#like not even her siblings that tried to hide her so the older man couldn’t take her .

[quaithe-seastar]

Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now. 

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side. 

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat. 

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go. 

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw. 

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still. 

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. 

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,”   he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out. 

“Look at me.”  

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t. 

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?” 

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face. 

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms. 

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips. 

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to. 

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak. 

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long. 

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs. 

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter. 

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down. 

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

[push-and-scream]

Like a good girl

Tw birth, r4pe, ftm birth, misgendering

This is a commission from @donotpush who did an amazing job! I love this fic so much

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Dad knew better. Always, Dad knew better. Since he was a little kid it was his strong hands guiding his way, picking him up from the floor when he fell, always having the right words. So Dad must be right now, too.

At first, he thought his dad was just overreacting when he told him about his transition. That dad would get over it because, after all, he loved her.

But now, as Dad pounded into him. He wasn't that sure about it. It was a punishment, Dad said. Because she didn't want to behave like she had to.

Aiden feels his dad's hands gripping his hips, pressing his body against the mattress to keep him still. The tip of dad's dick is pressing against his pussy, teasing up and down and rubbing at his clit. A small whimper escaped Aiden's lips when his dad slid inside his throbbing entrance.

Beneath him, Aiden squirmed at the sensation. The older man started to pound into him, one of his hands on his hip to keep him still and the other busy moving to lift his leg and prop it upwards, holding it in the air as he fucked him.

“Fuck…” Aiden whimpered.

His father's hand traveled to his chest, gripping harshly at his breasts as he continued to pound. A loud moan escaped his mouth at the sensation of his nipples being pinched and trapped between his fingers.

The sensation of having someone playing with his tits and feeling so good while someone fucked his pussy made him think that maybe Dad was right, that he was made to be a girl after all.

“I'm gonna… teach you…” his dad's voice whispered in his ear, and the words ended up lost in the air between Aiden’s moans. “I'm gonna teach you how to be a good girl. A good girl…”

Aiden's dad pulled out of his pussy, and slipped the condom off his erect dick with a quick movement. It should have worried Aiden, but his mind was drowned in a fog of pleasure that it was the last thing he couldn’t think about right now.

It's his dad's hands that turn him around, throwing his body around like it's nothing. He wasn’t such a strong man like his dad, he knew it, and that's why when he said that Aiden deserved to be punished, he found no way to fight against it.

Dad's hand traveled up to his neck, sliding his hand in his newly freshly cut hair before he pressed his face against the pillow. Then, he used both hands to lift his hips slightly up before he started pounding inside of him again, hitting that spot and sending a wave of electricity over Aiden’s body.

Aiden felt his legs like jelly as his dad finished inside of him, the warmth of his seed filling his pussy.

“That’s it…” his dad breathed heavily behind him. “Like a good girl.”

***

When he stopped having his period, he thought that maybe it was the result of the testosterone. Even when he knew that it was way too early for that kind of effect. When he started to put some weight on, when his body became softer, he thought that maybe this was normal.

Lately, he had been eating a bit more, so it made sense that his thighs were fatter and that his tummy was a bit bigger. But then his boobs grew and became more sensitive, and his nipples changed, and his stomach just kept on growing. His whole body was sensitive, a single touch, a single brush over his nipples would send him crazy, his clitoris was almost burning at every touch, at every sensation.

The moment he felt something moving inside of him, squirming and stretching against the skin of his stomach, he couldn't deny it anymore. His dad's punishment wasn't over, and he would have nine more months to think about what he chose to do.

He was pregnant. There was no way to deny it anymore. His dad promised a sibling, and his dad fulfilled his promise.

He tried to hide it as best as he could. Winter came, and oversized hoodies and loose clothes made wonders. But as it came, it went, and suddenly Aiden found himself too hot, too bothered to be fully covered with sweaters.

He couldn't stand watching himself in the mirror for too long. His body was doing what Dad said it should be doing: being the prime example of womanhood. He was so gravid, so swollen and filled with life. Fuckin’ pregnant.

He turned to his side and observed his profile: his chest was huge and swollen and sensitive, no longer being able to hide behind his binders, resting on top of his rounded-out stomach.

