#is she asking because she wants to force an answer out of me ... make me say what i dont want to ...

[cressidagrey]

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough. 

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 

Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 

Feyre could just stare. 

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 

The reactions were immediate. 

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

[loveandleases]

(Kinda NSFW)

I'm sleep deprived, so if you find any English mistakes, I'm sorry.

How would the ROs react if after a slow burn romance with an MC recovering from trust and self-esteem issues that they acquired after Chris, both of them finally reach the boiling point where they can't hold it anymore and reveal their love for each other along with a night of passion and in the end, already exhausted, the RO looks at the MC, noticing that even though their eyes demand that MC close their eyes to finally sleep, the MC refuses, and when the RO ask why they answer "I'm scared... I don't want to wake up tomorrow and end up finding out that this is all a dream."

Sure thing nonie , the rest are under the cut!

❤️ Cam - "How about we make a deal? I'm going to pinch myself, and if we're both still here after then you have to go to sleep. Alright?" Cam pinches his cheeks with more force than necessary. "I'm still here, so go to sleep. I'll be right beside you when you wake up. Promise." He'll leave you no choice, either those eyes close or he's going to be reminiscing about some dumb things the two of you did when you were young. When you are finally asleep, Cam will just watch you. Because no matter how much he hate's to admit it, you spread a little seed of doubt. What if this is a dream? What if the thing he has longed to happen for so long vanishes when he wakes up?

💙 G - They want to say something logical, but logic tends to go out the window when the two of you are together. They allow their fingertips to rub along the lines of your face until they reach your eyes, using the soft pressure of the pads of their fingers to guide your eyelids down. "If it's just a dream, mind you the best dream of my life. Promise me, that if I'm not here when you wake up you'll find me. So that this can become real. I'd find you a hundred times over. Just to be with you again."

💚 Kara - She pulls you closer, allowing her head to rest on your chest as she studies you. "You'd dream of me?" she asks, with every intention of tiring you out. Talking until you have to no choice but to drift off. Reassuring you that she's here, and when she decides to be with someone, she means it. She will be there with her gold hair tangles in knots and old makeup clinging to her face. She'll be there to wake you, to remind you that tonight like the night before she'll spend it with you. Until you're no longer scared that it's a dream.

💛 M - "Would you rather stay up and let me tell you how I would make it a reality if it were?" M leaves a feather light kiss on your cheek. Burying their face into the crook of your shoulder. "I'd like to think I could write a character as amazing you, even with all the things that has happened that got you here. But I couldn't do you justice, not even in a dream." M would cradle you close, allow you to feel their heartbeat. Something real and tangible. There's no dream that could sum up the feelings between you, the way your very face lights up their own.

💜 Isaac - "It's ironic, you're worried this is a dream, and I'm worried it's real." Isaac shares the pain of losing someone, of losing a relationship held so dear that it could break you if you let it. They don't say it to worry you, they say it because they want to be honest for once. To let you see how messed up and scared you make them. "You scare me. This," they motion to the both of you, "scares the hell out of me. Because I didn't think I could feel for someone again. I don't want to lose you, to lose us. So if it's a dream, let me dream it." "And if it's real?"

"If it's real, promise to love me through the dumb things I'm going to do until I realize you actually want to be with me."

🖤 Ardent - He places a hand on your hip pulling you tight so that your bodies can slight together, your shared warmth radiating throughout your bodies. An all too familiar crooked grin falls on his lips, "You mean to tell me, out of everyone, you dreamt me up" Ardent laughs, rubbing your back with his palm to ensure he means no harm.

He stares at you, those eyes looking for reassurance, and his smile fades into something more sincere. "If this were a dream, I'd be the luckiest man." He kisses your forehead, allowing his deep voice to soothe you.

His nose nudges your own, as those dark brown eyes latch onto yours. "You know a dream could never be this real," he allows his fingers to trail along your bare arm causing goosebumps. "A dream could never capture my affection for you. How much I want to hold you like this, it would never allow me to make love to you like we did. Go to sleep, and I promise when you wake up I'll prove to you all over again this is real."

[keepmycandleburning]

An addition to my post about how Voldemort is really invested in other people's love lives: Voldemort has no respect for people's privacy or bodily autonomy, and likes to insert himself into people's space and force people to have a more intimate relationship with him than they desire.

He uses this as a form of punishment, knowing it makes people uncomfortable, and also as a form of entertainment because he finds their discomfort amusing.

He lived on the back of Quirrell's head for almost a YEAR as a punishment after Quirrell failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts. A YEAR. IMAGINE WHAT HE SAW. Quirrell could not have done ANYTHING without Lord Voldemort seeing it and hearing it. I mean he was there when he was using the toilet, masturbating, etc etc. And imagine if Voldemort could also feel all of Quirrell's bodily sensations.

Voldemort forced Wormtail to care for him like a helpless baby, again for almost a YEAR, hand-feeding him and picking him up and God only knows what else, when they could have easily done the resurrection ritual really at any point in time—even if he truly wanted nobody but Harry, Barty Jr. could have brought him from Hogwarts.

Voldemort is clearly amusing himself with the situations at this time, making multiple jokes in just the couple scenes he's in:

'Care for my bodily needs for me,' is such an insane punishment to give Wormtail (definitely a punishment, for being a traitor which Voldemort hates and maybe other reasons) and I do wonder if he also did this to the Malfoys in DH, like forcing them to make him food and watch him eat and so on. It's just so weird to imagine that because he seems so inhuman but I mean, he does it in GoF so...

He also has Wormtail approach him and dress him by hand when he comes out of the cauldron naked instead of just bending down and picking up the robes himself:

He makes interestingly similar comments in the GoF baby era and at Malfoy Manor in The Dark Lord Ascending:

Asking his servants a question he knows damn well the answer to is 'it makes me uncomfortable to have this level of proximity with you,' and forcing them to falsely claim they have no problem with it and they actually want it.

He appears to have literally moved into Lucius's house with him, or at the very least is using it as a professional base. I almost always see people interpreting it as that Voldemort lived at Malfoy Manor, which I don't necessarily think has to be true, but I think it's a fine interpretation, and I enjoy it.

With both Wormtail and the Malfoys, Voldemort forces them to witness him in a domestic setting, forces them to claim they want it, and makes them aware that he knows that they hate it, which he knows is terrifying.

While he's at Malfoy Manor, he inserts himself into their family business (as discussed in linked post), commenting on a marriage in the family, speculating on what children the couple is going to have and what relationship the children will have with the Malfoys. We can see he's clearly using this to amuse both himself and the group of Death Eaters, as he makes multiple jokes (implying Bellatrix may be happier about her family member marrying a werewolf than she is about Voldemort's presence, asking Draco if he is going to babysit the cubs) and allows the DEs to laugh.

He also turns Bellatrix's complimentary but not overly inappropriate comment into what I think is unquestionably a sexual innuendo, and then immediately intentionally embarrasses her and induces a group of almost all men to laugh at her:

Regarding Bellatrix, there's often a misconception of viewing Voldemort as someone who would not stoop to a certain level of bodily intimacy or give up his own privacy—but he shares an entire body with Quirrell, he willingly gives up all of his autonomy/privacy with Wormtail, he even rises out of the cauldron fully nude (could have been done privately, I mean the Riddle House is right there, just carry the blood up the hill) and forces Wormtail to again interact with his naked body (and his real one now, not just the baby one) to dress him. So yeah he very much would, and he does, over and over. Voldemort gets bottle-fed and probably diaper-changed for 11 months but noooo he'd never have sex. Be serious. Voldemort takes every physical intimacy he's offered and much more.

Also just want to note that Voldemort is prone to discussing people's personal lives also in situations where it is wanted. For example, Barty Jr. reveals at the end of GoF that they clearly had some personal conversations about Barty's relationship with his father where Voldemort also offered information about himself. Voldemort definitely seems to know Bellatrix personally, and I would very much guess they've had personal conversations. And also the conversations with Snape about Lily (see last post too)—when Snape comes to him about sparing her, they have a thorough enough conversation that Voldemort believes Snape just 'desired her' and then they follow up later about how there are better women for Snape. He likes other people's business!

Overall, I very often read Voldemort as doing things for a major purpose of entertaining himself. He seems to find amusement in many different situations he's in and make jokes to himself and others. His tendency to overstep boundaries of bodies and personal space—both intentionally and by necessity—is one of these things.

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

I hope you don't mind me asking this, but why do you like Celegorm? I love that you're vocal about how stupid the Feanorian woobification in this fandom is because people who claim that they did nothing wrong or that they're not villains clearly hasn't read the Silm, but while there's still a level of sympathy to most of them, Celegorm is just genuinely the worst and I can't figure out what there is to appreciate about him lol. I'm sorry if this comes across as a bad-faith question, I really want to know how you like him while not ignoring, trying to deny, or worst trying to justify (which I have seen FAR too many people doing) his canon actions

you're totally good anon! i'd be happy to answer this. just want to preface, i perfectly get where you're coming from and why people hate celegorm, because he is, as you say, the worst. he's horrible. he's done awful things to countless people -- and by no means is he the only feanorian to have done that, obviously, but celegorm's actions in luthien's story make him a type of squicky that's unique even among the brothers. he, hm. how can i put this. he deserves nothing. and yes, people who try to justify him are just wrong. stop reading the silm if you want a mass murdering sexual predator to be glorified ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

that said! the succinct answer is that it's all about the vibes lol. all the feanorians are awful people, but celegorm is, imo, that particularly entertaining kind of awful. there's a certain interplay between his successes and failures that i find unbearably endearing (derogatory). he is canonically charming and magnetic and charismatic enough to sway people with his rhetoric, and i love that. i love that he's opportunistic, clever, and sly, and pounces on the chance when he spots it. the fact that his speech in nargothrond is explicitly paralleled with feanor's before the flight of the noldor says a lot. i find it compelling that while, in many ways, celegorm is the most distant from his family -- friend of a vala, a great woodsman and hunter which are two things that neither his father nor his brothers are ever even mentioned around -- he is the only one among the sons of feanor to be directly, textually compared to feanor, and feanor during one of his most pivotal and infamous moments, no less. the guy must be a force of nature when he really wants to be. yet at the same time, he's endlessly reckless, arrogant, and shortsighted, and he does not get to get away with his actions. his plans flop (just like he will continue to flop until his karmic and also really fucking funny death in about thirty years' time, i'll get back to that), his intentions are discerned, and he gets thrown out in disgrace for treachery with the embarrassing declaration "a maiden had dared that which the sons of feanor had not dared to do" following after him. it's that particular blend of hyper-competence followed hand-in-hand by prompt abject failure and humiliation that makes him so appealing to me.

oh and. another thing about celegorm is that he has the added charm of being a fucking sore loser and a petty bitch -- trying to kill luthien even though she spares his brother's life when she'd be justified throttling him and curufin with her bare hands and i just. he's sooo funny. what is wrong with him. so many things are wrong with him. tfw you kidnap and tried to rape this woman and she does you an untold, absolutely herculean grace and kindness that you know damn well you do not deserve and your reaction is to try to kill her for daring to show you compassion. he's insane.

then. then then then then. he gets chased by own dog and runs away "in terror." you know you've messed up when your dog finally has enough of your bullshit and runs you down because he's fed up with all the terrible things you've been doing. not to mention his dog also dies fighting next to a man that he hates, using his last opportunity of speech to say goodbye to said man. like. beren and luthien's story leaves celegorm, as skilled and magnetic as he canonically is, in absolute shambles and it's hilarious. how does one recover from that you may ask. and i answer one does not recover from that.

but that's not even all. after that saga of blunders he hangs around for about three decades doing absolutely nothing of note, then in his attempt to regain some relevancy winds up having the most mortifying death ever. my dude you were the "let's ambush doriath guys" spokesperson. you campaigned for that shit. this was your desire. this is what you wanted. and you walk in there and the guy who's *checks notes* THIRTY-SIX compared to your one-thousand-something KILLS YOU. elves are not developmentally matured until they're a hundred. your killer is like thirty. this is, generously speaking, about an eight year old by your standards. a fucking eight year old kills you. yes i know dior was not actually a child at the time but the fact remains that celegorm quite literally has more life experience than the entire human race and he's done in by the son of a human. then to add second insult to first insult to extreme injury, two of your brothers are also killed in this battle and in the end you all don't even achieve what the fuck you came there to do. THIS WAS YOUR PLAN. how do you lose that badly. holy hell. if i were him i'd stay in the halls of mandos forever out of pure embarrassment. you simply would never see me again. you think i'm walking out into society and showing my face around the block when an eight-year-old ended my life? nah. no sir not me

plus well. on a more serious note, dior is luthien's son. luthien, whom celegorm thought he could control, whom he saw as an object to further his aims and to lust after. he's killed by the son of the woman he tried to rape, and there's nothing more fitting than that.

so! there you have the basic rundown of why i like what's explicitly laid out about celegorm in canon. he's an objectively horrible man, it's just that i find the way he goes about being objectively horrible extremely funny. but i also think he is ripe for exploration in the realm of speculation -- and that speculation enhances what we do know about his actions during b&l and after until his death. aside from the kinslaying at alqualonde wherein all the sons of feanor participate, we see him and curufin acting unambiguously villainous a good bit before the rest of their brothers -- at the very least, they are clearly more willing to do horrible things at the point of time of b&l when compared to the likes of maedhros and maglor. like, they are out here committing actions that no sane person can rationalize as being anything other than abhorrent. it's clear that they've already given up on the idea of being "good"; they've already given up on keeping their hands clean and they've already shed whatever qualms they might have had in the past.

my thoughts on why? this is by no means canon, but tolkien does seem to like giving the legendarium's major villains some sort of arc and some type of insight into what they become (melkor gets history, sauron gets history, maedhros and maglor get history), so i don't see why celegorm should be any different. and for me, celegorm and curufin, especially celegorm, give the impression that they fell into despair and disillusionment far before the other feanorians did. and their response was to accept that they have no way of going back to the people they used to be, that they've already been rightfully damned, and if they've come this far they may as well do whatever they can to achieve what they fell so low for, because what does it matter anymore? it's part of why i think celegorm sees maedhros trying to look at beleriand and the war against morgoth from a larger perspective than just the silmarils, and both disdains and pities him for it. they've already been doomed and they already can't hope to make amends. they should do what they're here for -- and while, in celegorm's eyes, maedhros isn't willing to do what needs to be done, he is. i think that sort of mentality is fascinating. in a way, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy -- maybe if celegorm thought there was any meaning to him being better, or even just any meaning in not being nearly as awful as he resolved to be, then he wouldn't have stooped so low. but he did believe there was no hope for him, he did believe that he could never be forgiven -- and in believing that, he did go past the point of no return, beyond which he truly, legitimately couldn't hope to be forgiven. also, i just personally like the "well i'm a terrible person so i'm going to act like a terrible person"-type villains better than "oh no i'm a terrible person it makes me so sad and full of despair"-type villains (looking at you, maglor). again, none of this is canon, but it's my reading of celegorm's character, and i think it sheds some light on why he's so awful in b&l and afterwards. in his mind, it's already over for him anyway.

i hope this answered your question anon! i like celegorm, and i enjoy his character, because there are shades of a sad tale behind his descent to being the worst, he's entertaining while he's being the worst, and most crucially of all, he gets his comeuppance for being the worst in an extremely satisfying way. i definitely wouldn't like him (or the silm at all) so much if he'd been, like, successful in anything -- but thankfully he is written by an author who knows full well what an utterly reprehensible character he is. and boy does tolkien not spare him from that karma. he is simultaneously a singleminded and relentless fallen prince, a repulsive monster, and the story's laughingstock (one of them anyway). honestly, none of the feanorians tickle my brain quite like he does. i love him and i would beat him with a shoe

[acute-scary]

Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 16: … or Don’t Wait A Damn Hour?

