?”

“Hopefu-”

“Regulus Arcturus Black!!”

His heart plummets. A brisk cold smothers his whole body and he feels like he is falling but he is held.

“Putain de merde,” Sirius swears and pulls him back.

Walburga Black strides furiously through the crowd with her eyes hateful and burning like a vicious Crucio.

“And you,” she growls, louder than the brouhaha and shrieker than any happy squeals. “Sirius Orion Black!”

“Run,” his brother says and tugs him. “Reggie, run!”

Sirius yanks him and almost makes him fall but Regulus manages to find his footing as they run toward the barrier. Their mother screams at them and her heels clink stronger than before, perhaps even crushing the stone, but his brother doesn’t let go of his hand as he speeds up.

“Padfoot!”

Regulus looks behind to see James Potter rushing to them too with a quick panicked look at their mother. Sirius only pulls on his hand harder.

“Come back here immediately!” Walburga screams.

They are close to the barrier, only needing one last desperate dash to reach it. The guard just deemed the passage safe to traverse for the next student to go through without getting Muggle’s attention.

“Oh Merlin!”

A rough crash cuts through the air, distracting everyone from their initial focus. Sirius slows down just a tad to look behind his shoulder. He completely stops with a wide ecstatic smile. Regulus turns to look and freezes too.

Their mother is lying on the floor next to a toppled cart with two big luggages. She is still alive but clearly in pain, it’s not enough to distract her as she immediately tries to sit up with a deadly hiss and glare at Emmeline.

“Salazar,” Regulus gasps out.

“My apologies!” Emmeline shouts with a panicked voice, hands in front of her mouth, as her parents run to her spitting alarmed apologies. “I’m so sorry Madam! I didn’t see you!”

Sirius blurts out her laughing and tugs Regulus before he can follow. The guard is still in surprise but he notices their duo rushing toward them. He doesn’t manage to stop them even shouting at them but Sirius jumps straight into the barrier with Regulus still in his hand.

They don’t stop even if the landing is a bit clumsy. The toilets are not a completely safe destination considering the Muggles around but they still burst in it, out of breath. Regulus glances around, throat dry and clumped with all the events. The door closes behind them and Kreacher appears with two big luggage.

“Master Regulus. Master Sirius.”

“Kreacher! Thank Salazar,” Regulus says and crouches with a trembling smile. “Thank you so much-”

“Kreacher got Master’s message,” he articulates with a vicious glance at Sirius before looking at Regulus. “Kreacher gathered all Masters’ affairs in secret but Kreacher doesn’t understand where Masters are going.”

“Oh Kreacher-”

“2 minutes Reggie,” Sirius whispers.

“Kreacher I’m sorry, we need to go and I won’t be able to write to you again.”

Kreacher slowly blinks, looking down at the luggages. “Kreacher doesn’t understand.”

Regulus can’t help but hug him. The house-elf has always been his first and most precious friend. It’s probably why Sirius never handled living at Grimmauld Place - he had no allies whilst Regulus at least had Kreacher.

“I will miss you and I will try to see you again, alright?” He says, taking a good look at the confused face of the elf. “It’s not safe for me and Sirius to go back there-”

“Did you tell our mother that we were here?” Sirius asks, tone sharp. “Answer Kreacher.”

“Sirius!”

“Master Sirius is mistaken. Kreacher left Grimmauld Place without telling anything or even to Mistress Walburga.”

“Kreacher would have not told her,” Regulus hisses.

Sirius rolls his eyes, taking out the pocket watch, and turns his back to them. Regulus can discern the ticking and quickly takes out from his coat’s pocket a worn-out white tissue with messy embroideries and stubborn but clean stains.

“Master Regulus?”

“A gift for you Kreacher,” he whispers and forces it into one of his hands.

Kreacher looks at it, panicked, and tries to pull away. “This is Master Regulus’ old handkerchief!”

“Yes and now this makes you free.” Regulus nods. “Do you understand? Kreacher I’m freeing you.”

“Kreacher wants to stay at Grimmauld Place! Kreacher loves serving the Noble and Ancient B-”

“Kreacher,” he raises his voice. “Listen to me! In case you want to go somewhere else, you can from now on.”

He can see that the elf has trouble understanding what is happening. It’s a lot since he already got to sneak behind his real masters for Regulus and now Kreacher must realise that he might never come back to his home. He doubts that he will but if he safely can then he will make the trip to at least check on him. The handkerchief is the first one Regulus ever got and it’s with it that he tried his first attempts at calligraphy and embroidery with Kreacher’s help, now it’s his lucky item that he kept on him at all times.

Kreacher stares at him without any emotion and the handkerchief in his loose hand.

“Where is Master Regulus going?”

“Less than a minute,” Sirius says and grabs the big luggage, with his initials on the handle, beside Kreacher.

“I can’t tell you,” Regulus sighs out. “But I will try to reach out to you, I promise. Kreacher please understand.”

“Kreacher doesn’t understand why Master Regulus doesn’t want to come back to Grimmauld Place.”

“Because it’s not safe for us, not anymore.”

“Reggie.”

“Fine!” He snaps and takes his own heavy luggage, jungling with his second one from school. “Kreacher, stay safe please.”

“Is Master Regulus saying goodbye?” Kreacher whispers with his eyes reddening by the minute.

Sirius softly grabs Regulus’ hand, pocket watch in his other hand ticking like a clock, and he squeezes it back. He sighs out and tries to fight the uncomfortable feeling crawling through his eyes but this really feels like he is throwing away too many good memories at once.

“I will see you if I can Kreacher, I promise,” he articulates, “but for now it's goodbye.”

“Mas-”

Regulus falls ass first. Sirius almost loses balance because of that but manages to sidestep him as he bursts out laughing. The nausea isn’t strong but still affects him more than Regulus expected, his brother’s mirth is still the one bothering him the most.

“You better not be laughing at Krea-”

“Em’ hit Walburga with a cart!” Sirius wheezes. “A cart!”

Regulus guffaws with him before even realising it. He recalls the shout of their mother and the sound of the cart falling to the ground but the way she laid on the platform is even more absurd because Walburga Black does not fall.

“You alright there?”

He coughs in surprise, trying to calm himself down with a last hiccup of mirth, whilst Sirius keeps snorting with lips pursed. It takes him a second to recognize the man looming over them, albeit their striking aura is only because of their height - Alphard still has the same kind playful smile with soft eyes.

“Uncle Alphard?” Sirius gasps out, cheeks flushed from their recent hilarity.

“Good afternoon Sirius.” Alphard grins and offers his hand to Regulus. “Rough landing Reggie?”

He clears his throat and grabs it. “Just a bit surprised.” His uncle has more strength than he thought, almost jumping mid-air from that pull.

“Thank you for the portkey,” Sirius says and offers it to him. “Here is your pocket watch. It’s still the same one.”

“Well, I’m sentimental,” Alphard grins and glances at it. “And sorry for that rush,” he says and rubs a hand between Regulus’ shoulder-blades which surprises him. “This is all a bit expeditive but I didn’t want your parents to track you down.”

“Well, though luck. Walburga was at the train station,” Sirius drawls out.

Alphard shakes his head in surprise before playing with one of his long, ridiculous Regulus wants to say, moustache. “I was afraid they might have contacts in the ministry… Even if we pass through the French Ministry of Magic the British Ministry had to be notified,” he sighs. “This is probably how she sniffed you out. Sacrebleu, we are going to be late if we don’t go drop to the Ministry now.”

“The Ministry?” Regulus frowns. “Why?”

“The Trace will still be active on you, Regulus,” Alphard explains. “Sirius’ birthday is coming soon but they could have followed it to find you anywhere you go. That’s why I had to declare you under my care but the Ministry still needs your inputs… Are you alright though? She didn’t do anything?”

“No, no,” Sirius chuckles. “Emmeline hit her with a cart when she was screeching at us.”

“A cart?!” Their uncle bursts out laughing, a deep one with a melodious rhythm, and his tall frame folds slightly as he puts his free hand on his Sirius’ shoulder. “Morgana, I would have loved to see that!” Sirius smiles at him and looks at Regulus, looking fonder. He is surprised when Alphard brings them both in his arms to hug them. “Oh, how I have missed you two. Mes petites terreurs.”

Regulus is a bit stiff, surprised by it, but he relaxes himself in his grasp with Sirius softly knocking their heads together. The affection is welcomed but still a wonder as it’s been years since they have even seen each other. He figured that Alphard would prefer Sirius, during the family dinners he has always been closer to him; although Regulus was never talkative either and tried to stick to Kreacher’s side.

Alphard doesn’t appear to have changed much although he has more wrinkles than before. His hair is as black as theirs and his silver eyes, a well-known trait only belonging to the Black’s lineage, and he is quite touchy. He is still chuckling about their mother and her experience with a cart at the Ministry where Sirius and him are interrogated over this decision of changing custody and also checking if they aren’t bewitched to follow their uncle. They don’t give them any troubles so they are quickly off and their uncle apparates them in the middle of nowhere beside a muggle device.

Their uncle takes the luggages to put them in a space in the back of the car. Sirius appears familiar with cars, immediately climbing in one of the back seats with a sign at Regulus to follow, whilst he has only heard about them from Dorcas.

“Put the belt on,” Alphard says and smiles encouragingly at Regulus. “Don’t worry, these are safe. I’ve been using them for years.”

“You really are living as a Muggle?” He asks and tries to not obviously startle when the car starts to shake and leaves the side of the bumpy road to take it.

“Partly yes. I have a floo but I have sealed it for now, until we’re sure your parents can’t storm through. The Ministry should update us tomorrow.”