Inside of him, his baby rested not so peacefully. His sibling was a big baby, and his huge and tender stomach contrasted with his slender frame. He could feel the baby resting low on his hips, the weight of the head almost opening him up, like a bowling ball. It was a constant reminder of his punishment.

All of the extra weight wasn't the worst part. The worst of it was that a lot of his little progress was erased; under his clothes, his body started to look quite feminine. He hated it.

His dad was quite proud. There was a sly smirk on his face when Aiden wasn't able to hide his growing stomach anymore, and he always remarked how she was doing what she was supposed to do, carrying his baby so well.

Even if he may have been able to hide it pretty well with loose clothes, the way he started to waddle, to always have a hand on his back, to be careful with almost everything because his body had just become a complicated thing to move around being so gravid.

His hips widened to adapt to the baby, so feminine now, his breasts grew like a pretty girl. And his pussy was always wet. He was always horny and hungry for dick to fill him up. Like a good girl.

Get knocked up. Carry a baby. Be a mommy. Be a good girl. Over the months, as he became more and more pregnant, those kinds of ideas were all he could think about sometimes. To be a good girl. Even now, in the last months of his pregnancy, most of the time all he could think about was about being a good girl and letting someone –anyone— fucking his pretty pussy and having his engorged tits in their mouth.

Aiden stared at the forming puddle beneath his feet. One of his hands gripped tightly at the base of his contracting belly and the other one rested on his lower back.

He woke up early in the morning to painful contractions, after a night of little rest. He labored all morning, and all afternoon, and as he finished doing chores, his water broke.

They didn’t talk about it, but between his dad and him, they decided to have a home birth. His dad said something along the lines of every woman’s body knows exactly what to do when the moment comes.

“Fuck…” Aiden moaned, gripping the kitchen counter and swinging his hips in the air.

Beneath him, his gravid stomach hung low and distended, contracting. Inside of him, his sibling kicked relentlessly.

“Fuck…you're so big” he mumbled, all of his attention focused on the feeling of his baby resting on his hips, low and heavy. Like a bowling ball, the head of his child rested on his pelvis, almost threatening to fall out of him with every movement.

Aiden groaned, falling to a squat as another contraction took over him.

“God…!” He whimpered, “Come on…!”

The first three months, he barely showed. In Aiden’s mind, it meant that he was lucky, that he was gonna have a small baby and, shit, maybe he could even ignore it. But as soon as he went past the three-month mark, his stomach just swelled. By the moment he was seven months or so, he looked pregnant with twins.

If anyone looked at him, they would never guess that he wasn’t pregnant with twins, just with a huge baby.

He could feel it when he walked. How as each month passed everything just became harder and harder with the enormous baby in his womb, from tying his shoes to bending over to pick stuff from the floor.

But, incredibly contradictory, his body seemed to just naturally adjust to it. His dad said that it was meant to be, he was such a good girl for carrying his baby so well.

He wasn’t sure about that, but his own body seemed to agree with his dad. Everything seemed that he was meant to be a mother, to carry big babies like a good girl.

And like any good girl, the more pregnant and full and big he got, the hungrier he was for having strong hands around his body and a big dick filling him up. It was almost a craving, to have someone spread his pussy lips and fuck him good.

In the end, he just couldn’t help getting wet every time he saw his naked body in the mirror. His stomach was huge and gravid, his tender breasts resting on top of the mound of flesh. His hips, now wide and made for what they meant to do: bring a baby to this world. Like a good girl.

Another contraction took him away from his thoughts. His hand moved between his legs, feeling the sensation of his swollen and wet pussy lips parting as he slid a finger inside of himself to check his progress.

“Ughn… mhm…” he groaned, rocking his hips in the air at the feeling of fucking himself. “Fuck…mhm…”

The head was almost there. He could feel it making its way down his pelvis and getting closer to spread him open. The thought made him shiver.

As he waddled around the living room, pacing with both hands cupping his stomach, another painful contraction took him almost by surprise. He still wasn't used to the sudden explosions of pain that made his body shake with each contraction. Aiden gripped with a hand the couch, and with the other, he rubbed circles on the tense skin of his stomach.