After Jon, Trinity, and Damian left for the bar, the house settled into a comfortable quiet. The sound of the front door clicking shut signaled that they were alone now, and Jey stretched out on the couch, glancing over at Rhea with a teasing grin. “How about a horror movie?” he suggested, his tone playful but with an undertone of genuine interest.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking up in amusement. “You always want horror,” she teased. “Fine, but I need to change first. These clothes have got to go.”

Jey smirked, his eyes briefly following her as she stood up from the couch. “Go ahead, I’ll let the dogs and cat out for a bit. Meet you downstairs?”

She gave him a nod, already heading toward the stairs. Jey lingered for a moment before heading to the back door, opening it for their pets to get some fresh air and evening exercise. The cool breeze that swept into the house carried a bit of peace with it, but his thoughts stayed on Rhea. Everything they’d been through—the highs and the devastating lows—lingered in the back of his mind. The future they were trying to build now seemed more fragile, and yet, moments like this felt like a step in the right direction.

After a few minutes, Jey headed upstairs to check on Rhea. He pushed open the bedroom door quietly, not expecting to find her still undressed. But there she was, rifling through her bag in nothing but her bra and panties, her expression focused as she searched for something. The sight of her was enough to make his breath catch for a moment, but his eyes soon fell to the stitches on her stomach—she no longer covered them with a bandage. His heart clenched seeing them, a harsh reminder of the trauma she had endured.

Rhea sensed him watching and looked up, her brows furrowing slightly at his pained expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle but laced with concern.

Jey swallowed, forcing the ache in his chest to loosen. He gave her a small smile, stepping closer. “Nothing... You’re just beautiful. Very beautiful Rhea…”

Rhea blinked in surprise, then a soft, genuine smile spread across her face, easing the tension in the air. The compliment touched her, especially coming from him in a moment like this. Finally finding the oversized t-shirt she’d been searching for, she quickly threw it over her head, letting the long fabric drape over her body. It was big enough that she didn’t even bother putting on shorts. “Okay,” she said, giving a playful spin. “Is this better?”

Jey’s eyes twinkled with affection. “Perfect.”

Together, they headed back downstairs, the warmth between them lingering in the silence. When they reached the living room, Jey grabbed the remote and handed it to Rhea. “Your turn to pick,” he said.

Rhea took the remote, scrolling through options while Jey headed to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, rummaging for something to drink. His hand landed on a bottle of cranberry juice, and then his gaze shifted to the Sprite next to it. With a smirk, he pulled both out, grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, and started mixing the drinks. The sound of the fizzy Sprite bubbling into the cranberry juice echoed softly as he stirred the concoction.

Returning to the living room, Jey handed Rhea a glass with a proud grin on his face. “Here you go,” he said.

Rhea eyed the drink with a suspicious look. “Jey... you know I’m not having alcohol right now.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, it’s just cranberry juice and Sprite. No alcohol.”

Rhea’s face softened, a smile tugging at her lips as she took the glass from him. “You’re good,” she admitted, taking a sip. “I don’t know how you put up with me sometimes.”

Jey sat down next to her, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch as he settled in. “I put up with you because I love you,” he said simply, as if that answered everything.

Rhea leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, feeling the weight of those words. She didn’t always know how to respond to his unshakable loyalty and love. After everything, he was still here, beside her, ready to take on whatever came next. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice soft.

The movie Ghost Ship began playing on the screen, its eerie opening sequence casting shadows around the room. But for a while, neither of them paid much attention to it. The warmth of their quiet moment together was enough. Jey took a sip of his drink, his fingers lightly brushing against Rhea’s leg as they sat there. The soft glow from the TV flickered across their faces, but all Jey could focus on was how natural it felt being with her like this.

Rhea, still resting her head on his shoulder, felt the calm in his presence. The earlier chaos and tension had faded away, leaving only this—two people sharing a quiet moment, wrapped in each other’s comfort.

After the first movie, Jey had adjusted himself on the couch, shifting Rhea comfortably between his legs, as they watched their second movie, I Know What You Did Last Summer. The tension in the movie kept them hooked, leaning into each other as the suspense built. They were just thirty minutes in when the door swung open with a loud bang, startling them both.

Jon burst through the door, a wide grin plastered across his face. “IT’S MAIN EVENT JEY USO IN THE HOUSEEEEEE!” he shouted, stumbling a little. It didn’t take much to realize—Jon was hammered.

Jey groaned, tightening his arms around Rhea protectively as if that could ward off the chaos. “Bro, for real?” he muttered.

Jon swayed his way into the room, still grinning like a fool. “What, Uce? I came home early just ‘cause I wanted to see my brother!” he explained, with a wave of his hand. “Left Trinity and Damian at the bar—don’t worry about them.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow, whispering up to Jey, “You believe that?”

“Not a chance,” Jey muttered, shaking his head.

And right on cue, the door swung open again, and Damian stumbled in after Jon, equally hammered. He threw his arms wide, his entrance as dramatic as ever. “ALL RISE FOR THE BISEXUAL UNDERTAKER!” Damian declared, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled into the living room, laughing like a madman.

Jon blinked, looking genuinely confused as Damian entered. “Yo, when did they get here?” he asked, glancing between Damian and Trinity, who followed them inside with an exasperated look on her face.

“I had to babysit these two all night,” Trinity sighed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It’s like wrangling toddlers at this point.”

Jey smirked, pulling Rhea even closer, as if he could shield her from the drunken antics about to unfold. “Sounds like you had a fun night.”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “Fun isn’t the word I’d use.”

Meanwhile, Damian was fumbling with his wallet, slurring his words as he staggered over to Jey and Rhea. “Yo… Jey, listen… I bet you,” he started, struggling to get his wallet out of his pocket, “I can lift you and Rhea at the same time. Bet!”

Rhea snickered, burying her face in Jey’s chest. Jey just sighed, amused but shaking his head. “Damian, no one needs you lifting anyone right now.”

Before Damian could argue, Trinity stepped in, teasing him in her best sing-song voice. “Come on, Damian… I’ve got a honeybun in the pantry with your name on it…”

Instantly, Damian’s attention shifted. “A honeybun?” he asked, eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. He staggered in the direction of the kitchen, but Jon wasn’t about to let that slide.

“Hey, that’s MY honeybun!” Jon declared, suddenly full of energy as he raced toward the kitchen after Damian.

In a wild scramble, both Jon and Damian rushed toward the pantry, tripping over each other in their drunken state. Trinity watched the whole spectacle unfold with her arms crossed, a deep sigh escaping her lips. “I swear, I’m living in a frat house.”

Jey and Rhea could barely contain their laughter as they watched the two of them fumble and fight for the prized honeybun. “Your brother’s a mess,” Rhea whispered, still giggling.

“Yeah,” Jey said with a grin. “But at least it’s never boring.”

---

After helping Trinity put Jon and Damian into bed, Jey made his way back to the guest room he shared with Rhea. The air was warm and inviting, but a sense of intimacy enveloped the space as he stepped inside. Rhea sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with her phone, a soft glow illuminating her face.

“Hey,” Jey said, undressing quickly and sliding under the covers. Rhea turned to him, her eyes brightening as she nestled close.

“Hey yourself,” she replied, wrapping her arms around him, seeking warmth.

Jey smiled, feeling the comfort of her presence. “So, can you touch up my eyebrows tomorrow?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

“Of course,” Rhea replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips. She studied him for a moment before adding, “You really love me, don’t you?”

With a dramatic sigh, Jey feigned exasperation. “What do you want now?”

Rhea couldn’t suppress her laughter. “Trinity stashed a chocolate bar in the fridge. Can you bring it to me?”

“Fine!” Jey said, rolling his eyes playfully as he threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, putting on an exaggerated display of reluctance. “I’ll retrieve the precious chocolate!”

With a theatrical exit, Jey left the room, grinning at Rhea's amused expression. She loved these moments of lightheartedness, a brief escape from their reality. As he rummaged through the fridge, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the warmth they shared, even amidst the chaos.

Returning with the chocolate bar, he presented it to Rhea like a trophy. “Your royal chocolate, my lady,” he declared, bowing slightly.

Rhea took it with a smile, her eyes sparkling. “You really know how to treat a girl right.”

“Just another day in the life of Jey Uso,” he replied, climbing back into bed beside her. They settled in together, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as they enjoyed the simple joy of each other’s company.

Rhea took a bite of the chocolate bar, savoring the rich flavor, and offered Jey a piece. He accepted, grinning as he chewed. As she looked down at her feet, a frown creased her brow. She hated to admit it, but she really needed a pedicure.

Turning to Jey, she tilted her head with a curious look. “Do you ever get pedicures?”

To her surprise, Jey nodded confidently. “Yeah, I usually get one a month. Keeps my feet looking good for myself.”

Rhea felt a wave of happiness wash over her. “Really? That’s awesome! Matt always thought they were too feminine and stupid. I could never get him to go.”

Jey raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, he clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Could we maybe get a pedicure tomorrow?” Rhea asked, her eyes brightening at the thought of sharing the experience with him.

“Absolutely,” Jey replied, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll even let you pick the colors.”

“Deal!” Rhea exclaimed, feeling a lightness in her heart. It was the little things like this that made her feel more at ease. As they settled back into their cozy spot, Rhea realized just how much she appreciated Jey’s company. It was right…

—

**Flashback: February 19, 2024**

Jey Uso stood in the locker room, tightening his laces as the clock approached 4:22 PM. He was on a mission: snagging one of the last freshly baked brownies from catering. The cook had let him in on a little secret—catering started at 2:00 PM and wrapped up by 6:00 PM, but the last batch of brownies was always served right at 4:30 PM.

With determination, he grabbed his phone and made his way out of the locker room, eager to beat the rush. As he entered the catering area, a wave of disappointment hit him. The table was lined with an array of treats, but there, in the center, was suppose to be the plate piled high with brownies—but only one lonely brownie was sitting in the corner.

“What the fuck?” Jey exclaimed, frustration bubbling up as he approached a figure dressed all in black, their hoodie pulled low over their face. “Hey, man! What the fuck? Save some for everyone!”

The figure turned, and Jey’s irritation faded instantly. It was Rhea Ripley, the formidable powerhouse of the women's division. He hadn’t expected to see her in the midst of dessert negotiations. She had practically the whole plate of brownies.

She met his gaze with an amused expression. “What? You think just because I can lift weights, I don’t have a sweet tooth?”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess I underestimated you. But seriously, there’s only one left!”

“How about you share the plate with me?” Rhea suggested.

Jey shrugged, intrigued. “Why not? I never thought I’d be sharing brownies with Rhea Ripley.”

They settled at a table, Rhea placing her plate in front of them. As they dug into the brownies, the atmosphere shifted from casual to something warmer. Jey took a bite, savoring the rich chocolate. “These are amazing. I can see why you wanted to stock up.”

“Right? Nothing beats a good brownie,” Rhea replied, her eyes twinkling. “So, I’ve been watching your work with the whole ‘Main Event’ gimmick. You’re really killing it out there.”

“Thanks! That means a lot coming from you,” Jey said, genuinely impressed. “You’ve been a force in the ring.”

Rhea leaned back against the table, her demeanor relaxed. “I’ve seen you a few times in Florida Championship Wrestling. Always thought you were a badass.”

“Appreciate it! But what made you want to wrestle?” Jey asked, genuinely curious. “It’s a tough business.”

Rhea’s expression turned serious as she considered his question. “Honestly? I grew up watching wrestling, and I wanted to break barriers. I wanted to show that women can be just as tough as the guys. I love being in control of my own story and helping others find their voice, too.”

“That's inspiring,” Jey replied, nodding. “It takes guts to step into this world and demand respect.”

Their conversation flowed naturally, delving into their dreams, challenges, and the sacrifices they’d both made to get where they were. Jey felt an unexpected connection forming, one that felt deeper than mere camaraderie.

“Hey,” Jey said, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “I’m actually staying in Anaheim for another two days for PR stuff. Maybe you could come by my room tomorrow night? We can talk more, eat more brownies.”

Rhea’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “I’d like that. I’m doing PR too, so it works out perfectly.”

As they shared the brownies, laughter and stories filled the air, their initial banter giving way to something more meaningful. Jey never imagined he’d find such a unique connection with Rhea, but as they exchanged thoughts and dreams, he felt like this was just the beginning of a beautiful friendship—and possibly more.

—

February 20th, 2024

The next night, Rhea stood in front of her bed, staring at the array of clothes, feeling a flutter of nerves in her stomach. She couldn’t quite understand why she was freaking out; it was just a hangout with Jey. After several minutes of deliberation, she finally settled on a simple outfit: one of her best friend Damian Priest’s oversized shirts, paired with shorts and black Vans. Comfortable yet stylish.