“I don’t think the Potters would have done that,” Sirius points out with a frown at him. “I wouldn’t have even thought of it…”

“Well, if you had left and I stayed behind, they probably wouldn’t have cared,” Regulus argues. “They need one heir. Which means they would have probably left you with”

“You weren’t going to run away together?” Alphard asks with a curious look at him through the mirror in the middle of the car front.

“I would have offered,” Sirius argues.

Regulus huffs and crosses his arms. Alphard glances at Sirius before focusing back on the road. They continue in silence for a little moment with the landscape unfolding to more up and downs, forests and mountains.

“Well, it’s also easier for me as Black. I might be exiled from the family but paper-wise I’m still one and that made the process easier. I also pulled some strings to ensure your safety with the Ministry.”

“Like what?” Sirius frowns and leans in the middle. “Do you think they will really try to drag us back? Or Regulus at least?”

“This is going to make news,” he points out. “The two heirs of the Black family running away? This will shake some things up. If something happens to me you two will inherit everything I have so you won’t have to return there.”

“Oh… That’s,” Regulus trails off with a puzzled look at Sirius who seems as surprised. “That’s a lot Uncle Alphard but-”

“None of that Pureblood manners, call me uncle or Alphard,” he cuts. “And truly I have enough for the both of you. I’m glad you contacted me when I left the family, I had to figure things out on my own and I wouldn’t want to wish that on you two.”

Sirius purses his lips and leans back against the backseats. Regulus is as speechless as him at all the preparation. He hasn’t even thought of the details with the Ministry, the only thing that mattered was to get out of there for Sirius. If anything, Regulus could have stayed behind and closed himself off as he always did. This, right now, is completely out of his comforting habits.

“Thank you,” Regulus articulates with a wobbly smile because there are many emotions to divide and bury, “tonton?”

Alphard looks excitedly at him with the mirror. “Your French is still perfect!”

“Yes well, when it’s beaten into you,” Sirius growls with his chin in his palm.

Their uncle hums and they finally spot a village in the landscape.

“Where are we?”

“East, near the border to Germany, if you want to be exact,” he says. “It has the most beautiful landscapes. Most are muggles, which is also a nice change, so you will have to be a bit careful when you go out. It’s not that isolated and one of the neighbours is going to show you all the nice spots for your age.”

It looks rather nice. It’s not like Regulus is fond of big cities or anything. “Why not apparate us home? Do you use no magic?”

“I do,” Alphard replies. “But like the floo, I have also blocked the house to be found by apparating and harmful letters. It’s safer.”

Regulus nods but he is relieved that they might at least get some letters. He will need to write a letter to Emmeline and Dorcas to thank them for their help. Alphard has been banned from the family, loudly, which means no one tried to contact to him and he doesn’t sound like he tried to do so either way; though now there is risks that their parents might try to retrieve them and that Alphard thought of written them in his will isn’t a good omen. Hopefully the Ministries will manage to do something but the Black are the more, if not the most, important Purebloods family so who knows how that will go.

“I have to ask but is there a reason why— you suddenly needed to run away?” Alphard asks with a cautious look. “You don’t have to say but I hope you know that I wouldn’t kick any of you out. No matter the reason.”

Regulus glances at Sirius, who squirms with an uncomfortable purse of his lips.

“Because Sirius’ personality is ‘how much bent can I be before it becomes a crime’.”

His brother whirls with wide eyes and flushing cheeks before swatting him. Regulus returns the favour and they soon are tugging at each other’s hairs while trying to stomp on their feet.

“Hey! Hey!” Alphard calls just as the car jumps on a cobbled road. “No fighting in the car! Let go of each other’s hairs. Both of you.”

“He started it!” Sirius shouts.

Regulus tugs even harder at his hair and hisses in pain when his foot is stepped on.

“You two, stop this now. You might break something and I don’t want to cause an accident.”

“Fine,” Regulus growls out and shoves Sirius who reiterates in the same way. “Crétin.”

“Abruti.”

Alphard laughs and shakes his head with a big smile. Some people are in the small animated street, it’s more a town than a city, and they appear to recognize Alphard or his car as people greet him on their road who returns the waves and nods. Sirius anxiously squirms in his seat, looking outside before glancing at the back of Alphard’s head.

“Is it— a problem?”

Alphard frowns. “Well, yes. I know how to drive this muggle transport but I’m not sure I could repair it or have the right reflexes if you br-”

“No I meant about the bent thing.”

“Oh,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “Of course not. Though being with the same gender or not doesn’t mean there is no risk of, er, getting a disease or pregn-”

“Please let’s just change the subject,” Regulus groans out and Sirius shoots him an incredulous look.

“You bloody brought that up,” he accuses.

“Yes, well have you seen yourself?” He scoffs back.

“No fighting!” Alphard warns before they restart.

His house, half-timbering, is at the end of the village it seems. It’s not as big as Grimmauld Place but comfortable looking with two floors painted in a radiant green except for the wood. There is a large door on the left part of it, looking like an extension of the house.

“There is a garden and a small field in the back,” he says once they walked out of the car. “Let’s bring all your luggages inside then I will show you everything.”

Sirius takes his luggage and Alphard is about to grab the two biggest ones just when the neighbour’s house opens and a woman steps out.

“Alphard ! Barnabé est encore dans mon jardin !”

“Encore?!”

“Oui !”

Their uncle sighs.

“Who is Barnabé?” Regulus asks as the woman appears to notice them, eyeing them with an avid curiosity and she quickly signs at someone inside her house.

“One of my geese.”

“Why do you have geese?” Sirius articulates as he tries to hold back his laugh. “And why is it in her garden?”

“Because Barnadé hates being alone,” he sighs out and hands Regulus keys. “Go inside, I will go catch him then I will bring these two inside, they are too heavy for you two. J’arrive Hélène !”

Hélène waves at them and stumbles on a shy ‘hello’ before she appears to be too embarrassed, quickly whispering to Alphard when he reaches her.

“What is the use of a goose?”

Sirius shrugs and turns toward the house. “Give me the keys.”

Regulus throws it at him and stares at his brother walking to the door. He focuses back on the luggage with a tired quiet sigh, almost this close to just going to bed even if it's barely the start of the evening. The luggage that Kreacher prepared for him is really heavy. He manages to put it down without crushing one of his feet, glancing at the boy who is walking up to him.

“Hum, do you want help?”

The English is understandable despite the nonexistent accent but Regulus admires the attempt. The door from the neighbour is still open so he probably came from there. They seem to be the same age although the boy is tall, not dreadfully, but enough to show that he hasn’t fully grown into his limbs. The blond smiles nervously at him with a look at the car and the last luggages, starting to furiously blush. Regulus starts to find it funny so he stays quiet, openly staring at him.

“Erm, nice the meet you,” he squeaks out, balancing his arms with a slight panicked laugh. “To meet you? I’m Nathan.”

Alphard didn’t tell his neighbour that Sirius and him speak in French then, it shouldn’t make him that amused but Nathan appears to really try hard as he points at the luggage.

“Help?”

“Reggie! Move your arse because I’m not going to carry your stuff, lazy twat.”

“Alphard said he is going to take it,” he argues when Sirius runs back to his side with a menacing squint until he notices their guest.

“Oh, hello.”

Nathan’s eyes widen on Sirius, blushing harder like he is going to explode. “Bonjour ! Hum– Hello!!”

Regulus snorts at his volume and French accent and quickly turns to his brother who looks curiously at Nathan. Sirius glances with an accusing look.

“Are you torturing him?”

“How would I do that?”

“You didn’t tell him that we speak French!”

“Do we?”

Sirius elbows him with an exasperated hiss before offering his hand with a smile to Nathan, whose eyes widen like saucers. “Hi, sorry we actually speak French but my little brother here is an arse. I’m Sirius.”

“Oh, oh, it’s fine,” he gasps out and shakes his hand, completely ignoring Regulus now that his eyes landed on Sirius, “I’m Nathan.”

“This little prick if you haven’t noticed is Regulus.”

Nathan laughs far too loudly at his joke and Regulus has the thought to just glare for that. Of course their neighbour’s possible son is already under Sirius’ charm. In fact, he hasn’t let go of his hand and Sirius tilts his head at it with a grin.

“I see what you meant by ‘bent’,” Alphard whispers in Regulus’ ear who can’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that.

His uncle grins at him proudly before the goose in his arm honks and startles all of them. Nathan shakes himself off, letting go of Sirius’ hand like it burnt.

“Oh they look so much like you Alphard,” Hélène exclaims with a happy gasp. “They could be your sons. Hum, how do you say ‘welcome’?”

“Thank you, that’s nice of you,” Regulus answers in French, only to mess with Nathan, and she seems thrilled that he does.

“They learnt it since they were children,” Alphard comments. “Reggie, take Barnabé and don’t let go of him while I bring the rest inside. One of his eyes is blind so be careful he doesn’t always know where he goes. Also he is heavier than he looks.”

“What?!”

The goose is pushed into his arm just as Sirius laughs. Barnabé stays still but looms over Regulus with clumsy movements.

“Sirius, take the cake from Hélène please.”

“It’s to welcome you here!” She smiles and hands him a plate with a tall cake. “It’s a Kugelhupf, one of our famous desserts here!”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Alphard you all need to eat dinner at our house once, I would love to cook all for you,” she excitedly offers before smiling at Nathan. “And you seem to be the same age so you might show them where to have fun here!”

Nathan laughs nervously and barely looks at Sirius before glancing at the ground.

Barnabé starts honking in his arms and Regulus grimaces at it, unsure on how to hold it since it’s trying to jump, and they quickly say their goodbyes to their neighbours. Alphard tells him to put the goose outside, by the kitchen’s door.