Aiden let out a loud moan when he felt the baby descending in his pelvis.

“Oh, you're so low,” Aiden groaned. “Ugh….mhm…”

The contraction passed, and he panted and started to walk again. It was only as he walked around that he realized how low the baby actually was now. It felt as if at every step the baby could just pop out of him, the weight sitting uncomfortably on his birth canal.

He had been able to ignore the almost invisible need to push that was there, but now, the need was becoming an urge and with every moment, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

“So low…” Aiden whimpered, pressing his forehead to the couch back as he rocked his hips in the air.

Besides all the discomfort, besides the feeling of the head right behind his swollen lips and threatening to split him open, it sort of felt right. His body was doing what it was meant to be, after all. His body was meant to be fertile and gravid, his womb always full, like the slut he always knew he was.

“Aghnn…!” Aiden whined, coming down to a squat as another contraction hit him. “Fuck. I’m so close. It’s coming…!”

His stomach tensed and it felt like a hundred needles on his back when the contraction reached its peak. He bit his lips, and beneath him, his knees trembled as the baby descended even lower.

As he stood up with difficulty, another contraction took over him. His lips parted and Aiden let out a long, loud groan as his legs forced themselves apart: the head of the baby made its way lower and suddenly, it was right there, right behind his lips. With a hand, he reached to feel his swollen lips. Brushing over his sensitive clit, he felt the head beginning to crown.

“Oh, ughn…” he moaned, standing with his legs apart to give the head all the space it needed. “Fuck! Ughn!”

Another contraction and Aiden squatted again. His body instinctively pushed, and the head slipped a bit out. With every passing second, with every unconscious push that his body gave.

“Ahh…ugh…” Aiden moaned as he slowly propped himself up. “Mhnmg…shit…”

He waddled around the couch, walking comically due to the head crowning between his legs. One of his hands was on his tense stomach and the other was down between his legs, feeling the bulge of the head on his swollen pussy. As soon as he was in the middle of the living room, he squatted down again, his legs wide open.

His chin pressed to his chest as Aiden pushed with the next contraction.

“Ugh…!” He whimpered, eyes closed and face turning red. “Fuck! Come on…I can feel you. Nhgn!”

The head slipped past his lips a bit more. Then, his eyes widened at the sensation: it was big. So big. Bigger than he thought.

He screamed as another contraction took over him. Things were going fast, and he thought he should be happy with it, but the head was so big that it felt as if it were to split him open.

“Oh God, oh God…mhgn!” He moaned, pushing again. “It's so big! Nhgn! I need to push so bad…”.

His hand was cupping his pussy, preventing the head from coming too fast. It was unbearable to have it stretching him open like that, barely bulging out of his pussy lips, but at the same time, it felt good. Like his father said, a woman's purpose was to bring life. And that was exactly what his body was doing right now.

“C'mon, baby! Ah-nnn!” He grunted, his face scrunching up in effort as he pushed again. “Please…. f…fuck! Ughn!”

The head slid further out of him. If his dad were here, he would be cooing at him and telling him what a good girl he was, pushing so good, listening to what his body was made to do and letting it do it.

“Please, come on…” he pleaded, cupping the baby’s head, now really close to fully crowning in his hand. “Nhn…you’re so big!”

A yelp escaped his lips when the head finally popped out of him, his knees trembling as he used both hands to support the head. It was huge, fucking huge as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of his tortured lips.

“Ah-hn!” he whimpered, feeling the head stretching out his lips. “Come on, baby…! Ahh-hn!”

Another push. His lips spread even more around the head, and with the next push, it popped out of him completely with a gush of amniotic fluid that stained the carpet beneath him.

“Oh–ah…okay…” he grunted, his chest trembling at the next contraction. “Now… the shoulders…”

He pushed. One of the shoulders popped out of him almost effortlessly. In his hands, the baby was huge, and he could feel it. His hole was burning with each push, with each contraction that rushed through his womb.

“Nhgn….!” gritting his teeth, he pushed. The other shoulder came out.