Taking a deep breath, Rhea ordered an Uber to Jey’s hotel, her heart racing as she made the short trip. What if it was awkward? What if it was perfect? She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety as she arrived, stepping into the lobby and making her way to the elevator.

When she reached his floor, she hesitated outside the door, her pulse quickening. She gulped and knocked, trying to steady her breathing. Moments later, the door swung open, and Jey stood there with a warm smile, his hair slightly tousled and a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Hey, look who decided to show up!” he said, glancing around the messy room. “Sorry about the state of things. I didn’t have time to tidy up.”

Rhea stepped inside and surveyed the room, which was littered with clothes and snacks. She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re telling me.. Dominik’s a horrible roommate. That place looks like a tornado hit it!”

Jey chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. “Right? I swear, he leaves his stuff everywhere. You’d think he’d have a little more pride.”

“Guess it runs in the family,” Rhea teased, plopping down onto the edge of the bed, her initial nerves beginning to fade. Jey closed the door behind her and leaned against it, crossing his arms with a playful grin.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, motioning to the mess. “I promise it’s usually worse.”

“Yeah, right,” Rhea replied, rolling her eyes but smiling. “I can only imagine. So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“Well, I thought we could order some food and maybe watch a movie. Got a couple of horror flicks I think you’ll like,” Jey suggested, moving over to the mini-fridge.

“Perfect,” Rhea said, feeling more at ease. “As long as you’re not planning to scare me too much.”

“Me? Never,” Jey replied, feigning innocence as he pulled out a couple of sodas. “Just a few jump scares here and there.”

With the tension easing, Rhea felt a sense of comfort wash over her. Maybe this would be more than just a casual hangout. Maybe it was the start of something special.

The night had gone from lighthearted to something more intimate as the conversation flowed. As Jey poured them each a glass of Whiskey, the two soon found each other buzzed after the fourth drink, laughing uncontrollably at the conversation they were having.

“Wait, so it was your idea to be flirty with me at Fastlane?” Rhea asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped from her glass.

Jey grinned, leaning back against the headboard. “Yeah, I thought it’d be good for business. You know, stir up a little intrigue, get the fans talking.”

Rhea shook her head, chuckling in disbelief. “You know people make edits on TikTok about us all the time because of those moments you suggested?”

“Oh yeah! I repost them sometimes,” Jey said, his grin widening. “They’re hilarious. Plus, the fans love the tension.”

Rhea burst into laughter, nearly spilling her drink. “You’re too much.”

Their laughter echoed through the room, the whiskey adding warmth and ease to their conversation. They were in sync, the barriers between them slowly breaking down. Jey, still chuckling, watched Rhea closely as she talked, her guard down, her smile genuine. There was something about the way she looked tonight—comfortable, raw, and real—that made Jey’s heart race a little faster.

As the laughter died down, a silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jey's gaze lingered on Rhea longer than it should have. He couldn’t shake this feeling—the magnetic pull that had been growing stronger all night. His mind raced for a second, considering the weight of what he was about to do, but before he could overthink it, he leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft at first, almost tentative, testing the waters.

Rhea froze, her eyes wide with surprise. She hadn’t expected this. Her heart thudded in her chest, and for a moment, she pulled back, looking at Jey with a mixture of shock and confusion. “Jey…” she whispered, unsure of what to say.

His face immediately flushed with guilt, and he began to stammer. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

But before he could finish, Rhea leaned in and kissed him back. This time, it wasn’t tentative or soft. It was firm, filled with all the unspoken tension and curiosity that had been simmering between them. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened, both of them forgetting, if only for a moment, about everything else.

Jey was taken aback but didn’t pull away. He kissed her back just as fiercely, his hand gently cupping the back of her neck as they lost themselves in the moment. Time seemed to stop, the buzz from the whiskey mixing with the electric energy that now crackled between them.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, neither of them spoke right away. Rhea’s lips tingled from the kiss, and she stared at Jey, her mind racing.

“I didn’t…” Jey began again, his voice softer now, searching her face for any sign of regret. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just…”

Rhea shook her head, cutting him off. “Don’t apologize,” she whispered, still catching her breath. “I didn’t hate it.”

The tension in the room hung thick in the air. Jey didn't hesitate this time. He leaned in and kissed her again, more confidently, with a spark that had been waiting to ignite for far too long.

Rhea responded instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened.

What started as a slow, exploring kiss quickly became something more. The two of them got lost in the heat of the moment, their movements becoming feistier and more intense. Jey's hands roamed down her back, pulling her closer as their breathing grew heavier. Rhea's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as she shifted, pushing herself closer to him.

Jey kissed her with a passion he hadn't realized he was holding back, and Rhea matched it, pushing him back against the headboard as she climbed onto his lap. The room felt electric, their connection undeniable.

Between heated kisses, Jey murmured, "Do you want to stop?"

Rhea smirked against his lips, biting his bottom one playfully before kissing him again. "Good," he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Their lips crashed together again, the intensity building as their hands explored each other, tugging at clothes, gripping tighter, needing more. Every touch seemed to spark a new wave of desire, each kiss more heated than the last.

They were lost in the moment, the rest of the world fading away as their connection deepened with every second. Neither of them cared what this meant, or where it would go-they were living in the now, giving into the pull that had been drawing them together for so long.

Jey pulled back for a moment, his chest heaving as he looked at her. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and something deeper. Rhea only smiled before pulling him back into another fiery kiss, not ready to let go of the moment just yet.

—

Present Time.

Jey glanced down at his phone, confirming the flight details as the nail technician continued to work on his feet. He grimaced slightly when the technician scrubbed a bit too hard but quickly refocused on the task at hand. The two had managed to get a private session due to Trinity and Jon being the owner’s favorite wrestling couple duo. Rhea, seated next to him, was deep in conversation with her own technician about what shade of polish to choose.

"I’m thinking a deep red," Rhea said, turning to Jey for a moment. "What do you think?"

Jey barely looked up from his phone. "Yeah, sure, deep red sounds good," he replied absently, focused on securing their seats for the early flight.

Rhea rolled her eyes, clearly not satisfied with his half-hearted response. “You didn’t even look.”

Before Jey could defend himself, he received a confirmation email. "Got it," he announced, putting his phone down for the first time in the session. “Our flight’s at four a.m.”

Rhea's eyes widened in disbelief. “Four in the morning? You can’t be serious, Jey.”

He sighed, knowing her reaction was inevitable. “It’s the only time that works. The other flights are so late, we’d miss roll call.”

“That’s brutal,” she groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You know I hate mornings.”

Jey smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, but you’ll hate missing roll call even more.”

Rhea huffed but knew he was right. She looked back at her nail technician. “Guess I’ll need a coffee as dark as this polish.”

The technician laughed lightly, while Jey leaned over to glance at the color she’d chosen. “Deep red, huh? Good choice.”

Rhea shot him a playful glare. “Now you notice.”

As the nail technician finished with Jey, he stood up, flexing his toes slightly to shake off the stiffness. He pulled out some cash, handing it over with a polite smile. “Thanks, appreciate it,” he said, before turning to Rhea. “Do you want your lashes done too babe?” Rhea flashed a grin and nodded.

“Here,” Jey said, handing her more money. “For your lashes, for my toes and yours—and a tip for your tech.”

Rhea grinned, accepting the cash. “Always taking care of me,” she teased.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, his hand briefly resting on her shoulder. “I’ll be back soon. I saw a Footlocker, but first, I’m grabbing a smoothie.”

Rhea nodded, settling back into her chair as Jey made his way out of the salon. The afternoon sun greeted him as he stepped outside, the warm breeze feeling good against his skin. He scanned the plaza, spotting the Footlocker Rhea had mentioned, but his eyes were drawn to a nearby smoothie shop first.

“I could use something to drink,” he muttered to himself, walking toward the shop. The door chimed as he entered, the cool air and fresh scent of fruit instantly hitting him.

The place wasn’t too busy, just a few customers scattered around. Jey stepped up to the counter, browsing the menu for a second before deciding on a strawberry banana smoothie.

As he waited for his drink, he checked his phone, glancing at the time. Rhea still had a while to go with her lashes. Smirking to himself, he thought about how easy it was for her to get him to agree to these long beauty sessions. Then again, she always knew how to work him, especially with those pleading eyes.

When his smoothie arrived, he took a sip, savoring the refreshing taste. Now it was time to hit Footlocker.

Jey was halfway to Footlocker, sipping his smoothie, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning at the unfamiliar Orlando number. His first thought was that it might be one of his cousins—maybe Jon or someone else checking in. But as he swiped to answer, he quickly realized he was wrong.

The automated voice rang in his ear: “This is a collect call from the Orange County Jail. The inmate attempting to reach you is Matthew Adams.”

Jey’s grip on the phone tightened, his jaw clenching. Matt. His blood boiled at the sound of the name. Without hesitation, he accepted the call, his voice dripping with venom as he answered, “What the hell do you want?”

There was a brief silence on the other end before Matt’s voice came through, low and bitter. “I want to talk to Rhea.”

Jey’s anger flared. “You think after everything you did, you got the right to talk to her? You’re outta your damn mind.”

Matt’s voice raised in frustration. “She’s my wife, Jey!”

“She was,” Jey corrected, his voice steady but seething. “You don’t get to call her after you laid hands on her. You lost that right the moment you put her in that hospital bed.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt spat, his tone desperate. “You got her twisted in some shit thinking she yours when in reality she will never be yours for as long as I live.”

Jey’s nostrils flared. “Oh, I know more than enough. You’re lucky you’re behind bars, because if I ever saw you on the outside, you wouldn’t be standing long enough to explain anything.”

The tension crackled between them, but Jey wasn’t about to let Matt have any more control. He took a deep breath, calming his voice just enough. “You’re done. Stay out of her life, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. Jey ended the call, shoving the phone back into his pocket, his entire body humming with rage. He took a deep breath, trying to shake it off before heading into Footlocker, but the call lingered in his mind like a dark cloud.

Jey wandered through Footlocker, his eyes scanning the rows of shoes, but his mind was far from focused. The call with Matt had left him simmering. He pulled out his phone, quickly typing up a message to Jon.

Yo, I just got a call from Matt. Dude's trying to get in touch with Rhea.

He hesitated for a second before adding the next part.

Think I should talk to her about getting the divorce process started?

Jey sent the message and continued to browse, waiting for Jon’s reply. He wasn’t sure how to approach Rhea about it—especially with everything she’d been through. Bringing up Matt, especially after that call, could push her over the edge. But he also knew that Matt lurking in the background wasn’t helping anyone.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed with Jon’s response.

Damn, for real? That dude just doesn’t quit. You should definitely talk to her. But tread lightly, man. She’s been through hell. Maybe wait until she’s in a good headspace before bringing it up.

Jey nodded to himself, texting back.

Yeah, I hear you. I don’t want to push her, but she needs to get that chapter closed.

Jon replied quickly.

Exactly. Just remind her you’ve got her back, whatever she decides. But yeah, don’t rush it. Last thing she needs is more pressure.

Jey sighed, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He hated that Rhea had to deal with this, but Jon was right. The timing had to be perfect, and Jey would make sure he approached it carefully.

Alright, I’ll wait for the right moment. Thx.

With the conversation with Jon wrapped up, Jey shoved his phone back into his pocket. He tried to focus on picking out some shoes, but his thoughts were already on how and when he’d bring it up to Rhea. He’d protect her, no matter what it took—he just needed to make sure she was ready.

After sending the text to Jon, Jey continued to browse through Footlocker, his mind still on the conversation. He picked out a pair of sleek black sneakers that caught his eye and decided they’d be a perfect addition to his wardrobe.

Once he had what he wanted, he made his way to the checkout, feeling satisfied. After paying, he stepped outside and headed to explore a few more stores. As he strolled through the shopping center, he stopped at Zumiez, Nike, and Tilly’s and a couple of more shops, finally arriving at Polo Ralph Lauren.

Just as he was about to head inside, he spotted a store called Linked. A big ad in the window read, Jewelry. You. Personalized. Forever!, Intrigued, Jey leaned in to look, but the lights were off, and a "Closed" sign hung on the door.

Just as he turned to leave, a bubbly woman approached with a warm smile. “Hey there! Were you interested in something from Linked?”

Jey turned back, curious. “Yeah, I was just checking it out.”

The woman’s smile widened. “We do permanent jewelry—bracelets that you can personalize. Interested?”

“Definitely,” he replied, feeling a spark of excitement.

“Come on in!” she said, unlocking the door. “I’ll keep the sign on ‘Closed’ to respect your privacy. I know who you are, but I promise I won’t bother you with that.”

Inside, the store had a cozy, inviting atmosphere. She guided him to a display showcasing an array of bracelets. “So, what’s the special occasion?”

Jey glanced at the elegant designs, thinking about Rhea. “I’m looking for matching couples' bracelets.”

“That’s so sweet!” she exclaimed. “We have some great options that can be personalized with initials or special dates.”

“How long does the process take?” he asked, intrigued.

“It’s all done in-store,” she explained. “We’ll size the bracelets and make any custom adjustments right here. It usually takes about 20 minutes.”

Jey nodded, impressed. “Sounds easy. I’d love to get something special for my girlfriend.”

As the store clerk explained that Rhea would need to be there for the sizing, Jey felt a flutter of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. “She’ll need to be here so we can get the right fit and laser the clasp,” the clerk said with a smile, clearly accustomed to couples wanting something special.

Jey nodded, realizing that this was more than just picking out a piece of jewelry. It was about creating something meaningful together—a symbol of their bond amid the chaos they had faced.

“Got it. Excuse me for a second, my girlfriend should be finishing up her lashes.” Jey said, stepping aside to pull out his phone. It felt like time had dragged on since he last saw Rhea. Just as he was about to call her, his phone buzzed with an incoming call from her.

“Where are you?” Rhea asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

Jey glanced outside and spotted her walking out of the salon across the shopping center. “I’m right here! Just outside,” he replied, waving her down.

When she saw him, her face lit up, and she walked over, radiating warmth and excitement. Jey took her hand, feeling an electric connection as he led her into the store.

“We’re getting matching permanent bracelets,” he announced, his heart racing at the thought.

Her eyes widened with joy. “I’m so down!”