“But be careful of the chickens!!”

Regulus hesitates at his fussy tone but manages to step outside. There are a myriad of chickens walking around in the garden, clucking and picking at the grass, and they don’t appear mean or threatening. He quickly puts down Barnabé who starts flapping his wings and he jumps back when the goose seems ready to rush at him but he only tries to climb on his shoes.

“Are you scared Reggie?” Sirius guffaws from the kitchen’s window.

“I would like to see you here,” he seethes.

Alphard appears beside Sirius and nods gravely. “Barnabé has some abandonment issues, that’s why he tries to go to Hélène’s garden when I leave. Just push him and come back inside before the chickens attack you Reggie.”

“The chickens?”

“Dreadful creatures. I would rather have dragons,” he mutters and walks away leaving Sirius and Regulus baffled.

“Alright, he is mad too.”

Their uncle prepared them each a bedroom. They are similar, facing each other, with a large bed and the space for their clothes and to work. In his living-room there is an antique piano that Regulus can play if he wants, Alphard says as he remembers that he had classes. His house is warmer than Grimmauld Place ever was, colourful and soft, with the stairs in front of the large living room with two couches and one voluminous seat. He uses magic to start the fireplace but other than that everything appears to be Muggle.

Alphard mentions that once they have the Ministry’s confirmation, he will bring them out to shop a bit. Though he assures them that they are free to rest and do whatever they want. He seems quite happy that they are here and whilst he is tactile, he starts to ask Regulus before touching his shoulder or even hugging him when he decides to go to sleep. Sirius follows him too, probably more tired because of the Hanahaki and he even coughed several times. He quickly said that he only had a cold and Alphard prepared a grog for them both.

Regulus sleeps like a baby the first day and in the morning Alphard is already up and ready for the day, grumbling about cursed chickens. He prepares a coffee for him, mentioning that Sirius told him that Regulus prefers tea except for the morning. There is a lot of familiarity, as if their uncle never forgot about them even if the last time Regulus saw him he had been at best 6 years old. He asks him about what he does here and all the animals in his backyard. Compared to the chickens, Barnabé and his wife - Maria, who is very shy of strangers and is more dependent than Barnabé who sometimes cries when he can’t find her - are simply for pleasure. Though apparently they are good guard dogs too, Alphard mutters that chickens could eat someone if they want to and he advises Regulus to only go outside with him to be sure nothing happens to him.

He is pretty sure he is exaggerating but he indulges in his words and asks to show him what he does to keep himself busy. They had the time to feed the chickens and gather some of their eggs, all the while Barnabé sticks to Regulus’ side like some kind of lost puppy. Alphard mentions that he is considering getting a cow to have milk because he likes to work with his hands and get dirty to have food in his plate - the opposite of the Black family - and points out a chicken he plans to kill and prepare for them this week because it has a nasty infection starting in his eye so it’s apparently better to kill it now before it gets to another one or worse.

An owl swoops by with a letter just when they come back inside to find Sirius in the kitchen eating the breakfast Alphard prepared for him with Hélène’s klougof, toasts and drinks. Alphard takes it and casts various spells before handing it to Sirius.

Apparently, Potter took Regulus’ advice and wrote a letter to Sirius. He doesn’t know if it’s good since Sirius runs to his room to read it. It’s a bit hard to not feel left out but Regulus is aware that he should leave his brother some space. Thankfully Alphard offers him distractions without asking more questions. He offers to teach him cooking, how they will make homemade pasta today with some of the tomato sauce he made over the summer.

They talk easier than Regulus ever expected. Alphard is closer to Sirius personality-wise and like his brother planned to, he cut ties with their family by disagreeing with them. The more they chat though, the more comforting it starts to be and Regulus feels like Alphard understands him as much. He talks about his own childhood and how at first he never did much but obeyed before he learnt better.

“It’s going to be ready soon,” Alphard says. “Go fetch Sirius, please, in case he fell asleep.”

Sirius is in fact more awake than ever. Regulus freezes a bit at the look on his face, wide eyes empty of any clear emotions as he sits with his knees against his chest on his bed. He hasn’t brushed his hair so the letter sitting beside him must have taken all his attention.

“Sirius?” He needs to step closer to catch his brother’s attention who quickly clears his throat and rubs his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he croaks out.

Regulus glances at the letter and hopes that Alphard can wait a bit more. He sits in front of Sirius who finally looks at him even if it’s with red-rimmed eyes.

“What did he write?”

He sighs out and settles his face against the top of his knees. “James said that… They all want to talk to me. About what happened and– that he is sorry that he didn’t try to talk to me before.”

“All?”

Sirius nods, face still hidden, and his throat sounds full and sticky. “James, Peter and-and Remus.”

Talking about Lupin would only torture his brother so Regulus crosses his knees. “Didn’t you avoid Potter at Hogwarts too?”

“For good reasons.”

He purses his lips. Sirius has hidden the possible meeting with Lupin and how Emmeline found him choking in a corridor and Regulus wishes he had shared about it. It’s not out of retaliation that he won’t speak about how many times Potter pestered him but on the off-chance that Potter believes Regulus has the Hanahaki, it will probably be more useful that it stays unsaid rather than shared. Sirius is already tortured over what happened with his friends and Regulus adding that he is bothered by one of them indirectly will only add more guilt.

“Does that mean you will talk to him now?”

Sirius chuckles without real pleasure and looks up with a tearful smile. “You know… James is actually worried about where I am, where we are, because I was supposed to go to his place.”

Regulus frowns. “He is mad at you for that?”

He shakes his head. “No. He said that he should have reached out to me because I will always be welcomed at their place, even his parents are asking about me…”

His next words feel dreadful and tighten around his throat. “Do you want to go there?”

Sirius looks at him with vulnerable eyes, wetting his lips before shaking his head. “No,” he articulates as he starts to tremble.

Regulus scooches over immediately, reaching out to hug his brother even if he stays tensed in his initial position. He rubs a hand over his back and tries to not appear as relieved as he is. It’s a nasty satisfaction that Sirius still stays at his side even if another place is open to him.

“I don’t know what happened with your friends, Sirius,” he carefully says. “But I doubt that they are all innocent. They never tried to bring you back to the dorm and… You look sick.”

“I’m not going to talk with them,” he roughly replies.

“Really?”

Sirius coughs, immediately pushing him off to lean to the opposite side as he empties himself in a bed next to his bed. Regulus clutches his free hand and tries to not let his eyes linger on the opened letter; it looks quite long.

“What I did is unforgivable,” he articulates with a rough sob. “I can’t– I can’t go back like I never did that. I can’t believe that I did it and even if they are open to talk now then what will I say? I didn’t mean to? It wasn’t me? I can’t lie to them!”

Regulus observes him but Sirius avoids his eyes, rubbing his sobbing eyes, as he tucks himself against him. He needs to hold himself to not fall as he squeezes his brother. The door creaks just so lightly and he notices Alphard peeking before closing the door to leave them alone.

“Sirius… I really doubt that wha-”

“I almost killed SnIvellus.”

He freezes before quickling restarting to rub Sirius’ back. “What do you mean?”

“I– We have a way.” He clears his throat and digs his face against Regulus’ shoulder. “We have a secret passage to go to the Shrieking Shack but we have to go through the Whomping Willow.”

The Shrieking Shack is the birthplace of many legends around Hogsmeade and even people at Hogwarts are scared of some vengeful ghost screaming from there. Regulus has no idea how to go through the Whomping Willow and has seen it managing to knock down the fastest flyers.

“Is that why Snivellus is spying on you all?”

Sirius shrugs. “He is always lurking…”

“Did you… try to trick him into approaching the Whomping Willow so he can be squished?”

His brother stays still with his eyes on the bed’s sheet. Regulus could almost think that he is dead until finally he breathes out.

“I didn’t think he would believe me. I thought that I could tell him how we got to the tunnel but he would never trust me– that he would do something else out of frustration or that he might attack me and I could hit him with a well-deserved curse.”

Regulus frowns. “But Snape did as you said?” Sirius nods against him. “So he discovered the secret passage and that’s why Potter and all were mad?”

“That’s a part of it,” he whispers. “But I never thought that Snivellus would believe me.”

The Marauders must be hiding something in the Shrieking Shack. Regulus really wants to figure it out but Sirius has asked him to not overthink it– maybe they all go there to shift as animagi and Snape found them transforming. He could easily send them to Azkaban.

“You… wanted to trick Snape by telling him the truth about the Whomping Willow?”

“I don’t bloody know what I was thinking,” he snaps with a sob. “If that wasn’t clear already.”

Regulus can’t help but remember their parents. That time when Sirius asked their father if he could get more paint, he was barely six and still a child scared to disobey who worked on their classes without much complaint. Regulus has been practising the piano and his father asked him to pause so he can answer.

“Do you remember,” Regulus wet his lips. “Do you remember the cupboard in the corridor?”

Sirius looks at him. “What cupboard?”

“At Grimmauld Place,” he says. “You asked for paint one time– and Father told you that you can get more from the cupboard beside the stairs.”

“I don’t… I don’t remember that.”

Regulus can still see it clear as if it happens in front of him right now. “I was surprised because Father immediately told you: ‘Yes. You can find some in the cupboard.’ I never saw the inside of it and they have never let us draw much… You were shocked that he replied to you because they always complained about your painting as a useless skill.”

“What? Reggie, I don’t get it.”

“Just– just listen to me,” he insists and his voice quivers. “You didn’t move and then Father rose from his seat. I thought he would beat you but he only led you in front of the cupboard. ‘Go on, Sirius, open it’ he said but you looked terrified of it.”