Jey smiled, feeling the weight of the moment. This wasn’t just about the bracelets; it was a way to celebrate their journey together. Rhea leaned in and kissed him, her happiness palpable.

The clerk chuckled, watching their interaction. “This is why I love my job,” she said with a grin. “Seeing couples so happy together is the best part.”

As they browsed the display of elegant bracelets, Jey felt a surge of emotion. He knew how important this was for Rhea, especially after everything she had endured. This small act represented more than a fashion choice; it was a promise, a commitment to stand by each other through thick and thin.

When Rhea reached for a bracelet adorned with simplicity, her fingers lingered, and Jey couldn’t help but admire her. “This one feels right,” she said, her voice filled with certainty.

“Yeah, it really does,” he replied, envisioning their names engraved side by side. This moment felt monumental—a healing experience, a way to reclaim joy after so much pain.

As the clerk prepared to size the bracelets, Jey took Rhea’s hand, their fingers intertwining naturally. “This is just the beginning,” he said, his voice steady. “No matter what happens, we’re in this together.”

Rhea smiled up at him, her heart full. “I know. This means so much to me.”

With each passing moment, as they discussed designs and personalization, the emotional weight of their journey hung in the air, but so did the promise of new beginnings. This simple act of getting matching bracelets was not just about jewelry; it was a tangible reminder of their love—a bond that would help them navigate whatever challenges lay ahead.

Jey and Rhea had settled on a thin 14k rope-style chain with a gold name bar, feeling it perfectly encapsulated their bond. When the store clerk asked what they wanted engraved, Jey confidently said, “Demi Fatu,” while Rhea added, “Joshua Samuel Fatu,” her voice filled with warmth.

The clerk smiled, clearly pleased with their choices, and began the engraving process on Rhea’s bracelet first. Rhea watched intently, her excitement contagious. When the clerk held up the finished piece before lasering the clasp, Rhea’s eyes lit up. “I love it!” she exclaimed, tracing the letters with her fingers, as Jey leaned in to kiss her cheek, feeling grateful for this moment.

Jey looked at his while it was being done on his wrist and as he felt the weight of the future represented in that small piece of jewelry, he couldn’t help but smile at Rhea.

“Are you both satisfied?” the clerk asked after finishing Jey’s bracelet.

“Absolutely,” they both replied in unison, smiles plastered on their faces.

Jey paid for the bracelets and the clerk informed them about coming back, “If you have any issues or need cleaning, just call or head back over here, okay?”

With the bracelets securely on their wrists, Jey and Rhea climbed into Jon’s car. “I’m exhausted,” Jey admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Me too. I just want to go home,” Rhea replied, her fatigue evident. Jey checked in, “Do you need anything last minute?”

“No, I’m good,” Rhea said, leaning back in her seat, feeling content but ready for a quiet evening.

Once they arrived at Jon and Trinity’s house, Jey led Rhea inside. The sight that greeted them was cozy; Damian was sleeping on the couch, while Jon and Trinity were cuddled up on the other side, both peacefully slumbering. Jey glanced at the clock—it read 3:53.

“Looks like we’re the last ones up,” he whispered to Rhea with a smile. They quietly made their way upstairs to the guest bedroom, closing the door slightly behind them.

Jey set his bags down on the bed, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. The day had been long, but it had also been filled with love and new beginnings. He turned to Rhea, who was looking at him, a soft smile on her face. “I’m glad we did this,” he said, feeling the weight of the bracelets on his wrist.

“Me too,” Rhea replied, her lips giving him a quick kiss. In that moment, everything felt right.

Jey laid back on the bed, letting out a relaxed sigh as Rhea rummaged through the bags of clothes Trinity had managed to retrieve from the police station. She pulled out some of her gear, taking comfort in familiar items. “Hey, are we coming back to Jon and Trinity’s after RAW on Monday, or do you think we’ll go somewhere else?” she asked, glancing over at him.

Jey propped himself up on his elbows, considering the week ahead. “I want us to go to Pensacola to meet with the realtor about the rental on Friday,” he explained. “But I’d like to see my kids first after RAW.”

Rhea nodded, and Jey continued, “What if we drive to San Francisco right after RAW? We can get a room there for the night, then spend time with the kids on Tuesday and Wednesday. After that, we could head to Pensacola together on Thursday and stay at Jon and Trinity’s for the weekend.”

Rhea frowned slightly, contemplating his plan. “That’s a lot of traveling, Jey. Are you sure we can manage all of that?”

Seeing her hesitation, Jey quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not mentally prepared for the kids yet. If it feels overwhelming, you could stay with Damian and Kayden while I spend time with them. I’ll come back for you on Thursday for our flight to Florida.”

Rhea shook her head. “But Damian and Kayden are heading to Indiana right after RAW. I don’t want to be alone.”

Jey furrowed his brow, trying to come up with alternatives. “Okay, what if we push the meeting about the rental off until next week? You could come back here after the show, and I’ll meet you on Friday.”

Rhea considered this, the idea sounding more manageable. “That could work,” she replied, her expression softening.

“See? We can make this work,” Jey said with a smile, relieved to find a solution that felt right for both of them. “Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

With a renewed sense of hope, Rhea nodded, grateful for his understanding. They both knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

—

Trinity woke up from her nap, a sleepy smile on her face until she felt Jon's hand firmly squeezing her butt. "Really?" she muttered, still groggy, and lightly swatted his hand away before stretching. Jon let out a lazy chuckle but didn't bother to open his eyes.

"Pasta for dinner, maybe?" Jon mumbled, barely awake, his voice heavy with sleep.

Trinity rubbed her eyes and yawned, already thinking about her favorite creamy pasta recipe. "Yeah, I'll get on it after my shower."

She headed to the bathroom, hoping a quick shower would wake her up. As the warm water cascaded down, she felt herself shake off the sleep. Dinner was on her mind-something hearty and comforting. Jon loved her pasta dishes, and she was more than happy to make something simple and delicious.

Fresh out of the shower and feeling a bit more energized, Trinity threw on some comfortable lounge clothes and made her way into the kitchen. She pulled out all the ingredients for the creamy pasta sauce, but when she unscrewed the cap from the heavy cream and took a quick sniff, she gagged. "Ugh, this is sour," she muttered, holding the carton at arm's length.

"Jon!" she called, stepping out of the kitchen. "I need you to go grab some heavy cream from the store. This one's gone bad."

From the couch, Jon groaned loudly, stretching out as if the idea of leaving the couch was the worst thing in the world. "Babe, I really don't wanna go. Ask Jey and Rhea. They're right upstairs."

Trinity rolled her eyes, throwing a dish towel over her shoulder. "Typical," she muttered under her breath. She wasn't really in the mood to argue with him, so she sighed and made her way up the stairs.

As she approached the guest room where Jey and Rhea were staying, Trinity noticed the door was slightly ajar. Not hearing a any sounds that would reflect otherwise, she leaned closer and pushed open the door. "Hey, Jey, could you maybe run to the store for me?" she called out while nudging the door open a bit more.

The words caught in her throat as the door swung open wider. Her eyes widened in complete shock. There, on the bed, was Rhea on top of Jey, her bra flung to the side, and Jey's face practically buried in her chest. The sight hit her like a freight train, and before she could even process what she was looking at, a scream tore out of her throat. The couple had embarrassment over their faces as Rhea tried to get off Jey to go for the comforter while covering her chest.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" she shrieked, the door swinging wildly as she scrambled to close it. She slammed it shut so hard it echoed through the hallway.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she stumbled backward, her face burning bright red. "Oh my God. Oh my God. What did I just see?!"

She stood there frozen for a moment, her mind reeling with embarrassment. "Did I just... walk in on that?" she muttered to herself in disbelief, her hands covering her burning face. Her heart raced, and her stomach twisted in knots, trying to block out the image that was now seared into her brain.

Jon, hearing her scream from downstairs, immediately sat up, confused. "Trin? What happened?"

Trinity hurried down the stairs, her face flushed with horror. "Don't ask! You really don't wanna know!"

Jon frowned, his curiosity piqued. "What did you see?"

"I'm not even gonna explain it," Trinity said, still breathless, waving her hands in front of her as if she could somehow erase the memory. "Just know I'm never going up there again!"

Jon's brow furrowed as he glanced at the stairs, then back at his wife. "Wait... what did YOU-"

Trinity threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

"I walked in on them! And let's just say, Jey's face was not where it's supposed to be!"

Jon blinked, then snorted as the realization hit him. He tried to stifle his laughter, but it burst out uncontrollably. "Wait, you walked in on Jey and Rhea-"

"Don't laugh!" Trinity cut him off, mortified. "I'll never unsee that, Jon! I'll never unsee it!"

But Jon couldn't help himself. Damian even joined in, laughing his ass. He was practically doubled over, his laughter echoing through the house. "I told you to ask them!"

Trinity glared at him, flustered beyond words.

“At least you didn’t see them doing the deed..” Damian snickered.

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect to walk into... that!" She shuddered, throwing the dish towel at Jon as he continued laughing. "You're going to the store! I'm not asking anyone for anything ever again!"

Upstairs, Rhea frantically tried to put her bra back on, her face burning with embarrassment. Her hands fumbled with the straps as she muttered, “Oh my God, that was so humiliating.” She finally managed to snap the bra into place, turning to Jey, who was stifling a laugh but failing miserably.

"Don’t you dare laugh!" she warned, swatting him on the shoulder. "This is your fault too, you know!"

Jey couldn’t help it anymore; a chuckle escaped him as he rubbed his shoulder where Rhea had hit him. "C’mon, babe, you know Trinity’s probably laughing about it right now." He leaned back, still grinning. "I mean, how many people can say they’ve been walked in on like that?"

Rhea groaned, covering her face. "I blame you.”

Jey stood up, adjusting his shirt with a smirk. "I better go check on the situation. She probably sent Jon to the store already." He winked at Rhea, who just shook her head, still mortified.

As Jey made his way downstairs, he could hear the sounds of muffled laughter. He rounded the corner and caught sight of Trinity animatedly telling Jon what had just happened, her face still red but her lips twitching as if she were fighting off laughter. Jon, on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hold it in—he was practically doubled over in laughter.

Damian was sitting on the arm of the couch, his arms crossed, but the amused grin on his face was unmistakable. The second Jey entered the room, all eyes turned to him.

Damian was the first to crack, letting out a loud laugh as he pointed at Jey. "Bro, you seriously can’t keep your hands to yourself for five minutes, can you?"

Jon caught his breath long enough to chime in, his voice thick with laughter. "You owe Trinity big time, man! She’s traumatized!"

Jey’s smirk only grew as he looked around at his friends, though his eyes landed on Trinity, who was still looking away, clearly trying her best not to meet his gaze.

"You alright, Trin?" Jey teased, raising an eyebrow. "Didn’t mean to scar you for life."

Trinity’s face turned redder, and she muttered under her breath, "I’m never looking you in the eye again." She folded her arms, still refusing to face him, her lips tightly pressed together to suppress the smile threatening to break through.

Jey leaned against the doorframe, shaking his head. "Hey, you didn’t even knock..."

Jon looked at Trinity and laughed even more, “Remember our failed quickie in the bus…. Now you know how it feels..” Jon said trying to breathe.

Damian slapped Jey on the back, still laughing. "Clearly Trinity you need some etiquette… clearly!" He then raised a hand, mimicking the moment. "I can’t believe she caught you guys like that. Should’ve locked the door, man!"

“We didn’t think anyone would just walk in!” Jey defended himself.

Jon chimed in, grinning, "Yeah, dude, at least give the rest of us a warning next time. Not everyone needs to see that side of you!"

Jey shrugged, unbothered, but shot a playful glance at Trinity. "I think you’ll survive, Trin. No lasting trauma, right?"

Trinity finally let out a small giggle despite herself but quickly cleared her throat, pretending to be serious. "You owe me for that one, Jey. Big time. And next time, lock the door!"

Jey winked, still grinning. "Noted."

—

Trinity finished serving the pasta, taking her seat next to Jon at the head of the table. Everyone gathered around—Jey, Rhea, Damian, and of course, Jon—reaching out to join hands. As they did, the mood in the room shifted slightly from playful to heartfelt, the warmth of family and friendship filling the air.

"Alright, Jon, lead us in prayer," Trinity said softly, squeezing his hand.

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Heavenly Father, we come to you with grateful hearts tonight. Thank you for giving me the strength to face my fears, especially when it came to donating blood for Rhea. You helped me realize what family really means, and I’m thankful for the path you’ve led me on. Thank you for bringing Rhea into our lives and showing me that family isn’t just blood but the people we choose to stand by."

Rhea’s eyes softened at Jon’s words, feeling a surge of emotion wash over her. The acceptance from Jon meant more than she could express, especially after everything.

"And Lord," Jon continued, with a small smirk on his face, "I also want to thank you for reminding my wife to knock on doors from now on—just to avoid any more awkward situations."

Everyone at the table, except Rhea, burst out into quiet giggles. Jey chuckled beside her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, while Damian struggled to keep his composure.

Rhea, however, turned beet red, looking down at her plate, trying her best to hide her embarrassment. Jon glanced at her with a wink, clearly enjoying the light-hearted teasing. "In your name, we pray, Amen."

"Amen," everyone echoed in unison, and with that, the sound of forks and plates filled the room as everyone dug into the meal.

Rhea, still blushing slightly, glanced over at Jey, who gave her a reassuring smile. "You alright?" he whispered, nudging her.

She nodded, grateful for the moment of normalcy after everything they’d been through. "Yeah," she whispered back, smiling softly. "I’m good."

As the conversation picked up around the table, it felt as though the tension from the day had melted away, replaced by laughter, jokes, and the feeling of family. Even with the teasing, Rhea knew she was surrounded by people who cared deeply for her—and that was all that mattered.

After they finished their meal, with the warmth of family conversations lingering in the air, Trinity stood up to refill everyone’s glasses with wine, except for Rhea who opted for a sparkling apple juice. The sound of laughter still echoed around the room, the gentle clinking of glasses adding to the comforting atmosphere. Jey sat back, his arm draped around Rhea, feeling the weight of the past week begin to lift. He glanced at her, then at the table, deciding it was the right moment.