“I stared at it for hours,” he articulates with a shaky frown.

“You were.”

The same happened to Regulus who had made the mistake to ask for a small candy, after a rough session of piano with his tutor, to his mother. She had smiled like a predator and accepted like it happened every day, saying that there are some in the cupboard. Regulus has also stared at the cupboard’s door, afraid to trust but torn by desire.

“Why are you reminding me that then?”

“I think… that’s what you did with Snape,” Regulus admits. “You told him the truth, what he wanted, but knew he wouldn’t trust you so he would be t-”

“I’m exactly like them.”

“What? Sirius, no-”

“Regulus. Leave me alone,” Sirius warns, white as a sheet, and heaving loudly. Regulus tries to reach out but his hand is slapped away. He tries to talk but Sirius furiously shakes his head and gasps, screams at him to get out. Sirius stays in his room the whole day after he manages to kick Regulus out of his room. Alphard prepares a plate for Sirius, leaving it in front of his door without a question though he asks Regulus if there is something he can’t do or not. Regulus himself isn’t sure and forces himself to eat a bit when Alphard insists.

He feels like he has to Sirius but his brother doesn’t open his door or reply to him. Sirius only comes out for dinner but changes the subject whenever Regulus tries to apologise. To him, it all makes sense what he tried to do with Snape and if he hadn’t told Regulus that Snape believed him then he would have never thought so. Snape must have been desperate or particularly stupid to believe Sirius or perhaps he planned to be hurt for Sirius to be punished. Potter and the rest of his friends probably never expected Sirius to do something as dangerous as that, risking someone’s life and their secret. Regulus isn’t sure what to think but if Snivellus had died– then it would have been a blessing. He has seen enough in the Slytherin dormitory.

Sirius wishes them goodnight and goes back to his room after showering. Regulus doesn’t feel up for much and turns to bed early too.

“Regulus.”

His fingers freeze over the piano’s keys. “Yes, Mother?”

“You have not finished the garden,” she seethes. “Finish what you started. Now.”

Regulus swallows and stands up. “Yes Mother.”

His feet are heavy, fighting against his will, but they bring him to the garden of Grimmauld Place. The air is smothering and bites at his eyes like poison. He spots a slightly big black cat with a thick tail and digging furiously at a patch of dirt before hissing furiously when they come close. It has disturbed a group of wolfsbane and moonflowers, completely turned over the dirt.

“Bloody cat!” His mother hisses. The cat spits back but jumps away at her hex before climbing up the tree and disappears in it. “Damn these parasites,” she growls before turning to Regulus. “Well, Regulus? Finish what you started.”

“Yes Mother,” he says with an empty breath as he tries to not cry.

Sirius’ dead face looks up at him, buried in the recently dug up dirt. Regulus falls to his knees, bare hands pushing back the soil over his brother’s dead eyes staring right at him. His mouth is painfully opened with flowers bursting out from all his orifices. One wolfsbane is slowly digging its way in the corner of his eyes. Regulus trembles but his mother leans over him as he diligently covers his dead brother.

“That’s the flowers you picked Regulus,” she spits. “It’s your choice. They are hideous. But you wanted it. Thanks to you at least we have good manure– our family’s disgrace will have a use at last.”

The bed is drenched in sweat and Regulus tumbles from it as he screams for Sirius, he manages to stumble out of his room to charge into his brother’s room.

“Reggie?” Sirius croaks out before gasping at the sudden weight crashing him down. “Wha-”

“I’m sorry! Please, please– don’t leave me,” he cries out.

Sirius holds him to sleep. They repeat this over the next nights without a question or a comment and Regulus’ bed is left cold. If Alphard notices it, he doesn’t say.

Their uncle hasn’t mentioned anything about their coughing either but he always prepares them some tea with honey and lemon. Their new home, which surprises Regulus himself that he thinks of it that way, is great. Once they receive the Ministry’s response, Alphard brings them both to Paris for a day. It’s a great day that ends with Regulus getting to pick a familiar for himself, to which Sirius whines but Alphard tells him to be patient.

Regulus has always wanted a familiar but their parents only have an owl because it’s useful and neither Sirius nor him ever got the chance to have one. The cat that Regulus had found when he was younger had been killed so he never tried to get one ever again. Sirius never really mentioned if he really wants one, albeit he looks a little jealous when Regulus gets to pick a ferret for himself.

Alphard doesn’t mention the reason for this sudden gift until they are back home and they find Nathan in their uncle’s garage, the part added to the house, with a motorbike. Which Sirius immediately recognizes as a 1959 Triumph Bonneville T120, which Regulus has no idea how he can since it looks dirty and absolutely not working. Though Sirius has mentioned to him that he wants a motorbike once he gets out of Hogwarts, planning to make it fly as one crazy experiment, and Regulus has no idea Alphard even knew about it.

Their uncle explains that since Sirius’ birthday is coming up, he decided to give him his gift in advance - but that he missed enough of Regulus’ birthdays to offer one in advance. Nathan is an apprentice mechanic, and unable to not ogle or blush next to Sirius, so he is here to help him to repair the motorbike. Sirius appears completely ecstatic at the prospect of learning about mechanics and how to take care of his motorbike and drags Nathan to their home everyday to work on it. Regulus enjoys watching just because the to-be mechanic doesn’t seem to stop embarrassing himself around Sirius and almost knocks himself unconscious because Sirius has no tact and is too focused on his bike to notice that cleaning with his shirt is almost a free show for their neighbour. Alphard joins the watching with Regulus several times.

They eat once at Hélène, with her husband Yves, and Nathan who tries to act natural but his eyes always drift toward Sirius. Regulus manages to spook him several times when their gazes meet. On another day, Alphard brings them to a small forest not far from there that grew on a small mountain to gather chestnuts that he plans to cook with cabbage and a chicken. Sirius starts throwing chestnuts at Regulus first, who reiterates in the exact same way before they are rolling in the colourful leaves. They get back home in one piece and help Alphard cook.

It feels like they are at home.

“Reggie!” Sirius bursts out in his bedroom, mid-afternoon. “There is a storm!”

He sits up on the bed, hesitating for a second before closing his book. “You mean–”

“Did you cast the spell?” He whispers with an excited look. “At dawn and dusk?”

“Yes, every time without a fail.”

“Then the time is here!” Sirius cheers and throws him a jacket. “We’re taking my bike, his first ride!”

“What? Why not here?” He asks, keeping his voice down. “Alphard is busy in the backyard so he won’t see.”

“What if you are a gigantic thing? We don’t want to break the house. It’s better outside, trust me,” he promises as he grabs some clothes to put them in a bag. “Come on, let’s go!”

Regulus follows him downstairs after taking his potion pouch, putting on a jacket and his shoes the fastest he can, just as Sirius shouts that they are going to try his bike. Alphard doesn’t have the time to say anything before they are out. He puts on the second helmet that Sirius spent a day decorating and climbs cautiously behind him before holding on to his brother’s waist as instructed.

The rain wipes in their faces and the thunder growls around them but Sirius only laughs, speeding up through the paved road as they head toward the forest where they gathered chestnuts. He even goes off road and Regulus grimaces at all the bumps. All the trees shake with the wind and they are hit by more leaves than necessary. Sirius is still thrumming with excitement and Regulus finds himself smiling to him despite the cold and the bad weather.

“You need to undress.”

“What?!”

Sirius gestures at him. “Shifting the first time will vanish your clothes, trust me. But if you want I brought a spare. You never know what will happen to them.”

“We’re in the middle of a forest!” He shouts back.

“Exactly! And no one will go on a walk with that weather! Come on, I saw you naked, before it’s not a problem.”

“No way!”

Sirius rolls his eyes before sputtering when his hair hits his face with the wind. “Fine. Lose your clothes then!”

Regulus glares at him before storming behind a rock. “If it’s a joke Sirius I swear-”

“I lost my uniform like that!”

He sighs out and quickly undresses even if the cold bites him in the ass. The potion is a striking blood-red. His eyes look up at the sky with the small question on why he even ended up in this position.

“Sirius?” He shouts.

“Yeah? You alright?”

“I’m fine.” He breathes out despite a furious chill.

“Do you want to go back home?” Sirius asks.

“No,” he says. “I’m going to drink it.”

“I’m right here Reggie, it will be alright!”

“I know.”

It’s not painful, almost as easy as blinking, but he is lost for a moment. He cautiously walks out of the rock, sniffing the air before startling with his fur raised at the steps closing on him. Regulus needs to look up, far more than he is used to, to spot Sirius with a wide grin on his face.

“Reggie?”

He glances down at his black paws before hissing at a sudden lightning strike that sounds too close to be alright.

“I’m not even surprised that you’re a cat,” he chuckles and crouches with his hand reaching out. “Though you seem bigger than the normal cats.”

Regulus can only meow out and sniffs his hand before Sirius swipes him in his arms with a loud hiss of protest. His brother only cackles and scratches his neck– which oh is the right spot.

“Oh wow, purring sounds actually nice,” Sirius says with a small coo in his voice and avoids Regulus’ attempt at scratching his face. “Hey! Be nice or I'll leave you here… You need a name and Twatass doesn’t sound good when you look this cute,” he muses. “I read that cats have a pouch of fat, I thought it was because they are lazy. But some people call it a love’s pouch because if you take care of your cat and it’s healthy and happy, then the bigger will be the pouch filled with love.”

Regulus meows and tries to grimace at how stupid that sounds just as Sirius raises him with his hands to be face to face. His brother frowns at him playfully.