“So, I’ve been thinkin’ about new beginnings,” Jey started, lifting his wrist and showing off his bracelet. Rhea smiled shyly, doing the same, their matching gold bracelets glimmering in the soft light. “Me and Rhea decided to make things a little more official.” His voice was filled with pride and certainty, the weight of his words sinking in as the room fell silent.

Trinity and Jon shared a knowing smile, and Damian clapped Jey on the back, a playful grin on his face. “About time,” Damian teased, though there was a real warmth in his voice.

Jey chuckled, “Yeah, yeah. And I wanna let y’all know I’ve been looking at places for us in Pensacola. Found a rental that’ll put us close to Jon and the family.”

Jon nodded, clearly pleased, while Trinity beamed at the idea of having Rhea and Jey nearby. Damian, never missing an opportunity to lighten the mood, leaned back and grinned. “Looks like I’m gonna have to find a place out there too. Kayden’s been talkin’ about it for a minute, so I’ll just blame y’all when I start moving boxes.”

The room burst into laughter, but the humor couldn’t mask the deeper emotion behind the moment. It wasn’t just about moving to Pensacola or finding a place to live—it was about something much more meaningful. Jey was making it clear that he was committed, not just to Rhea, but to building a future together. And more than that, he wanted his family to be a part of it.

Jey’s tone grew more serious as he looked around the table, his expression softening. “I wanna thank you all for being so understanding,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “For accepting me and Rhea, for supporting us. I know things have been crazy, and this isn’t how I expected my week to end, but... I’m glad it did.”

Rhea’s heart swelled as she listened to Jey speak. His words meant everything to her. Despite the turmoil, the ups and downs, the unexpected twists—there was something solid between them now. Something unbreakable. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she could breathe, like she wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders alone.

For Jey, this was more than just a declaration of love—it was an affirmation. He had spent so much time feeling torn between duty, love, and guilt. But now, surrounded by the people he loved, he felt free. Free to love Rhea openly. Free to plan a future without secrets. Free to embrace this new chapter of his life without fear or hesitation. And knowing that his family not only supported but accepted them both made it all the more real.

Jon, sensing the depth of Jey’s words, raised his glass. “Uce’,” he said with a gentle smile, “you don’t have to thank us for accepting Rhea. She’s family. Always.” He turned to Rhea and nodded, his voice filled with warmth. “You’re one of us now. You don’t need anyone else’s approval. You got ours.”

Rhea blinked back tears, deeply moved by Jon’s words. This was the first time in months that she truly felt like she belonged somewhere, like she wasn’t an outsider looking in. And hearing that from Jon—the man who had stood by his brother through everything—meant the world to her.

Trinity, ever the emotional one, squeezed Rhea’s hand. “We love you, Rhea. You’ve been through hell, and you’re still here, still standing strong. That says everything we need to know.”

Rhea’s heart thudded in her chest as she looked around the table at the faces of those who had become her family. It wasn’t just about her and Jey anymore. It was about something bigger. She had found a place where she was loved and accepted—not for what she had been through, but for who she was.

Taking a deep breath, Rhea knew it was time to share her news. She glanced at Jey, her fingers tightening around his, and then she spoke, her voice steady but filled with emotion. “While I was getting my lashes done today,” she began, her gaze locked with Jey’s, “I made a call.”

The room went silent as everyone waited, sensing that something important was about to be said.

“I called the lawyer WWE put on retainer for me... and I started the divorce proceedings with Matt.”

Jey’s eyes widened, the shock quickly giving way to overwhelming joy. His entire face lit up as the reality of her words sunk in. “You serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he needed to hear her say it again just to believe it.

Rhea nodded, a small, relieved smile playing on her lips. “Yeah, Jey. It’s done. I’m starting fresh—with you.”

The emotion that flashed across Jey’s face was raw and unguarded. He felt like his heart was about to burst. In one swift movement, he pulled Rhea into his arms, hugging her tightly as if he never wanted to let go. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered against her ear, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so happy. You don’t know what this means to me.”

Everyone around the table began to cheer, raising their glasses in celebration. Damian grinned, lifting his glass. “To fresh starts and new beginnings,” he toasted, his voice filled with genuine happiness for the couple.

Jon clinked his glass against Jey’s. “This is it, bruh. This is your moment. I’m proud of you.”

Trinity, tearing up, reached across the table to grab Rhea’s hand again. “We’re so happy for you, Rhea. This is your time.”

As the laughter and joy filled the room, Rhea couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. The weight of the past few months was finally lifting, and in its place was something she had longed for—hope. She had made the call, ended her marriage, and now she was free to build a future with Jey. And more importantly, they were doing it together, with the love and support of a family who truly cared.

For Jey, it was more than just a fresh start. It was the beginning of the life he had always wanted. One filled with love, with the woman he adored, and the unwavering support of his family. In that moment, surrounded by the people who mattered most, Jey knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. Stronger than ever.

There was a knock at the door, and Damian, eager to stretch his legs, volunteered to answer it as Trinity and Jon leaned closer, wanting to admire their new bracelets. When Damian swung the door open, his face fell in surprise. Standing there was Takecia, flanked by Jey's two sons: the younger, Jeyce, and the older, Jaciyah.

“Jey!” Damian shouted, urgency creeping into his voice.

Jey's heart sank as he stood up, he didn’t like the way Damian sounded, Jey walked to the living room and stopped in his tracks, dread settling in his stomach at the sight of Takecia with their children. Jeyce rushed forward, throwing his arms around Jey’s waist, a warm embrace that momentarily softened the sting of the unexpected visit. But Jaciyah lingered back, his face twisted in an expression of disappointment and anger.

As Jon, Trinity and Rhea emerged from the dining room, surprised by the sudden appearance, Takecia wasted no time. “I needed some time alone,” she said flatly, her eyes darting between Jey and Rhea. “And since you’re playing house, the kids can stay with their dad and his new much younger girlfriend.”

The comment pierced Rhea, a reminder of the age gap that loomed between her and Jey. He was 39, while she had barely crossed into her late twenties. It stung, and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

“Please, don’t be harsh,” Jey implored, but Takecia raised her hand to silence him.

Looking past Jey, she addressed Trinity directly, “I’ll be back on Saturday to pick up both of them, Naomi.” Using Trinity’s stage name felt like a calculated move, a sign that she was distancing herself from the Fatu family entirely.

Jey tried to reason with her. “Is there any way we can make this easier?”

Takecia shook her head. “Just sign your name after the six-month waiting period,” she replied, her tone clipped and final. Without another word, she kiss her boys goodbye, her demeanor resolute as she turned to leave.

Jey felt the weight of her words settle in his chest as she walked away. The atmosphere in the house shifted, leaving a palpable silence. Rhea stood frozen, emotions swirling inside her and finally tears welling up in her eyes. She turned on her heel and went upstairs, seeking refuge from this moment.

“Rhea, wait!” Trinity called after her, but Rhea didn’t look back. “I’ll go check on her..” Trinity said and Damian followed her upstairs as well.

Once she was gone, Jey faced his children, uncertainty etched on his features. Jon, ever the fun uncle, stepped in, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, how about we play some WWE 2K24?” he suggested with a grin.

Jaciyah glared at his father, the resentment simmering just below the surface. “No,” he said curtly, avoiding Jey's gaze as he stormed toward Jon’s son’s room and slammed the door behind him.

The sound echoed in the hallway, leaving Jey standing there, feeling more isolated than ever. Jeyce looked up at Jon, a mixture of confusion and longing in his eyes. “Can we play?” he asked softly, breaking the heavy silence.

“Yeah, buddy,” Jon replied, forcing a smile. He knelt down to meet his nephew’s gaze. “Let’s have some fun, just us two for now.”

As they moved toward the gaming console, Jey couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was just the beginning of a complicated new chapter, one filled with challenges he never expected to face. And as the sounds of the game filled the room, he could only hope that they would find their way through it together.

—

Rhea sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face as Trinity and Damian hovered nearby, their expressions filled with concern. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on her chest, and she felt as if everything she had been dreading was finally crashing down.

“I just… I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for his kids,” Rhea sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “What if they don’t accept me? What if they see me as just the ‘new girlfriend’?”

Trinity moved closer, gently rubbing Rhea’s back. “You have to understand, it takes time. I’m a stepmom too, and it’s not easy, but you’re not just some outsider. You’re someone who loves their dad.”

“But the age difference,” Rhea whispered, shaking her head. “Jey’s nearly 40, and I’m barely going to be 28. What if they think I’m too young to be taken seriously?”

“Rhea,” Damian interjected softly, “Jey isn’t with you because of your age. He loves you for who you are, not just as his partner but as a person. You bring something special to his life.”

Trinity nodded vigorously. “Exactly. Love doesn’t have an age limit. You two share a connection that goes beyond that. And believe me, kids can see when someone genuinely cares for their parent.”

Rhea wiped her eyes, taking a shaky breath. “But what if I mess it up? What if I can’t be the person they need?”

“You won’t know unless you try,” Damian replied, his voice steady. “Kids are resilient. They’ll adjust, especially if they see how much Jey loves you. That’s what matters most.”

Trinity chimed in, “And you’re not alone in this. Jey will be there to guide you. It’s a journey for both of you, and as long as you communicate and support each other, you’ll find your way.”

Rhea looked between them, the warmth of their encouragement slowly calming her racing thoughts. “Do you really think he loves me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Without a doubt,” Trinity assured her. “He lights up when he talks about you. You’ve made a profound impact on his life.”

As Rhea pondered their words, a flicker of hope ignited within her. “I want to be there for him and the kids. I just need to believe I can do this.”

“You can,” Damian said firmly. “It won’t be easy, but love is worth fighting for. Just remember, Jey chose you, and that’s a huge testament to how he feels.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her heart beginning to mend. “Thank you both. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Anytime,” Trinity said, offering a reassuring smile. “We’re here for you, every step of the way.” Trinity hugged her newly found friend and Rhea hugged her back.

-

As Jey tucked his youngest son, Jeyce, into bed, he felt a familiar warmth wash over him, the kind that only comes from being a father. He leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on Jeyce's forehead, whispering a soft "goodnight." But when he turned to Jaciyah, his heart sank a little.

"Goodnight, Jaciyah," he said, but his son didn’t respond. Instead, Jaciyah simply put on his AirPods and turned his back to Jey, engrossed in his own world.

Jey sighed as he closed the door behind him, a mixture of frustration and sadness lingering in the air. He walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, hoping to find some solace. As he entered, he saw Rhea lying on the bed, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face as The Great Gatsby played quietly in the background.

She paused the movie, looking up at him. Jey's breath caught in his throat; she looked so peaceful yet so distant. "Hey," he said awkwardly, "I’m going to shower."

Rhea nodded without a word, her gaze drifting back to the screen. Jey felt the weight of unspoken words hang between them. He grabbed his clothes, the fabric feeling heavy in his hands as he made his way to the bathroom.

The shower felt like both a blessing and a curse. The warm water cascaded over him, washing away the stress of the day, but his mind remained restless. Thoughts of Jaciyah’s coldness swirled with the earlier tension of the night—the confrontation with his soon to be ex wife, the unacceptable weight creeping in, and the undeniable connection he felt with Rhea.

As he lathered shampoo into his hair, Jey couldn’t shake the feeling that his family was teetering on a precipice. He thought about how Jaciyah was shutting him out and how much he wished he could bridge that gap. Then there was Rhea—her strength, her vulnerability, the way she made him feel seen in a world where he often felt lost.

After a few moments of contemplation, he rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, the steam fogging up the mirror. He wiped it clear and looked at his reflection, trying to gather the courage to face Rhea again. He wrapped a towel around his waist, took a deep breath, and made his way back into the bedroom.

Rhea had resumed the movie, but the atmosphere was charged with unspoken tension. He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of the silence. “You okay?” he asked, breaking the stillness.

Rhea paused the movie again and turned to him, her expression unreadable. “Just tired,” she replied softly, but Jey could sense there was more beneath the surface.

“Want to talk about it?” he offered, hoping to peel back the layers.

She hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. “What’s there to say? Things are complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Jey pressed gently, wanting to understand but afraid of what he might hear.

Rhea sighed, looking away. “You know how it is, Jey. We have our pasts, our families… it’s not just us.”

Jey felt his chest tighten. “I get that. But I want to figure this out. I want to be here for you and for Jaciyah and Jeyce.”

Rhea turned to him, her gaze intense. She couldn’t say anything.

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “But I can’t do it alone.”

For a moment, they were caught in each other's eyes, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavily in the air. Jey reached out, brushing his fingers against hers. “Let’s not give up on each other, okay?”

Rhea looked down at their hands, her expression softening slightly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jey felt a flicker of hope as they sat together in the dim light, the movie forgotten. Maybe they could find their way back, piece by piece, despite the complications that surrounded them.

—

As Jey and Rhea settled into bed, Jey found himself wide awake, thoughts swirling around his head like leaves caught in a gust of wind. He envisioned the perfect wedding, with his sons standing beside him, a picture of unity and love. He held onto the hope that Jaciyah would eventually come around, bridging the gap that had formed between them.

Before he knew it, the shrill sound of his alarm shattered the quiet, signaling 2:25 AM. Rhea groaned softly, and Jey closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He knew he would have to catch up on sleep during the flight. Leaning over, he planted a gentle kiss on Rhea's forehead, coaxing her awake.

She yawned, stretching slightly before sitting up. Jey smiled, his heart lifting at the sight of her. They shuffled to the bathroom together, brushing their teeth in companionable silence. Jey quickly splashed some water in his hair, while Rhea combed through her short locks, both preparing for the long day ahead.

Once they finished, they grabbed their last toiletries and headed back to the bedroom to pack them in their bags. Rhea threw on some sweatpants and a hoodie, and Jey did the same, feeling comforted by the cozy attire.

“I’m going to wake up Jon to drive us to the airport,” Jey said, glancing at Rhea.

She nodded, still half-asleep, and slipped on her black crocs. Jey left the guest bedroom to check on Damian.

As he descended the stairs, he found Damian already awake, scrolling through his phone, packed and ready. “You’re all set?” Jey asked.

“Yeah, just waiting on you guys,” Damian replied, looking up with a grin.

“Good. I’m going to get Jon,” Jey said before heading back upstairs. He approached Jon and Trinity’s door, knocking softly. After a moment, he knocked again, then nudged the door open. Jon was sprawled across the bed, deeply asleep.

“Jon, wake up,” Jey said, nudging him again.

Jon turned over, groaning. “What time is it?”

“Time to take us to the airport,” Jey replied, his tone light but firm.

Jon sighed but managed to sit up, rubbing his eyes. “Fine, give me a minute.”

He quickly threw on a jacket and some slide sandals, looking like he was still in a daze. Jey chuckled to himself, feeling the camaraderie of their morning routine.

Once Jon was ready, Jey opened the guest bedroom door again, calling to Rhea. “Come on, let’s go!”

Rhea soon joined them, and together they made their way downstairs. Jon climbed into Trinity’s Escalade, and soon Rhea, Damian, and Jon were all settled in the car, heading towards the airport.

As the city lights faded behind them, Jey felt a sense of determination settle in his chest. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them, one step at a time. With Rhea by his side and the hope of a future together, he knew they would find their way.

Jon pulled up to the airport drop-off lane, Jey noticed the early morning quietness—only a few other travelers milling about. The low hum of the airport echoed around them, creating a peaceful ambiance. Damian hopped out of the car, grabbing their bags from the trunk, while Jey turned to Jon.

“Hey, just a heads up, Rhea and I will be back tomorrow around 4 AM. Can you pick us up?” Jey asked, knowing it would be an early morning for Jon.

“Sure thing, man. Safe travels!” Jon replied, offering a reassuring smile.

Jey glanced at the time on his phone: 3:16 AM. The urgency of their schedule set in, and he quickly ushered Rhea and Damian toward their gate. They moved through the terminal, the adrenaline from their early start pushing them forward.

Once they reached the gate, Jey felt a wave of relief. They boarded the plane, and he was thrilled to see they had first-class tickets again. The luxury of being able to recline and relax felt like a gift after the whirlwind of the past few days.

As the plane began its descent and the safety announcements played, Jey turned to Rhea, who had already settled into her seat, her eyes heavy with sleep. He leaned in and kissed her goodnight, feeling a sense of warmth and connection that eased his mind.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, watching her drift off.

He then reclined his own seat, feeling the tension of the day slip away as he closed his eyes. The gentle hum of the engines and the soft vibrations of the plane lulled him into a comfortable sleep. For the first time in a while, Jey felt hopeful about what lay ahead. The day would bring new challenges, but for now, he surrendered to the soothing embrace of slumber, knowing that together, they would face whatever came their way.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Skin

---

‐‐‐

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, angst, bitter ex, major friend group dynamic shift

Category:F/M

Fandom: Outerbanks (OBX), (Netflix TV series)

Relationships: JJ Maybank x f reader

Summary: Kie's slowly getting under your skin especially when you're JJ's new girlfriend

Based on recent experiences, and the song skin by Sabrina Carpenter has been stuck in my head for like 6 months on top of the recent experiences...

---

**"Maybe we could’ve been friends, if I met you in another life…"**

The thought crosses my mind as I stand in the middle of the living room, fiddling with my phone, and waiting for JJ to come back from the kitchen. The memory of Kiara's expression when she found out about us is still fresh, lingering like a bitter taste I can’t wash away. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but I guess things never go as planned.

“You okay?” JJ's voice pulls me from my thoughts as he enters the room, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He’s balancing two mugs of coffee in his hands, making his way toward me like everything in the world is perfectly fine.

I nod, forcing a smile back. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He hands me one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact is warm, grounding me in the moment. "About Kie?"

I glance away. He knows me too well.

“It’s hard not to think about her,” I admit, sitting down on the worn-out couch. “She was—no, she *is* my friend. I hate that it feels like I’m betraying her.”

JJ sighs and sits next to me, his arm resting casually behind my shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She’ll come around. It’s just gonna take time.”

**"I’m happy and you hate it, hate it, oh…"**

I wish I could believe him. It’s not that I don’t want to be with JJ—it’s that being with him comes with a whole mess of complications I didn’t see coming. Kie and JJ had always had this unspoken connection. At least, that’s what everyone thought, including me. And then I fell for him. Hard.

Now, it’s like every glance from Kiara is a reminder that I’ve taken something she didn’t realize she wanted until it was too late.

“I don’t think she’s ever going to be okay with it,” I confess quietly. “With us.”

JJ chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

His words make my heart flutter, even though the doubt still lingers in the back of my mind. I know he means it—he’s serious about us, about this. But how do I move forward when the person I care about most next to JJ feels like I’m rubbing this relationship in her face?

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin, while he’s on mine."**

I take a deep breath and lean into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I want to focus on him, on this moment, but the guilt weighs heavy on my chest.

“You think she’ll really get over it?” I ask softly, not really expecting an answer but needing to hear him say it anyway.

JJ turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against my temple. “Eventually. Or maybe not. But either way, I’m not giving this up.” His voice is firm, and I can feel the truth in it.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to silence the doubt. There’s something undeniably special between us—something that wasn’t there with anyone else. And maybe that’s why it feels so complicated. Maybe that’s why Kiara reacted the way she did when she found out.

**"I wish you knew that even you can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in…"**

“It’s not just Kie,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “It’s everything. The looks. The comments.”

JJ pulls back slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. “You mean from the others? John B? Pope?”

I nod. “They keep acting like this is something we should’ve told them about sooner. Like we should’ve asked for permission or something.”

JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s complicated with the Pogues, but at the end of the day, they’re gonna support us. Maybe they’re just weirded out because they didn’t see it coming. But who cares? This is about *us*, not them.”

His words are reassuring, but the sting of Kiara’s reaction still sits heavy in my chest. When she found out, the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t said much, but the silence spoke volumes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so torn between two people in my life.

“You don’t think I’m a terrible friend, do you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

JJ tilts his head, his expression softening as he looks at me. “No. You’re not a terrible friend. You just…fell in love. And sometimes, that happens in ways people don’t expect.”

**"And I’m not asking you to let it go, but you’ve been telling your side, so I’ll be telling mine."*

It’s true. Kiara hasn’t exactly been shy about expressing her feelings on the matter, even if it’s been in subtle ways—pointed comments, sideways glances, and the awkward tension that fills the room whenever the three of us are together. But I’ve kept my side of the story mostly to myself, too afraid to make things worse.

“You know she called me the other night?” I say, breaking the silence.

JJ raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“She just…wanted to know why. Why *you*? Why now?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his jaw tensing slightly as he processes my words. “And what did you tell her?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of that conversation settle over me again. “I told her the truth. That it just…happened. That I didn’t plan on falling for you, but I did.”

JJ’s lips quirk into a small smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “And how did she take that?”

I let out a soft laugh, though it’s more out of exasperation than amusement. “She didn’t really respond. Just said she needed time to figure things out.”

He leans back on the couch, pulling me closer into his side. “Then let her have her time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin… but he’s all mine."**

The thing is, I know he’s right. I know that no matter what happens with Kiara or anyone else, this—what we have—it’s real. And I can’t let their opinions, their judgment, get in the way of that. JJ is mine, and I am his. That’s all that should matter.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” I admit softly, resting my head against his shoulder. “Or anyone.”

“You won’t,” JJ murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And even if things are rocky for a while, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I close my eyes, letting the comfort of his words wash over me. Maybe it won’t always be easy. Maybe there will always be a part of Kiara that resents me for this. But I can’t let that hold me back from being happy.

**"You can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in."**

And I won’t let her. Not anymore.

I pull back slightly to look at JJ, his face soft in the dim light of the room. “I love you, you know.”

His eyes light up with that mischievous glint I’ve come to adore, and he leans in, his lips brushing mine. “I know. And I love you too.”

For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[persephoneflowerpetals]

‘Til Death

Chapter 10: Three Little Words

Chapter 9: The Exes

Chapter 11: Last Chance (WIP)

It was about noon in Corinth. The sun was shining up in the bright blue sky as the birds sang their beautiful songs. Persephone sat in the field of freshly grown wild flowers of the Corinthian meadows, taking a much needed break as Thallo grazed on a grassy hill nearby.

Persephone had been working very hard recently to make sure she was bringing spring to the lands of Greece on time. Since she had wasted so much time crying and sleeping the day she ran into Minthe and Leuke, she was a bit behind schedule, so instead of moping around and worrying about Hades, she decided to put her time and energy into her work.

True, the goddess was still very heartbroken about her sudden realization that Hades probably didn’t love her, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from doing her job. She’s certainly had a few crying spells here and there whenever she got to thinking about Hades, but she was a strong goddess. A broken heart wasn’t going to prevent her from bringing another beautiful spring. Thankfully, Hades hasn’t visited her in quite a while, so she’s had some time to think of how she could end things with him, even though she really, really didn’t want to. 

“You have to do this, Persephone. You can’t love a god that doesn’t love you. Just look at what happened with Narcissus and Echo.” she thought to herself as she watched the fluffy white clouds drift by in the sky.

Suddenly, Persephone heard the familiar sound of crackling flames, the smell of sulfur hitting her nose. She immediately sat up with a surprised gasp to see a cloud of smoke and flames appearing not too far away from her. 

“Oh, gods…not him! Not now! I can’t do this! I’m not ready!” she internally panicked as she stood up from the ground and brushed the grass and dirt off of her chiton.

There he was. Hades now stood before her in the flower field with his arms outstretched like he was ready for a hug, “Hey! Babe! It’s been a while! What’s shakin’, huh?” he greeted with a smile.

Persephone forced a smile as she avoided eye contact with him, looking everywhere but his face as she stayed put. She was so anxious, she felt like she could jump right out of her skin.

“Hey.” she replied softly, trying her best to stay calm and casual.

Hades could immediately tell something was off. Her facial expression, her body language, it was very unlike her. Normally, when he came to visit her he was greeted with an adorable smile, a big hug, and a kiss, but now, for some reason, Persephone refused to go near him. The goddess just stood there, practically glued to that spot in the flowery field as she anxiously stroked a lock of her hair.

The god dropped his arms to his side and raised his brow with suspicion, “You okay? You look like someone just pulled an arrow on you. What’s wrong?” he asked as he approached Persephone.

“I’m fine.” she answered quickly as she turned to walk away from him. Hades stopped in his tracks as he watched the goddess walk in the opposite direction.

“Something’s definitely up.” Hades thought as he started walking after her, trying to be mindful not to trample the flowers in the field.

“You’re obviously not fine because you’re walking away from me like I’m tryin‘ to sell ya chariot insurance. Seriously, what’s the deal? What’s goin’ on with you?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I’m just…tired. That’s all.” Persephone lied as she made a beeline for the edge of the field where a row of tall shady trees sat. She then stopped at the trees and started sprouting bright green vines with little pink flowers onto the trees, keeping her back turned to him. She hoped that if he saw she was busy working, he would leave her alone.

Hades wasn’t buying it for a second, “You’re a terrible liar, y’know that? C’mon, just tell me what’s going on.” he said, finally catching up with Persephone by the trees. 

Persephone didn’t reply. She just busied herself by adding more little flowers to fill the empty spots of the vines she had made, still keeping her back turned to him. She was blatantly avoiding him at this point, but Hades was determined to get to the bottom of this.

“Hey,” Hades gently took her hand away from the tree so she’d focus on him for a moment. Persephone finally turned to look at him as he cupped her cheek with his other hand, turning her head a bit so they could be completely face to face, “…talk to me, babe. What’s wrong?”

Persephone placed her hand over his hand on her cheek as she gazed into his eyes that were filled with concern. For a split second, Persephone truly believed that he loved and cared for her, but then she was reminded of what Minthe had said to her before.

“Next thing you know, you’re being lured in by that charming smile and those amber eyes of his…you’re a ‘spring fling’ and nothing more.”

“Hades…I…” Persephone’s anxious expression turned to a pained and sorrowful one as she closed her eyes and gently squeezed his hand, slowly taking it away from her face. She so desperately wanted to avoid all of this and just run away and hide, but she couldn’t. She had to end it now or else she never will. She couldn’t let Hades break her heart…even though she felt as if she were already breaking it herself.

Persephone looked up at him with a tearful expression, his large gray-blue hands still gently holding hers, “I don’t…think we should see each other anymore.”

She closed her eyes again, shutting them tighter as tears began to fall down her face. Hades just stood there like a Greek statue, completely stunned and utterly baffled. He wondered if perhaps he had a little chunk of brimstone wedged in his ear and didn’t hear her correctly, “Wh…What?”

“I’m sorry. I just...I can’t…I…I’m so sorry.” Persephone softly wept as she struggled to find the right words to say. This was far too painful for her to bear and she just couldn’t face him any longer. She suddenly slipped her hands out of his as she dashed away from him.

“Persephone! Wait! Hold on! Let’s just talk about this!” Hades called out as he immediately started chasing after her.

Persephone could hear Hades running behind her and stopped for a short moment to use her powers to manifest herself away from him so he wouldn’t follow her.

“Persephone! Don’t —“ Hades reached out to try and grab her arm, but he was too late. Persephone had already disappeared in a swirl of small leaves in pastel pink flower petals, leaving Hades all alone in the middle of the flower field.

~X~X~X~X~

Pain and Panic sat on the floor of Hades’ throne room, a deck of playing cards (or the Ancient Greece equivalent of playing cards) placed between them as they each held a handful of cards. Since Hades was off visiting Persephone for the first time in a while, they figured they could use that spare time to relax and take it easy.

“I wonder how things are going with Hades and Persephone? He hasn’t seen her in like…forever.” Pain pondered as he grabbed a card from the deck.

As if on cue, Hades appeared in the throne room, in a red, fiery blaze. He was practically shaking with fury as he let out an enraged scream, his entire body engulfed in flames.

Pain and Panic jumped with a yelp, tossing their playing cards up in the air as they all became scattered on the floor. The imps cowered together in terror as Panic quickly hid behind Pain, “I don’t think it’s going well.” Panic whispered.

“I DON’T BELIEVE THIS!” Hades bellowed, “I’M GONE FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS AND SHE BREAKS UP WITH ME!?”

“Wait…Persephone broke up with you?!” Pain asked with surprise, feeling a little more relaxed now that he knew he and Panic weren’t the source of Hades’ wrath (for once).

“But, w-why?! You two were so happy together! What happened?!” Panic questioned as he peeked out from behind his round partner in crime.

“I. DON’T. KNOW!” Hades shouted, the flames on his body flaring out with every word to emphasize his frustration.