“But you, Reggie, you are full of mean thoughts.You almost blinded one of my eyes with a chestnut right here,” he coos. “So your name will be Meanpouch-”

Regulus manages to swat a big scratch over Sirius’ annoying face.

They only have one day left before their trip back to Hogwarts. He wants to shift, finally believing him when Sirius told him it can be like a stubborn scratch once you do it the first time, but he doesn’t want Alphard to know; not yet at least. For now it will stay a secret for him and Sirius.

His brother and Potter have written to each other almost every day after their second night here and Regulus isn’t sure of what it means but Sirius’ mood is overall better. That’s why he is standing in front of the running fire with the letter that just arrived, ready to throw it in there. This wasn’t from Potter, the owl had been different and the writing is unfamiliar. Regulus has seen enough of the letters to be certain that it’s not Potter.

Maybe he opened it. Only to check the name at the end. It might be Remus Lupin who wrote the letter. He is tempted to read all of it, just to figure out what kind of curse he will throw first at his face.

“Reggie?” He startles, clutching the letter in hand before turning to face Alphard. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

His uncle squints at the letter before observing him. “Is that letter for Sirius?”

Regulus swallows. “Yes.”

“And you opened it?”

“I– I only wanted to check who it was.”

“Is it the boy that caused the Hanahaki?”

Regulus’ eyes widen and let out a weird croak. “What?”

“Sirius told me,” his uncle confirms and walks up to his side. “When you had your nightmares and slept with him. I came to check and Sirius told me what was going on.”

“Really?” He gasps out. “But– he didn’t tell me.”

“Probably didn’t want to worry you. You two are the same like that,” he points out with a fond smile. “I also noticed your regular coughing. Did you think I didn’t care if you two were sick or not?”

Regulus shakes his head. “I just thought that you were giving us space,” he admits, still in shock. “What else did he tell you?”

“The bond that you two have, which means you also have the Hanahaki. That’s a smart way to slow it down but it won’t save Sirius…”

“Do you know of a way?”

Alphard stares at the fire with a small shake of his head. “I have tried to look for one since Sirius told me this– sad mess. So far nothing though.”

“Oh…”

“But you can’t hide Sirius’ letter from this boy,” he says. “Your brother won’t like it.”

“What if he rejects him again? This will– It will kill Sirius,” he argues. “I would rather have him live mad at me than dead!”

Alphard softly pulls him against his side, hugging just the lightest possible to leave Regulus a way out if needed. “Let me check on that then. I know a spell.”

Regulus hesitates and glances at the cursed letter in hand. Sirius will soon be back home from his short drive with Nathan at some shop for his motorbike. He briskly hands it over before storming upstairs.

When Sirius comes back home, Regulus can hear from his room that Alphard casted the same spells as last time to check on the letter but it has already been a bit teared up probably from the owl’s claws. He isn’t sure if his brother buys it but he climbs up without a complaint. Regulus’ door is open and they see each other but Sirius quickly looks down and slips in his room with the letter in hand.

Regulus purses his lips before sighing and turns back to the writing of his own letter. The one option he really didn’t want to see happen but he supposes this time there is no choice. Even if it means dealing with James Potter regularly. If Sirius and the Marauders are back together– then Regulus, or Meanpouch, will be right there too.

[rainintheevening]

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV

Sometimes he watches Peter, when Peter isn't looking.

They go home for the Easter Holidays, and Mother takes them to church, and they stand and sing, everyone singing, lots of mothers shedding tears, but Edmund looks up at Peter, so tall and straight and singing hard, and Ed wishes he could be that brave and confident, even as he hates that it's Peter taking Mother's arm as they leave, and not Dad.

He misses Dad so much. Misses talking in the evenings by the wireless and looking over the newspaper and Dad not hiding things from him like Peter does. Misses Dad’s jokes and quick wit, and Mother laughing at breakfast when her hair is messy.

Edmund doesn't really say his prayers anymore, but he does beg God to bring Dad home safely.

Peter makes him think about Dad too much though. It's easier with his friends at school, with them there's always something new to plan, always some delightful new way to twist words or people or events. When he works his brain like that he forgets how small he is, and he forgets how hungry he is.

He tells himself he's glad to go back to school.

It's two more terms before the bombing starts. Right at the end of summer holidays, there's a week to go, and the school gets hit. Everyone says how lucky and what a blessing it was that school was out. Otherwise, think of all the children who might have been killed!

There's a grainy picture in the paper, And Edmund stares at it for a long time. He imagines the stones falling in on him, crushing him, and there's something terrible and thrilling about the idea.

He imagines those stones hitting Peter's face, and grins wickedly. But only for a moment. He can't hold that smile, not truthfully.

So they don't go back to school. Neither does Susan. They all stay home, and the grown-ups start talking about sending them away to the countryside, away from the highly populated areas where the Germans would concentrate their assault.

Mother always looks so desperately sad whenever it's mentioned at church, and anytime Edmund tries to ask questions, Peter looks at Lucy and shuts him up.

Peter's always telling him what to do. Sometimes it makes Edmund feel like swearing.

They learn the drills, they develop a routine. There's a week where they spend at least a few hours in the Anderson every single night.

There comes one bad night.

They wake up, and the sirens are wailing, and bells are ringing, and Ed stands at the window, watching the orange and red blossom to the sky. It all swirls around him, chaos, but it's strangely beautiful, there's a terrible power in it.

There are bombs falling on them. They could all die, right now, tonight.

And then Mother is there pulling him away, and Lucy is screaming, and Peter's herding them all down through the back garden, and Edmund remembers.

They're not all here, they've forgotten someone.

Dad.

Dad’s picture, the good one, of him in his uniform, the last one he took before he went away. Ed always brings it with them, and if he doesn't remember, Mother or Lucy usually do. But they've forgotten this time.

They've forgotten Dad.

He hears Peter yelling, he's back in the house grabbing at the framed picture, and then there are arms tight around him, throwing him to the floor, and the whole world explodes, shatters, glass raining down, but Peter's holding him tight, safe just out of reach of all that glittering, jagged shower.

Time blurs.

They tumble into the shelter, Edmund staggers, falls on one of the beds, hand slipping on the broken glass of Dad’s picture. He stares up at Peter, who looks more horrified than Ed has ever seen him before.

They're staring at each other, and Peter's shouting, he sounds like he might cry. Mother hugs Edmund, and he feels a sting on his palm, knows he must have cut himself, but he looks back up at Peter, square on, like he hasn't in ages, sees a wild sort of anger, like a cornered animal.

“Why can't you do as you're told?!”

It rings in Ed’s ears, almost worse than the explosion.

The next morning Peter stands in front of the shattered front window, staring blankly out. Ed comes up beside him, opens his mouth to make a smart remark.

“You could have been killed,” Peter says. “Or worse. That glass would have cut you to ribbons.”

Peter's voice does something funny, and he turns and walks away too fast, and Ed turns, a beat slow, to watch him, watch his back, and it isn't ramrod straight, not today. Peter's head is bowed as he leaves the room.

Next

[also-fours]

look i didnt hate kung fu panda 4

i think it's a higher budget episode of the cartoons, doesn't feel like the other movies at all, and really shouldn't have been named "kung fu panda 4," literally all the outrage this film has garnered couldve been avoided if it just wasnt called that, but i dont HATE it

i think it's a fine movie on its own but as a fourth film it just kinda feels like an awkward smudge on an otherwise clean window

that being said you can tell this was written and directed by different people because they had po refer to himself as "the kung fu panda" and he. he never called himself that.

no one has EVER called him that

not once in the movies (maybe the cartoons but ive only watched legends of awesomeness and that was when i was a kid) has the name "kung fu panda" been uttered, it's always ONLY just been the name of the films

i mean it's not a big deal! it's not like the worst thing that couldve happened, but it also just kinda feels like "yep, this sure is the movie where the panda does kung fu"

[daryldixonsbabys]

Im new to this whole thing so this may not be good but here we gooo!

Daryl dixon x reader smut🫢

enemies to lovers one shot

Warnings: smut 18+ (fingering,eating out,lots of dirty talk,lots of fucking)

You walked out yours and aarons shared house doing a little stretch expecting a normal day and a normal run with rick grabbing your knives for the window and shoving your boots on wearing a little crop top and some shorts walking down your steps making your way to the gate getting ready to wait for rick.

20 minutes had gone by and rick hadn't showed up getting ready to go find him you hear the same bike you hear every morning about to leave. You turn around to see daryl. Daryl Dixon. Since the moment you joined the group daryl always hated you never doing anything nice and after a while you just began to play along hiding your feelings you had caught for the man.

Daryl stopped next to you grunting and shaking his head. "Rick isn't coming hes gotta look after judith" he paused and looked disappointed "Yer gunna have to come with me" you look at daryl and give him a stare "well are yer coming or not i don't have time for yer bullshit" you stare for a couple more minutes and think about it "You think im getting on your bike?" Daryl laughs and pauses "well if yer wanna go on a run today then u are sweetheart" .

You look at the floor trying to hide you flushed cheeks from the nickname "fine but you can fuck off if you think were talking on the way" Daryl nods at you and you get on the bike going out the gates to a town not to far from Alexandria. You hop off the bike and begin walking to a pharmacy. Daryl get off and questions you "where do ya think yer going?" You turn around and look at him "where do you think asshole?".

You open the door to the pharmacy daryl not far behind you grunting as he walks through the door you walk over do a draw and open it seeing birth control and a couple other pills reading what they are not focusing on whats going on you don't hear the walker behind you "God dammit Y/n watch out" daryl stabs the walker behind you not saying a word just looking at you "d..daryl im sorry i wasn't paying attention" you say dropping the pills back into the draw.