The god went over to his throne to sit as his minions slowly and hesitantly approached him. He took a deep breath to calm himself down for a moment so he could think rationally.

“This is…this is insane. I mean, why would she break up with me? I didn’t even do anything! So, I haven’t seen her in a while, so what!? It’s not grounds for a break up! She knows we can’t see each other every day! I just can’t understand why she’d just dump me like that! Outta nowhere! She was just fine last time we met!” Hades ranted as he slumped over on his throne, resting his elbows on his knees, “This just doesn’t make any sense…something happened while I was gone. She must’ve talked to someone. There’s gotta be somebody else involved here.”

“Maybe she told her mom about you. Demeter’s not exactly your biggest fan. I don’t think she’d be too happy if she found out that you and Persephone were together.” Panic suggested.

“No, it wasn’t Demeter. If it was, she would’ve ripped my head off by now….no, somebody must’ve said something to Persephone that was enough to make her leave me…but who in the Underworld would have the nerve to —“ Hades paused for a moment before his expression began to harden.

“Minthe.”

Hades then arose from his throne with a scowl and made his way out of the throne room, “Don’t wait up for me, boys.” he said as he strode past them.

The imps watched him in confusion as he exited the room, “Where ya goin’, boss?” Pain asked curiously.

“I got some business to take care of. Need to pay a little visit to one of my old flames.”

~X~X~X~X~

Persephone ended up manifesting herself in the luscious garden of her temple near Athens. It was filled with gorgeous plants and flowers of all sizes and colors. There was a beautiful little pond covered with lily pads and lotus blossoms that sat in the middle of the garden with an ivory stone bench next to it. The goddess practically threw herself onto the bench as she sobbed into her arms.

“Why does this hurt so bad? Yes, I loved him, but he didn’t love me. It was only a matter of time before he would leave and break my heart. I had to do it. I should be happy he’s gone…and yet I feel so empty.” she wondered as she laid there crying on the bench.

“Persephone!” 

Out of nowhere, a familiar voice called out from across the garden. The spring goddess sat up on the bench and looked around. 

“Mother?”

Demeter finally spotted Persephone on the bench from across the pond and went over to her, “There you are! I’ve been looking all over Greece for you! Where have you —“ she began before noticing her daughter’s red, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“Persephone, cherry blossom. What’s the matter?” Demeter asked with concern as she sat down next to her daughter.

“It’s a long story….and honestly….I think if I tell you, you’ll hate me.” Persephone admitted as she pitifully sniffled and wiped her tears away from her eyes.

“No, sweet pea, I’d never hate you! You know you can tell me anything. Please, tell me what’s gotten you so upset.” Demeter asked as she manifested a handkerchief to help wipe Persephone’s tears away.

Persephone let out a shaky sigh then looked away from her mother, focusing her attention on a random spot on the ground. She knew she was going to have this conversation with her mother at some point, however, she imagined it would’ve been under better circumstances than this.

Persephone then proceeded to tell her mother about everything she’s been through since they last saw each other, all while keeping her eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to see her mother’s facial expression as she confessed. She did her best to explain all of her thoughts and feelings she had as she spent time with Hades, wanting her mother to understand why she’s done the things she’s done.

“…so, after the picnic, he suggested we take a walk along the river, so we did…and we just…talked. After a while we got to the river bridge and the sun was setting. We stopped talking for a minute to just take in the pretty view. Then I looked at him while he was watching the water and I started getting that funny feeling I told you about before, like butterflies in my tummy…that’s when it finally hit me. I realized at that moment…I was in love with him. That whole time, all those weird feelings I got when I was around him, when he looked at me, when he complimented me, when he laughed, when he smiled…I…I loved him…..so I kissed him.”

Persephone squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her tears beginning to resurface. Not only was she scared of her mother’s reaction to this news, but it hurt to think back to the moment she fell for him now that they weren’t together anymore.

Demeter was quiet, trying to process all of this new information, but there was no indication that she was mad or upset, “How did Hades react?” she then asked calmly.

Persephone opened her eyes and looked towards her mother. She really expected Demeter to be fussing at her and scolding her for feeling such a way towards Hades. Her mother’s calm tone and demeanor after hearing her confession made Persephone feel a little less anxious about the conversation.

She took another deep breath to settle her nerves before explaining Hades’ reaction to her kiss and everything that transpired after that, from the moment she left the Underworld, to her recent meeting with his exes. Demeter stayed silent as she maintained her cool and calm disposition, listening intently to what her daughter had to say.

“That’s how I ended up here…like this. Hades came by for a visit and I decided to do what was best, so…I broke up with him.” Persephone explained, her voice wobbly as she tried not to cry again. She then looked over at her mother who just looked back at her with sympathy. The spring goddess instantly broke down in tears as she hugged her.

“I’m so sorry, mother! You were right! I should’ve listened to you! I’m sorry I was so stupid to believe that he actually —“ she sobbed into her mother’s shoulder as Demeter held her close, gently patting her back to comfort her.

“Oh, sweet pea, no. You’re not stupid, don’t you ever say that about yourself.” Demeter said softly as she started to rub her back in little circles.

Persephone then pulled away from her mother to look at her, “But I was so foolish! I should’ve…I should’ve gone with you when you left the Underworld….and I should’ve told you all of this sooner. I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want to disappoint you even more than I already have...”

Demeter once again used the little handkerchief to wipe away Perspehone’s tears as she gently held her face, “Persephone, sweetheart, you’ve never disappointed me...and you don’t need to apologize for your feelings either.” she assured her before taking her hands to hold them in hers, looking her in the eyes.

“I know I’ve shown my distaste for Hades quite a bit in the past, and for good reason, but I can tell by the way you talk about him that you care about him very much. He obviously means a lot to you.”

Persephone nodded, “Yeah…he does.”

“And you still love him…don’t you?” Demeter asked.

Persephone’s lip quivered as she felt the hot tears return to her eyes, “Yes…and it hurts so much!” she wept as she embraced her mother once more.

Demeter felt just as heartbroken as her daughter was and she hated to see her so distraught. Her first instinct was to go straight to Hades and tear him apart both verbally and physically for hurting her Persephone like this, but she knew that wasn’t the wisest decision and that wasn’t going to fix anything at the moment. Right now, Persephone needed the love and comfort of her mother, so she just held her close as she consoled her and let her cry it out.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

Persephone finally calmed down after a few moments and let go of her mother as she took a few deep breaths. Demeter handed her the little handkerchief so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Then she spoke, her voice sounding a little bit hoarse from all the crying, “Do you…Do you think I made the right choice? Breaking up with him?“ 

Demeter gave her a warm and sympathetic smile as she brushed a strand of Persephone’s hair behind her ear, “I wish I had an answer for you, honeybee.” she replied.

The spring goddess sighed. That wasn’t exactly the response she was looking for.

“But, you know, I did a lot of thinking after I left the Underworld….and you made me realize that I’ve been coddling you and your sister for far too long. You were the one who was right all along. You’re a grown goddess who can make her own decisions…and that includes the tough ones like these.” Demeter said.

Persephone was glad to hear that she was able help to mother become a little less protective of her and her little sister, but she still wished she could get some confirmation that she was correct in her decision to end things with Hades.

“I just don’t know if I made the right decision. I feel like I should’ve just talked it out with him, but at the same time I….I just don’t know if he truly loves me like I love him.” she mused as she stared at the ground again.

Demeter gave her another sympathetic smile as she lifted her daughter’s head by her chin, “Well, you know I’m no goddess of love, but I think if Hades truly loves you…you’ll know. Besides, he’d be crazy not to love you. You’re so sweet, and beautiful, and talented. Any deity would be lucky to have you. I know I’m very lucky to have you as my daughter.”

Persephone smiled as Demeter leaned over to kiss her forehead, then hugged her mother tightly, “I love you, mom.”

Demeter smiled as she hugged her back, “And I love you too, blossom. Very much.”

After a very sweet and tender moment, the mother and daughter separated. Demeter looked over at the stone sundial that stood across from the garden bench. It was pretty late in the afternoon, and it wouldn’t be too long before sundown.

“Oh, sugar cane! I forgot, I’m supposed to be at a spring harvest festival in Troy this evening.” Demeter said before looking over at Persephone, “But, if you’re still upset…”

The spring goddess smiled again, appreciative that she was willing to stay with her longer, “No, it’s okay. I actually feel a lot better now. You go ahead. Besides, I gotta get back to Corinth. I still have a lot of work to do and Thallo is probably wondering where I am.”

Demeter returned her smile as she brushed Persephone’s bangs away from her eyes a bit, “Alright. Well, don’t push yourself out there, sweetheart. Remember, it won’t kill those mortals if spring comes a little late.” she reminded her.

“I know. I won’t.” Persephone replied as Demeter kissed the top of her head. The harvest goddess then stood up from the bench to manifest a giant tulip from the ground, the bright red petals opening up so she could step inside.

“Mother?” Persephone called out before she could step into the large flower. Demeter stopped and looked back at her curiously.

“Thank you.”

Demeter smiled fondly, “There’s no need to thank me, dearest. I’m your mother. That’s what I’m here for.” she replied before stepping into the flower. She blew a quick kiss to Persephone before the petals of the tulip closed around her, the giant flower then retreating back into the ground.

Persephone closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, smelling the sweet scent of the flowers that surrounded her and feeling more refreshed now that she was able to get that off her chest. She then stood from the ivory bench, stretched her arms, and looked out at the beautiful view of the horizon from her temple’s garden before manifesting herself back to Corinth.

~X~X~X~X~

Back in the Athenian forest, Minthe and Leuke sat by the shimmering grotto, relishing in the bounty they received from Hecate. Minthe was reclining on a low hanging branch of a tree, a small, but hefty leather sachet full of gold drachma coins in her hand as Leuke sat by the water with her own little sachet of wealth sitting in her lap.

”10,000 drachma, each! Can you believe it!?“ Minthe happily raved from the branch as she grabbed a handful of coins from the sachet, watching them fall out of her hand and back into the sachet.

“I know! We’re probably the richest nymphs in Greece! What are you gonna buy?!” Leuke bubbled with an excited smile as she examined one of her drachma coins.

“I can’t decide! I’m either gonna go on a complete shopping spree at the agora or I’m gonna buy a brand new chariot with gold trim. If I play my cards right, I could probably convince the salesman to throw in some free stallions.” Minthe answered as she continued to admire her money, “What about you?”

Leuke cocked her head to the side, “I dunno. I kinda wanted to buy a grand palace.”

Minthe frowned and raised her brow at the idea, looking down at Leuke from the tree branch, “Leuke…you can’t buy a grand palace with 10,000 drachma.” 

“Oh...what about a penthouse palace?” Leuke asked as she looked up at Minthe. The green nymph just looked back down at her with an annoyed expression, “No, Leuke.”

“Okay…then I guess I’ll just buy some souvlaki or something.” Leuke decided with a shrug.

Minthe glanced at her in confusion, “Souvlaki? Seriously? You have 10,000 drachma and you just wanna buy souvlaki?”

Leuke looked at Minthe like she was stupid before replying, “With extra tzatziki sauce! Jeez, I’m not a cheapskate.”

Minthe sighed and rolled her eyes at her friend’s stupidity, “Leuke, I swear there are harpies smarter than you.” she retorted.

Leuke smiled at the comment, “Aww, tha—“ she paused, finally catching on to the insult, “Wait, hey!”

The oceanid looked as if she were about to start an argument with the other nymph, but before she even could speak, she was interrupted by another voice.

“So…you’re still at it, eh, Minthe?”

The nymphs recognized the voice in an instant and turned their heads to find their ex boyfriend, Hades, leaning against another nearby tree, an unamused frown on his face. Minthe smirked as she slid off of the tree branch with ease while Leuke stood from the ground.

“Hey, Hades. Long time no see.” Minthe greeted him flirtatiously as she casually stuffed her sachet of money down the top of her dress. 

Hades scowled at her as he bitterly returned her greeting, “Minthe.”

Leuke simply smiled and happily waved to Hades, “Hi, Hades!” she chirped.

Hades looked over at Leuke with a neutral expression, clearly not having as much animosity with her as he does with Minthe, “Hey, Leuke.” he casually replied.

Minthe sauntered over to Hades, swaying her hips as she smiled at him with half lidded eyes, “So, you finally came crawling back to me, huh? I knew you couldn’t stay away from me.” she purred as she ran a finger down the front of his chiton.

“Yeah, you wish.” Hades responded with annoyance as he backed away from the nymph while wiping off his chiton as if she had gotten it all dirty, “Listen, I’m not here to catch up and shoot the breeze, alright? So, let’s get straight to the point: What did you say to Persephone?” 

Minthe’s smirk quickly turned to a frown at the mention of the goddess' name and rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hades glared at her and clenched his fists, his hair turning red as his hands burst into flames, “Do not play dumb with me, Minthe. I’m not in the mood for games.”

“I’m serious, Hades. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never spoken to Persephone before in my life.“ she declared.

“Yeah, you have, silly! We talked to her just a few days ago, remember?” Leuke said as she approached Minthe and Hades, completely oblivious to the fact that her friend was trying to lie.

Minthe’s eyes widened as she whipped her head around to give Leuke an icy stare, “Shut up!” she hissed through her teeth.

“Great, so you dragged her into it too, huh?” Hades asked as he crossed his arms and nodded towards Leuke, “What did you two say to her?” he asked once again, shifting his glare between the pair of nymphs.

“We told her the truth.” Minthe answered with a shrug as she observed her nails nonchalantly, “We told her that she wasn’t good enough for you and you were way out of her league.”

“And that you smell!” Leuke added with an enthusiastic smile.

Minthe frowned as her brows furrowed, giving Leuke a look that screamed “just stop talking” while Hades just stared at her with confusion, his hair going back to its calm blue color as his hands stopped burning. Yes, he wanted details about the conversation they had with Persephone, but he wanted details that actually mattered. However, he knew Leuke wasn’t exactly the brightest star in the cosmos, so her pointless remark didn’t really surprise him.

Leuke believed that she had provided valuable information about their recent encounter with Persephone, but Minthe and Hades’ facial expressions said otherwise, “Well, we did. Oh yeah! We also told her to break up with you.” she admitted.