"Yer sorry?..You really think sorrys alright you could of been killed you idiot if I didn't see that walker you would've been dead Y/n!" You freeze and stare at him confused on why he's so upset with you "why do you care so much you fucking hate me" you mumble walking out the door to the next building too busy looking for stuff you don't feel the presence behind you feeling someones arm wrap around your waste and one come up to your neck.

"I don't hate you" you hear daryl say in your ear "I've never hated you from the moment you found our group I've wanted to pin you down and fuck you till you cant say your own name" daryls lips go down your neck slowly "d..daryl" you whimper "what baby you don't want it cmon ive seen the way you glance at me when im fixing my bike" your breathing picks up and you don't move "those shorts and that little crop top your wearing aren't helping sweetheart".

You look down seeing how revealing your clothes are. "Daryl what are you doing" you say feeling his hand that was around your waist go down to your shorts unbuttoning them and slowly dragging his hand down to your panties. "Tell me to stop Y/n tell me you don't want it" daryl feels you shake your head against his chest smirking against your head. His fingers reach your clit and he uses two fingers to rub it you whine at the contact panties getting wetter with every touch "quit your whinin" daryl says his hand going lower shit he mumbles "this all for me baby?" He asks you nod your hes "nuh uh i wanna hear words" "all for you daryl all for you" you moan as the the tip of his finger touches your entrance.

"fuck daryl please" daryl smirks and sinks two fingers into you you moan out and whimper at the stretch "that's it baby shit your so tight" you whimper at daryls words "daryl" you moan "what sweetheart" he asks you can hear the smirk in his tone "can you use your mouth" you ask as his fingers pick up in speed "oh you needy little thing you want my mouth baby?" You nod your head.

Daryl pulls his hand out your pants you whine at the loss but realize what hes doing he get from behind you and gets on his knees in front of you pulling your shorts down and spreading your legs "oh baby she's so pretty" he says grinning you grip his hair and pull him forward whining when he licks a strip up your pussy he continues doing that for a minute till you feel him start sucking your clit moaning his name you try pull him closer feeling your release coming "daryl m'gunna cum please" daryl stop and uses his thumb to rub your clit "go on baby cum all over my tongue" moving his finger and sucking your clit again he stares at you not breaking eye contact.

You grind on his face one more time before you knees buckle and you slump against the wall moaning daryls name while trying to pull him away by his hair but he doesn't lapping up all your release. He stands up and unbuttons his pants letting them drop to the floor "yer sure baby we can stop and go home?" you look up at him "im sure daryl want it" he smiles down at you pushing his boxers down his cock up against his chest you let out a gasp like noise and it catches his attention "it'll fit sweetheart" he grins.

He lifts you up wrapping your legs around his back and your arms around his neck "alright yer gunna have to be quiet don't want any walkers coming in" he smirks. He looks down and gives his cock one last pump before he's bumping his tip against your clit your fingers digging into his shoulders he moves it down going in slowly. You whimper at the stretch "oh i know i know baby its big isn't it?"

You nod at him and whined moving your hips "okay baby" he said kissing your neck he slowly moved the rest of his cock in grunting into your neck "shit oh fuck sweetheart your so fucking tight tell me when i can move" theres a slight sting but you nod your head "words baby i need words" you look him in the eye "please move dar please" he slowly pulls out sliding all the way back in muttering shit into your neck.

He picks up the pace finding that spot that makes you moan he looks at you smirking "your moans sound so good" you whimper feeling him speeding up "daryl m'gunna cum" you moan again feeling your release in your belly "no don't you dare hold it pretty hold it just a little longer can you do that f'me?" You look up at him nodding with tired eyes moaning his name "oh shit pretty you ready can i fill you up baby please" you look up nodding your head at him "good girl baby such a good girl go on cum all over my cock" he thrust his hips one last time and your cumming all over his cock.

"Oh f..fuck baby shit" he slows down pumping you full slowly pulling out getting down on his knees holding you up by your thighs "oh baby i wish you could see this" he says grinning at the mess he made he slowly slides two fingers in making you whimper "i know baby i know im sorry just want y"to be full off me" he gets up pulling your shorts back up leaving you full and sliding his pants back up.

"C'mon pretty" he says picking you up and carrying you back to his bike he sits you on the front this time on his lap. The ride back to Alexandria felt like it took 3 hours you drifted off to sleep on daryls lap with your head in his neck.When he got back he carried you into the house carol smiling at him as he walked through the house.He cleaned you up with a wet cloth making sure you weren't to sore.He placed you on his bed and kissed your forehead taking your shirt and pants off and sliding one of his shirts.

He got himself ready and slid into bed next to you grilling your thighs and putting his head inbetween your tits kissing then.

I feel like this was shit and like rushed it butttt this is my first post sooo hope you enjoyed i guess! I accept requests :) also heres a sexy edit i found of daryl🫢🫢

[persy-r-bozo]

One of the reasons i picked tumblr first over others is not only because it seemed like a calmer environment.

my tumblr roots dig deep.

in 2015 - im pretty sure-, i found tumblr because of multi animation projects and undertale AU's.

my first computer was a hand-me-down windows 98.

id rush though my homeschool work, go on tumblr and lurk and read. with the clicks of those big bulky keys

and id have forgotten about it for a while till i found dhmis for the first time.

i watched a ton of dubs and thus i started lurking again.

i have always had internet anxiety, it made me nervous and scared. i already hated confrontation, what if i said something wrong without knowing? overthinking stuff like that.

however years later my true friends convince me to post my art online, they helped me make a instagram. and i chose to make a tumblr account.

and ive made friends and fans alike, and everytime i get a notification i get all bashful. for years i thought my art was bad, that i was cringe.

but tumblr taught me that my art was good.

and that i was never cringe.

i was just me.

[cupoftaae]

Forever And A Day (KTH x READER) series ♡ Francis Forever (chapter 17)

Summary: your lifelong friend is forced to face his true feelings for you once he breaks the number one rule of becoming friends with benefits: dont fall in love. He knows he loves you, but you on the other hand need more convincing of the most important thing: the right decision.

Genre: fwb. Roommates, friends to idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, smut, the whole 9 yards tbh.

Pairing: taehyung x female!reader

rating: 18+ (minors dni!!!)

word count- 5k

warnings- swearing, angst, mentions of miscarriage, confused feelings, some kissing (some smut not really its like 2 seconds), REALLY EMO

a/n- guys....we have reached the final chapter of Forever And A Day, oh my god. Ive worked on this story since January, its very dear to me, Thank you for everyone who tagged along. I love you so much! there will still be an Epilogue posted as well. Enjoy the chapter angels

-nini

Your feet led you down to the kitchen, where your mom was currently cleaning.

"hi honey" she mumbled, not turning around to see you as she scrubbed the top of the stove.

"hey.." you walk over, opening the fridge and looking for something to snack on. Granted- there was something made for breakfast but you hadn't woken up until 12pm. Technically, it was now lunch.

"do you want me to make you something?"

You peer over to your mom whos putting things away in the storages

"no thats okay" you grab a sleeve of crackers from the cabinet and some cream cheese, opting to sit at the kitchen island with your sad "meal"

"thats not lunch, missy" your mother scolded as she turned to you finally

"meh" you shoved the cracker in your mouth as you watched her grab her coat from the hanger. "where are you going?" you spoke with a full mouth.

"I have to run to the store"

"didnt you just go the other day?"

Your mom peered over her shoulder, waiting a moment "yes...but, I forgot to grab...uh....planter feed, for my little window plants" she nodded over in the direction of them.

"okay....can I come?" you mumble, throwing another dry cracker into your mouth.

"no" she laughed, making you look up

"what, why?"

"because" she began to ramble "well...I love you but Ive spent every minute with you this week, its good to be alone for a few hours"

You raised an eyebrow as if you didnt believe her.....because you didnt. "okayyy..." your voice dragged out

"ill be back in no time, no worried dear." she grabbed her bag and walked to the door, "ill bring you back a coffee" she winked as she left.

Once you heard the door lock, you stood up, licking the cream cheese off your fingers.

why was she in such a hurry to be gone?

Your feet wandered over to the little plant cabinet she had, opening it to see a freshly stocked basket of soil feed packets. Of course she was lying.

She was probably looking for an excuse to see that guy shes been talking to for months now. Why would she lie though? does she think you couldn't handle it?

Chosing to ignore it, you picked up her cat and made your way upstairs to your room, sitting down at your desk.

These days you werent out much, last time you saw other people was 2 days ago when you went to go grab the mail from the mailbox in the pouring rain. Nonetheless, you still loved to get yourself dolled up as if you were going out.

You applied some makeup, carefully drawing out your eyeliner to a sharp point. The way you applied your face could be compared to how you applied yourself to everything else in life- strict and neat, and you hated when you had a smudge

You pushed through your makeup bag, searching for a certain lipstick that you are now realizing you left back in Paris.

"that was $20" you sigh, standing up to wander to your moms room. Surely she has something to use, shes always been one to paint her face, she used to let you play "makeover" when you were young, which might be why you love it so much now. It was always enjoyable, even if you made her look like a clown a bit.

You wondered where she would keep her makeup, as it wasnt in her bathroom. A quick scan around the room brought you over to her vanity drawers.

"ahh, there we go" you happily looked at all of the collective lipsticks and palettes sprawled out in front of you. You grasped a few of them to look for one you would use, when your eyes fell onto a folder underneath all it.

Pulling it out and carefully looking inside, because you were snoopy even with your mothers belongings, you saw what appeared to be a booklet of Polaroid photos.

You giggled softly at the cute older photos of your mom when she was younger, the silly gestures in the photos reminded you that she too is human and has her own emotions.

You came across a specific one in the pile where your mom was looking out the window in her old apartment, obviously pregnant.

that was you.

Smiling softly, you slid through the last bits before picking up one that made your breath hitch.

Your dad.

She still kept every photo. Hidden.

Photos of your dad sitting on the deck of the house with newborn you resting on his chest, photos of him not knowing your mom was even there while he did tiny activities, like fixing or repainting something.

It was so real and so raw, and you wanted to criticize your mother for keeping all of these, because as you looked at his face, you felt nothing but anger.

But you had to remember she spent a majority of her life with him...she had a kid with him....and you almost felt a sense of sympathy for her and the life she thought she would have with him.

He ruined so many things and even after all of that, she cant toss the photos.

Its never really over, huh?

-

You knew deep down that you should've respected your moms privacy and left the room, considering you were only on the look for a lipstick.

But you found yourself still digging an hour later, looking at photos and notes and everything in between. In a way, you felt like the snooping mom looking into her daughters room.

Perhaps you shouldnt have, but you took one of the photos and kept it for yourself. It was of your mom, she had to have been your age in it, and she was standing in front of the old ice cream place she always took you to before it got demolished.

She looked so happy and pure, she had that gleam in her eyes that you struggle to find in her nowadays.

You put the photo into your bag, making sure it was flat and not bent.

With any lesson learnt from your parents, its that your biggest fear is to spend your life in the wrong situation, trying to make it work only for it to end up as the opposite, and leave you with a broken heart.

But on the other hand, you also realize that you dont want to be like your mom, although you admire and adore her, you want to find your place so desperately, and not let any opportunity go to waste.

The doorbell downstairs rang, startling you a little as you rose to your feet, trying to head down quickly.

"coming!" you shout, your bare feet leading you to the locked door. You open it and see a young man with a pizza in his hand. "oh!"

He bows his head polietly, "Hi, pizza for Y/N?"

You almost laugh, "ah...I didnt order anything?"

you thought for a moment and considered that your mother probably ordered it for you, knowing that your choice of meal this morning was crackers and cream cheese.

"its already paid for" he spoke again

"im sorry but-" you sigh "okay....thanks?" you reach out, almost burning your hands at how warm the box was. You dropped it off on the kitchen counter and looked at it.

It was cheese and bacon, your favorite, how did your mom know that?

"should I trust this?" you looked down at the cat crawling over your feet, she smelled the yummy food just above and was trying to access it.

Before you could grab your phone to call her, you heard the doorbell ring again. "seriously...?"

once more, your feet dashed you over as you opened the door, assuming it would be another delivery. You dropped your phone onto the floor as the person standing in front of you turned around.

"I hope you are open to sharing that pizza" Taehyung spoke quietly, a small smile on his face.

"what are you doing here....?" you looked at him like a deer in headlights; scared, relieved, shocked, happy all in one.

He calmed his expression and stepped a bit closer, "can I come in?"

You stepped back and thought for a moment

"please....?" he persisted

"y-yeah..yeah come in" you stepped away and watched him slowly enter the house, taking his shoes off before turning back to you. He didnt have a moment to speak before you threw yourself into his chest, wrapping him up into a tight hug.

His arms snaked around you, pulling you closer as both of your breathing became uneven.

"i-im so sorry...i missed you a lot and I havent texted and, fuck, youre here and im so-"

"shhh...shhh" his hand held your nape as you looked at you, forehead against yours, "dont apologize its okay"

"but-"

"no...lets just go sit down and talk" he whispered, rubbing your back.

You exhaled shakily "okay"

You led him over to the kitchen, still in absolute shock at the fact he is here with you right now. All of the guilt began to seep back in the moment you saw his face.

You took a seat at the counter and looked at him, the sun peaking in through the blinds, leaving stray lines of orange through the room.

He smiled and looked around, pulling the seat out next to you as he sat down.

"So.." you looked at him, swallowing harshly. "wh-"

"your mom called me" he spoke honestly, sitting down and shielding the sun with his hand. "I was worried sick about you, I cant lie"

Yep. Guilt.

"and I didnt wanna bother you, but she called me and said that you wanted to see me so..." he smirked a little, looking down.

You sigh loudly, "oh tae.....i never told her to tell you to come...."

He laughed, throwing his head back "ah I figured sort of...I knew you would have probably texted me yourself"

You nod, stomach fluttering at the sound of his amusement. "yeah..'m sorry for not texting, that was really shitty of me Tae"

"dont apologize, youve gone through a lot, I understand its not easy to jump back in yet...and thats okay." he whispered "but...how are you? what are you feeling?"

"right now? im....im honestly really happy you showed up...."

"yeah?"

You nod, "mhm, i, er, missed you" you fumbled with your words, not wanting to sound needy or desperate.

"I missed you too" his response was quick.

you both looked at eachother for a few moments silently, before you spoke up, "you ordered that pizza, didnt you?"

He began to laugh, "yeah I did"

"I knew my mom wouldnt know I liked bacon...." you giggled, he moved a little closer and smiled.

"and listen, im not here to course you to coming back to Busan, I just wanted to come check on you...because you know I love you always"

You felt your face heat up, "I know...I know tae, I love you too."

"how are you physically?" he spoke quietly

Shrugging, you answered truthfully, "I think Im okay....my body is beginning to go back to normal, so....."

"good, thats good" he nods

"mhm...im glad I have my mom, but I really did miss having you nearby, and I know you dont want to hear it but I have to say it" you mumbled

"you can talk, y/n"

"im so sorry...for everything....its not fair-"

"but-"

"just listen please, its not fair...what I did to you, and I shouldnt have left, that was so shitty to leave you back in Paris knowing you were hurting too"

His face softened

"and what I did has been haunting me so much that I was afraid to contact you in fears you resented me....in fears that perhaps you hated me now-" your voice choked

"y/n, no, no," he grabbed your hands, "I could never hate you....never ever" he whispered moving to see your eyes, "listen to me, It was a bad situation, and perhaps we could have done better, yes, but stop apologizing for dealing with grief."

He wiped the tear stain on your cheek, holding your face close to his, whispering, "does your mom still have popsicles in the freezer?"

The random question made you laugh, "what?"

"this is serious, y/n, does she?"

"I- I think?" you stood and watched him search, successfully finding them. "why?"

He smirked, "you know why" he grabbed 2 and held your hand, bringing you upstairs to your room, opening the window and climbing out to the ledge of the roof

A place you two always sat during your high school days...with popsicles.

"ohh...." you giggled, now understanding his method to the madness.

"been a longgg time since we sat here, why didnt we do it when we visited a few months ago?" he smiled, opening the wrapper and licking the watermelon pop

"Im not sure..." you opened your own, happy that the sun wasn't directly on you two anymore.

Taehyung laid back against the roof, eyes on you from behind. Its been so long since hes seen you, and with every passing day he grew more impatient.

When he got the phone call from your mom, he knew it was mostly her doing, but he was not about to pass up a free opportunity to see you, even knowing the risk of you despising him was still high.

He wanted to call you beautiful, the way the orange sky illumintaed on your skin, it blended perfectly, it was straight out of a disney Princess movie.

He had no clue as to what label you two stood as, was it okay to call you baby? there was never an official breakup. Was it too much to want to kiss you as soon as he saw your face? his body yearned for you in every way, he missed the feeling of your hand in his and your body on his chest at night.

He missed all of you, and it hasnt even been that long.

"you know..." he began, closing his eyes, "Im starting to think im a bit too dependent on you" his voice was teasing,

"why do you say that?" you looked back at him, licking the popsicle.

He shrugged, smirking, "just cant seem to stay away...."

"i dont understand you" you laugh, looking forward again. "ive been such an ass, Taehyung"

"youre not an ass you just feel things deeply and I love that about you"

"is this some kind of kink?" you joke, watching him laugh

"maybe?"

You shake your head as you continue to eat the pop, "I dont shame"

He looked up at the sky, glaring at a plane flying across. He wondered if you two could be seen from the window.

He wondered how tiny and insignificant you would appear to the passengers aboard, who had no idea what situation you both were dealing with, like how he didnt know what they were dealing with.

Life is weird like that.

What problems you have and seem huge may seem meaningless to others, or how from space, you are the size of a grain of salt. It puts things into perspective, and over the past few weeks, hes been thinking about everything deeply and truly....deciding that although it may change nothing, seeing you was the best option.

"Tae?" you spoke, noticing how quiet he got

"remember when we were 16 and it was Easter? My family was over with yours, and you and I climbed up here after dinner and tried to smoke my dads cigarettes for the first time?" he laughed at the memory

You smile, "I smoked it wrong and began to choke"

You both were giggling again now

"you almost swallowed it, how does one fuck up smoking so badly?"

You nudge him, "hey!"

He shrugged, still smiling

"you are quite the smoker yourself now, huh?"

"I grew up with him smoking so yeah, I sort of picked up on it"

You nod, listening

"you hate it though, right?" he smirked

"well you are a grown man, you can chose to do as you please"

"oh cmon dont play coy, you know you would never give up a chance to scold me for it"

"yeah youre right" you sigh at his knowingness "I worry about your lungs!" you tease

"my lungs are okay" he smiled as you laid down on the roof next to him, the sun casting both of your shadows behind you.

"you dont know that!"

"trust baby, if anything was wrong youd be the first to know"

You froze after he called you baby, it wasn't like you two had been gone for years, but neither of you had been lovey in over a month, it felt almost foreign, almost wrong.

He wasnt going to apologize, it did slip, but did he regret it?

nope.