That was the kind of information Hades was looking for. However, this particular detail made him absolutely livid. He grimaced at the nymphs as his entire form shifted into his classic angry red color, his hair flaring wildly past his broad shoulders.

“So, let me get this straight. You two went out of your way to make Persephone feel like she didn’t deserve me, then you TELL HER TO BREAK UP WITH ME!?” the god yelled as his body burned fiercely.

Leuke hastily jumped behind Minthe to hide behind her, placing her hands on her shoulders as she peeked her head up a bit. Minthe was completely unphased by Hades' angry outburst and continued to check nails.

Hades took a deep breath to chill out, but his scorching crimson hair was a blatant indicator that he was still pretty upset, “Why?” he growled, trying to keep his temper so he could get more answers.

Leuke, not as frightened now that Hades was a little less fiery and irate, popped her head up from behind Minthe’s shoulders, “Because H–” she started to explain before Minthe threw her hand over her mouth to keep her from blabbing to Hades. 

Minthe gave Hades a smug and slightly mischievous smirk as she spoke, “Because she needed to face the facts. She’ll never be good enough for you. You deserve someone better. Someone like me.” she said as she tossed her long green hair back in an enticing manner, the lock of hair smacking Leuke in the face in the process.

Hades rolled his eyes at the suggestion as the green nymph continued, “I don’t know why you’re so worried about her, anyways. It’s not like you two were that serious. You never even told her you loved her.”

The god sneered at her accusation as he began to angrily flare up again, “Of course I –” he began to argue before he paused. His eyes widened and his shoulders slumped as he slowly cooled down completely, hair and all.

“Oh, gods…I never told her I loved her…” he said under his breath.

The god stared down at the ground. He couldn’t believe he never once told her that he loved her…not even after their first kiss. She’s told him countless times how much she loved him and how happy he made her, but he never returned the sentiment.

“No wonder she left…she thought I didn’t love her back. Gods, what’s wrong with me!? Why wouldn’t I tell her that!? Of course I love her! I’m crazy about her! Over the moon! I can’t get enough of her!” Hades thought.

“Why would you?” Minthe asked, “She’s not worthy of your love. Seriously, I don’t even know what you saw in that pink cow.” she scoffed.

The insult immediately broke Hades away from his thoughts. He sent a nasty look towards Minthe as she turned away from him to continue carelessly slandering the goddess.

“Really! I mean, she’s fat, she’s ugly, her fashion sense is just hideous, and she’s so gullible! I can’t believe she actually believed everything we told her! She’s so stupid!” the naiad laughed.

Hades was seething with anger as Minthe ranted. His whole body was burning hotter and brighter than the sun itself, but Minthe was completely unaware. However, Leuke was still facing Hades and could see that he was very agitated.

“M-M-Minthe…” Leuke stuttered as she trembled and slowly backed away from her friend and the furious god.

“I mean, gods, it’s no wonder she’s been single for like, a thousand years! She’s the most unattractive goddess on Olympus! Who would wanna date that big, pink –” Minthe jeered before she finally noticed the broiling heat hitting her back. She turned around to find Hades giving her the most intimidatingly venomous expression she’s ever seen. The nymph stood frozen in fear as Hades raised his inflamed arm.

“One more word…and I burn this place to the ground with you in it…capisce?” he threatened. 

Minthe silently nodded, looking at Hades like a frightened deer. Hades shook his arm to make his arms and the rest body stop burning, the hateful look still plastered on his face.

“Great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to go clean up the mess that you two helped create,” Hades said as he turned to walk away from his petrified exes, “and just a suggestion: if you don’t wanna become permanent residents down under, eternal punishment included…” he stopped walking for a short moment to look back at the pair of nymphs. 

“Don’t ever let me catch you talking to or about Persephone again.” the god warned before continuing his retreat.

The nymphs stayed silent as they watched Hades leave until he stopped one last time, fully turning around to face them, his expression now looking more smug and sarcastic than angry and disgusted, “Oh, and uh, Minthe? You and me? Never gonna happen, babe. Seriously, you have got to get over me…sheesh.” he said as he shook his head before finally exiting the forest in a large burst of blue fire.

Minthe’s expression promptly switched from intimidated to frustrated as she ground her teeth together, “I AM OVER YOU!” she shrieked.

The fuming naiad turned around in a huff as she stomped away, “Ugh…shut up, Leuke!” she snapped.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Leuke exclaimed in defense.

Minthe swiftly looked back and glowered at her, “I know, but you were gonna say something and it was gonna be stupid!”

Leuke pouted as she crossed her arms, “I was not!” she shouted as Minthe continued storming away from her. She then looked down with a slightly guilty expression, “Okay, maybe it was gonna be a little stupid.” she admitted quietly before following Minthe.

[jewishbuckley]

"was there a reason you didn't cancel this" honestly I thought I had so no there wasn't a reason but also if clients are going to have Your personal number and reach out to You about canceling (when they Should be reaching out via email per our cancelation policy) then You should be canceling the appt anyway imo. all the other trainers cancel their appointments AND add their appointments to the system 🤪

[arolesbianism]

Every day I mourn the fact that none of my family and friends give a single shit abt oni lore, I don't wanna keep repeating shit I've already said before on here but every now and then I just remember the horrors™ and nearly explode not being able to scream abt it again

[dirt-str1der]

I keep thinking of that writing prompts post where its like my daughter asks daddy why cant we go outside anymore ? But she already knows , and one of the comments was like Then why tf did she ask ?? , like yeah ... why ..... thinking shout that might produce even scarier horror concepts

[seasons-of-death]

bsf!rafe helping you have your first orgasm with someone

warnings: smut (mdni)in the bsf!rafe headcanon post, i mentioned that what lead to their little thing was because reader told rafe that she had never had an orgasm with a partner, and i decided to write a little blurb about that

you and rafe were laid down on the floor of his living room, the rug tickling the back of your neck the room littered with red solo cups, empty bottles of booze, several of vases belonging to his stepmother in pieces around the room, music still playing faintly in the distance, but the only thing you could focus on was rafe's laughter as he laid on the floor next to yours.

"hey, it's not funny!" you exclaim, but the boy simply raised his brows amusedly, making you roll your eyes, "alright, it's a little bit funny."

"thirty seconds? seriously?" rafe laughs, and you smack him gently in his chest. "next you're gonna tell me he could never even make you come."

it was just a joke, but when he looked at you and saw the aloof look on your face as you stared at the ceiling, your bottom lip between your teeth, clearly avoiding looking at your best friend, rafe gasped, knowing that he just hit the nail on the head. "really? he never made you come?"

you sighed, and turned to your best friend, a teasing expression on your face, and you just knew you'd never hear the end of this. "alright, he never made me come. are you happy?" you scoffed, hoping he'd drop it, making rafe burst out in laughter, the pout on your face becoming more and more visible, "it's not funny..."

"okay, okay, i'll stop laughing." rafe said, and like he said, the laughter in his throat slowly dying down, "only if you answer one question." he said, his head now leaning against the palm of his hand as he watched you with interest.

"alright, what is it?" you asked exasperatedly, desperately wanting out of this situation.

"how many guys have been able to do that?"

you hid your face in your hands, but rafe simply took hold of your wrists, and pulled them away from your face, forcing you to look at him in the eyes as you bit down on your lower lip, not knowing if you should lie to him or just come out and tell him the truth.

"come on, i'm your best friend, you can tell me anything."

but when you quietly whispered the word "none," and stutteringly explained that you'd only been able to do it yourself, you could see a grin take over his lips, the one you'd known for the entirety of your life, the one that told you that rafe found something interesting, challenging, something to achieve, to conquer.

rafe swore it was just something that'd happen just once, that it wouldn't change your friendship, that it was normal. still, as his fingers slid in and out of you with ease due to the arousal gushing out of you, moans slipping out of your lips while your manicured fingers were holding onto his hair, it was feeling less and less like friendship, like the closer you got to your orgasm, the more intense it got.

"rafe..." you moaned when his soft lips wrapped around your clit, drawing sensations out of you that no other guy had before, ones you'd only managed to get yourself to feel, now much more electrified by the fact that it was him touching you.

"i'm just helping my best friend..." rafe said quietly against your clit, the vibrations of his words against the sensitive spot, causing you to throw your head back as you enjoyed every sensation his mouth and hands were giving you.

and when the electric feeling inside of your stomach finally spread throughout your body as if it had been set free, you were too naive to know just how much this would change your friendship, your moans far too loud for you to hear the little mumbles of "mine..." that your best friend was whispering against your cunt.

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.

[dunmeshistash]

Okay I think I'm ready to write the second part of this post about Milsiril

To make it easier for me I'll just divide this into her relationship with Kabru, Mithrun and Helki (her ex-canary prisoner teammate)

First about Kabru

This is an extra from the daydream hour 5. The caption says "Something like this might as well have happened" so its probably not canon but could be. I honestly think his reaction to Milsiril visiting and being overbearing says a lot about the type of relantionship they have. This is the fakest bitch in the whole of dungeon meshi, he never says what he trully thinks unless there's an advantage to doing so, he's a people pleaser that does and says anything to make people like/trust him. And yet he immediatly converts into "Mooooooom you're embarassing meeeeee" when he sees it's Milsiril.

This translation used "Mom" but as I understand the original he uses the more formal version so I think it would be closer to "Mother" but still he acknowleges her as his Mother, and he acts like her kid in every interaction we see between them.

I really don't understand where the idea that he learned to be fake from being "forced" to be her adoptive son comes from.

(Continuing under a cut)

The other interaction we see between them is the Kabru extra from the Adventurer's Bible

Kabru comes to her with a deep fear he clearly has had even before she adopted him, he trusted her with this fear and she did not disappoint him, she comforted him and then gave him the information he needed to believe what she was saying

I'd also like to point out in no moment she discouraged him from calling his his bio-mom "Mom". He also says she taught her children everything they asked

I doubt this would only be true for him, it also mirrors something she said in the manga

"You can go ahead and learn all you want about something else." I believe it when Kabru says she made every effort to answer her children's questions. I think this is also the way she expresses the love she has for them. Plus I love the thought bubble with Kabru mirroring what he learned from her. I also love this daydream hour, she sacrifices her own comfort to do something for Kabru.

Milsiril isn't a perfect mother tho, besides the fact she is overprotective she comes from a very different culture from her children. I like to call her Kabru's white mom cause I think that would be the real world equivalent. This extra is the one I think the most about showing this context perfectly

Kabru wants to share Utaya sweets but looks at his mom looking gloomy/rejected so he talks about fruitcake instead. This very rude for Milsiril to do since she's kinda trying to overwrite his actual cultural background, but I think its done more as a "I want you to like the things I like" rather than something nefarious, and once again Kabru doesn't hide at all his distaste for it, he does the bare minimum to please his mom since she's being dramatic but he doesn't lie to her, he shows how displeased he is about fruitcake, something he refuses to do when eating the harpy omelette that is way worse, because he must make a good impression for Laios. Kabru is honest with his overbearing white mom once again.

Now a little about Rin, from Kabru's context, this is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

(look at Helki he's such a gremlin i love him) anyway, Rin has a trauma about elves, they really mistreated her so she hates them, but when they notice she isn't thriving they go to Milsiril for help (Helki specifically I'll talk more about him next). I think this indicates she really has a better understanding of short lived kids, her kids are thriving differently from the ones the other elves try to care for. I'd also like to remember she lives secluded from other elves so while Kabru probably had lots of interactions with elves during his life, most of it was probably spent with Milsiril and her other adoptive kids. She also asks Kabru if he would do this to help Rin, he isn't being forced or anything, I also think it's good that Milsiril knows she cant take in any more kids, this to me shows she's worried about the quality of life her kids have. That is all to say, Rin is the one with elf trauma, not Kabru, because Kabru had Milsiril to shelter him from them.

Helki

This will be short and sweet since there's barely anything about Helki, he's her prisioner companion from her time in the canaries, but he was pardoned after Utaya, it says so in the Canarie's Structure page in the new adventurer's guide but I cant really find it translated again... so here's google's machine translation (I remember it saying "Retired and pardoned as a reward after Utaya", something like that)

so officially he isn't a prisoner anymore, but I think he still works as a canary, even so he and Milsiril seem quite close, he is the one to go talk to her about Rin, He is there when she's training Kabru (both laughing at Kabru and then participating). I saw people theorizing she stays close to him because he is also someone who she can feel superior to, but I don't believe it at all, he's STILL in contact with her even after they have nothing to with each other, I think they really have a friendship, and there's no point where it seems like she feels like she's better than him or that he's less than her, people seem to interpret Milsiril and her relationships in the worst possible ways every time and I don't understand why.

This segways into Mithrun

I've also seen people assuming she only got close to Mithrun because now he needs her and has no power over her, once again with the theory that Milsiril surrounds herself with people she can feel superior to. But once again, Milsiril had a change of perspective about Mithrun after seeing his Dungeon

Rather than she feeling superior to him I think rather she realized he was just like her. (And I think she's friends with Helki for a similar reason, it's probably easier to see him as an equal than other nobles)

I've also seen this part used as proof of that. "He said that you've got suspicious ulterior motives and that I shouldn't listen to you" as if that's true, but this is past Mithrun, the one that didn't trust anyone and thought ill of all his teammates, ofc he doesn't believe someone would help him without an ulterior motive. This doesn't prove much about her real motivations.

Also before she showed up, Mithrun was being cared for by servants hired by his brother, he isn't someone helpless she has power over, he is still a member of an important Noble family that has a caring brother providing for him, he can do without Milsiril, he had done without her for 20 years before Utaya happened and she quit the Canaries.

This is all to say I think Milsiril is just a white(elf) adoptive mom doing her best, I don't see much of anything nefarious about her or her motivations, she is flawed as all the dunmeshi characters are, she isn't a perfect mom, she isn't an evil mom, she's just a person.

Elves in general also see short lived species as "children" so I imagine this makes her "You'll always be my baby" attitude way worse, she really treats pre-teen/teen Kabru like he's a toddler sometimes. But she also respected him enough to go all out in training him. I think they're a family with everything that entails.

PS: I didn't get much into Interracial adoption since this is something that happens irl too and I don't know much about all the issues that entails, but in the end, in this case, it seems like a net positive for the kids she adopts considering all we see about how she raised Kabru.

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[logansdoll]

jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."