His eyes scanned over yours, softly and lovingly as he moved his hand over your hair, pushing it out of your eyes.

You stared at him, an expression reading shock. He pulled away slightly

"am I making you uncomfortable?" he seemed worried that he stepped too far, scaring you.

"n-no!" you spoke, reaching for his hand. "it just feels odd you know? its not you, its just...."

"been a while" he finished for you

"yeah..."

You still felt safe with him, how could you not?

You didnt want him to make the assumption that you were not okay with his touch anymore, because that definitely was not the case.

You slowly cuddled closer to him, both of you laid on your backs as your head rested on his shoulder, his head leaning against yours.

Both of your lips were painted pink and red from the popsicles, it made you smile.

The sky above you two seemed so big, so endless.

Staring at it was almost frightening.

You reached for his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, he quickly squeezed yours out of affection.

"ahh..." he spoke up suddenly, voice quiet. "I shouldnt.....I shouldnt have taken you to Paris"

You looked up at him

"maybe the plane ride was too much? maybe your body couldnt handle the stress?" he exhaled shakily, eyes still up at the sky. "Im sorry...I really am"

"you dont have to apologize for anything" you turned your body on your side so you faced him, though he still wouldn't look at you.

"hey.." you tried again, "you know, my mom told me she also miscarried when I was 3 years old...and thats why she never had kids after me"

He closed his eyes, squeezing your hand

"So I guess its runs in the family.....not our fault" you shrugged, "Its breaks my heart but...we dont have to blame ourselves"

He turned his head to your finally at the sound of your voice cracking, He brought you closer to his chest, hand rubbing your back. Taehyung swallowed harshly, clearing his throat to talk quietly "I've been...having a hard time dealing with it.

You rested your hand on his chest, looking at him sympathetically. His eyes were now watery, it took a lot to not cry yourself.

Youve already cried.

Youve cried so much

Perhaps you were now accepting the miscarriage for what it was, you were even able to say it aloud now, and thats growth.

You wished the same for Taehyung.

"that's okay, too" you whisper, hand snaking around to brush his hair between your fingers behind his head.

His eyes went back up to the now purple sky, tears reflecting the image in front of you. "do you think they are up there?" he smiled softly, rubbing your back still.

You look up at the sky, the clouds creating a beautiful set up as the sun set behind them. The world felt blanketed and secured in this moment, almost safe.

"yeah" you whisper, squeezing his hand, "but they are also here...with us, you know?"

He looks at you, tear marks on his face as you move to wipe them with your sleeve. "I think we will always be parents, that cant change. I feel that connection so deeply, and I know you do too. They arent gone, they just arent in this world" you add.

Taehyung smiled softly at your words, nodding slowly, "yeah....yeah youre right"

His thumb runs over your knuckles, calming you both down.

"I cant get myself to get rid of anything...like the stuff we bought." you mumble, looking down at your hands.

He chuckled, "mmh, you dont have too."

You sighed and looked at him again, a warm blush coating your cheeks.

"you know...I dont give you enough credit" he spoke "youve been through so much"

"Tae..." you brush his hair back, "youve given me everything....we need to look ahead...the past cant be changed."

He slides his hand under the hem of your shirt, touching the soft skin on your hip bone. It wasn't promiscuous or anything, simply an act of love and affection, silently showing you he's here and is listening.

"Im really sad" he choked out

You hugged him close as he began to cry into your shoulder

"its okay baby, its okay....its okay to be sad, you dont have to be strong for me" your hand caressed his back. "I love you so much, please know that"

He took a moment to calm down before pulling back to look at you, "y-youre right....we do need to look forward now"

You nod softly, holding his face.

You were a little worried to see him in this state, you didnt know he was feeling this and keeping it down for so long.

All you could do was comfort him and be there.

"I just.....are we still...." he trailed off, making you smile as you cupped his face again, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly.

"mm" you slowly leaned forward to kiss him

It was a nice kiss, not too slow but not too fast, just what was needed after a month of distance and no contact.

He blushed brightly, holding you as he whispered, "do you think we could start over? I really want to treat you right, and I want this to work. We can work it out right? the correct way this time?" his voice wavered

You nodded, still looking at him "yes....we can try again, the right way" you giggled as he leaned forward to kiss you again, this time a little quicker.

He bit your bottom lip, hands gently squeezing your hips

"baby-" you exhaled into his mouth, gently pulling back to look at him. "maybe we shouldnt"

"why?" he frowned, almost looking like a little kid

"well for starters we are on my roof" you giggled, sitting up

Taehyung smiled and looked around

"and....I dont know...sex is what brought us this mess" you teasingly nudged him, making him laugh. "lets just be with eachother for a little bit and let our feelings lead us to what happens"

He sighed, knowing you were right. "okay....can I still cuddle you though?" he whispered, making you coo at his cuteness.

"of course, lets go"

You slowly led him back into your room off the roof, closing the window before settling down on the bed with him. "when are you going back to Busan?"

He held you, face hidden in your neck "maybe in a few days...I dont want to leave you yet if thats okay"

"okay...thats fine, but, I think I'll head back with you...."

He smiled, rubbing your back "yeah?"

"mm" you kissed his head, closing your eyes.

You were still healing. To say you fully recovered was not true, but as you sat in his arms things felt normal again, even if it would be temporary.

Perhaps you needed to be with him to fully heal, to fully be yourself. Taehyung was your other half, and he knew you better than anyone. To give this another chance is like a breath of fresh air.

Putting your pasts behind you in hopes of feeling happiness again, in hopes of both of you becoming better people for each other.

Taehyung doesnt want to leave you, ever, and you cant say you want him to.

You dont spend half of your life with someone then let them run away just because things go downhill.

If your father was in your presence, you would teach him this lesson.

When you love someone, you hold their hand and walk through hard times together, you dont let them leave over something that both of you know you would need eachother's support for. To think- you almost let him out of your grasp, you almost lost him.

And Taehyung loved you so much...that if you asked him to leave....he would have.

You dont know what the future entails, and yes, its fucking terrifying. Life is scary, theres ups and downs, and suprises and failure, but theres also a lot of love, and happiness, and success if you look hard enough.

You do hope one thing for sure, and thats that he will be at your side as you grow up, to be there when you are right and wrong, healthy or sick, happy or sad.

As you both began to pick up the pieces of what was broken, you appreciated the past, knowing you had to let it go, but it also brought you here, back into where you feel most safe.

You renovated the apartment and turned the Nursery into a craft room for Taehyungs painting. He kept all of the baby belongings in the closet, hoping for the day in the future when he would open it again and feel that sense of excitement but nervousness.

You continued work and college classes, pursuing your acting career that youve always wanted, and when you graduated, Taehyung would never let you forget how much he admired you.

He kissed your neck softly, his hand pressed into yours as he hovered above you, "so beautiful, my love...."

you bit your lip before exhaling a shaky moan "ohh..f-fuck"

"so smart....youre so perfect baby, I love you"

He kissed you gently, still moving his hips against yours as you held him close to you, fluttering your eyes shut.

things had settled into place once again.

Taehyung got offered a job as an art teacher at the college you graduated from, taking the full time position while you worked at the local theatre, producing and preforming sold out plays every weekend.

The saving money part was hard for him, he wanted to buy you anything you laid your eyes on.

"did you seriously buy the couch?!" you tossed your bag, running from the doorway to the living room to see the grey couch you had pointed out shopping with him literally the day prior.

He shrugged, "yeah...whats the big deal?"

"taehyung!" you giggled and hugged him.

He was too spontaneous for his own good.

A few years passed, and looking at your current life now, you would not believe how much had changed. You can say for the first time in a while you felt happy...and oh what an exciting and freeing feeling that was.

"I love youuuu! my baby!!!!!" taehyung danced around on the icy sidewalk outside of your apartment door, it was new years eve and he was drunk.

very...very drunk.

He pointed at you as he sang, "my babyyyy! woo!"

You giggled, sitting on the steps and recording your man child boyfriend whom you loved so much. "baby be careful dont sl-"

too late.

He fell on his ass, laughing so hard he almost puked, which of course made you laugh too.

"cmon ya big baby" you ran over and helped him inside. Midnight had already passed earlier, pre-drunk taehyung had danced with you around the living room, gifting you a small kiss once the clock read midnight.

"hm, I dont get it, whats so different about a new years kiss? its like every other one?" you laughed after his lips left yours.

"well its special because I get to be the first to kiss you in the new year" he smiled cheekily

"tae...your the only one who gets to kiss me any year" you point at him

"damn right" he snaps his fingers at you as he walks past into the other room.

Every holiday you spent with him felt special, every event, every grocery run, it all felt so much more authentic now.

You two were in your mid twenties now, and a lot of mental growth had come along with that. With pride, you can say you were better people than before, and thats why things worked so well.

You could easily live like this forever.....

it was basically an endless sleepover with your best friend. You were okay if you could come home and see his face waiting for you on the couch.

Your sweet boy.

You had no idea what was gonna happen next, whether that was marriage, or another attempt at having kids- you felt ready.

Ready to give him anything he wanted in return for him saving you.

You could do anything, be anywhere or anyone, in good or bad conditions, and you will still only crave him.

Your lover.

You want him for months

for years

for eternity...

For Forever And A Day.

And God knows he felt the same.

-

A/N- wow guys....this is it....I cannot thank you enough for reading my first story on here, im not perfect at writing but you guys keep me motivated and confident in my work, and I love you for that. This will not be the end of this couple, we still have the Epilogue as well as eventual drabbles.

You guys are amazing. ily.

-Nini

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@turnthepageandbeburnt @taebangtanbabe @borahaexoxo @lelefoodlover @tan-veee