He let out a yelp at the burning sensation of the shoulder, huge, stretching him out. If he were a real man, then his body wouldn’t just be able to take it. But he wasn’t, he thought as he panted through the next contraction. Maybe his dad was right and he wasn't. He was meant for this. to be a pretty girl and to birth babies.

“Come on baby…” he panted, looking down at his swollen stomach. “Just… nhgn… you’re almost there. Pleas- ah-ghn!”

He pushed, not able to stand the feeling of his pussy being spread so much. Nothing happened. Aiden shifted in his place, his legs were burning from being squatting. Both shoulders were stretching him out mercilessly, stuck on his poor pusy.

“Ughnn…!” he grunted, pressing his chin to his chest as another contraction rippled through him. “Agh! F…fuck!”

Fuck. Nothing happened. A sense of dread and panic rushed through him. God, he needed to change positions. Aiden let himself fall on his back, propping both legs up and holding his thighs back.

“Mhgn…shit! Please, please come on…!” another whimper escaped his mouth when the next contraction came.

He pushed, and the shoulders still didn’t budget. “S…shit! You’re st…stuck. Nhgn!”

His pussy was burning and his body was urging him to push, it was screaming at him to push the baby out, but even when he used all of his might, the shoulders didn’t seem to budge. Another contraction hit him, and he could only whimper.

With a low moan, Aiden rolled and crawled over as he could, getting on all fours. Under him, his tender breasts fell free and his swollen stomach swung with every movement as Aiden rocked back and forth.

“Ohhh…hgn…” he moaned, rocking his hips in the air, “..please!”

Another contraction rippled through his stomach and his arms trembled as he bore down with another push. This time, the shoulder moved slowly a bit. Just a bit, enough to stretch his hole out even more.

“Ahhghnnn! Fuck…!” He whimpered, trembling at the sensation “Mhgn! Nhgn!”

He whimpered. His body trembled as he screamed at the feeling of the shoulders, huge and broad and stuck, opening and stretching his hole. They were stuck.

“F…fuck! Nhgn…!” He gritted his teeth as he pushed.

The shoulders moved a bit more.

“Please…nhgn…baby!” He moaned, sweat dripping down his face. “Ahgn…f…fuck!”

Aiden crawled back to a squat. His pussy was throbbing, begging for relief as his legs trembled beneath him, and another contraction took over his body. He reached his hands behind him and pressed against his lower back. The muscles tensed, his back arching, his pussy burning as the shoulders refused to move.

“Ughnn! Fuck!” he panted, breathing heavily as he squirmed in place. “Shi- hgnn!”

A contraction hit him and he let out a strangled cry, his eyes squeezed shut tight. He pushed again, his fingers pressing hard into the skin of his thighs as he leaned his weight forward.

“Ohhhh nhg…!” He cried out in pain, tears running down his cheeks. He panted heavily, his breathing shaky, and he rocked forward.

This time, when he pushed, the shoulders finally came out of him with a gush.

“Ow! Ah-hn…!” he panted, catching the baby's body.

Aiden gently held the small naked bundle in his hands, staring at the crying baby in his hands and catching his breath. He did it, he thought. He did what his body was meant for, what he was supposed to do, like the good girl he was.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Baby Formula

Dp x Dc Crossover

Duke was having a slow day when he heard the cry of outrage just across the street. He sees the store owner let go of the little kid he had latched onto and pull his hand close to his chest. The kid picked up the box he dropped and turned quickly to sprint away on tiny legs.

“He bit me!” The man screams as he stares angrily after the boy.

Instead of his training to intercept the thief and return the stolen merchandise, Duke follows his gut feeling and just tails the running boy.

From what he can see, the kid it young, maybe six he guessed (he’s not great with ages that young), with black hair and worn clothes. Homeless most likely, or a run away.

The boy slows down and hides in an alley to check to see if anyone is following. Duke takes this time to jump down in front of him.

Blue, blue eyes snap to him and widen in surprise.

“Hey, kid,” Duke greets casually, still crouched to get closer to his height.

The child shift from foot to foot, obviously debating with himself whether to run or not while eyeing him critically. Not easy to trust. Expected.

“Whatcha got there?”

Little hands grip the box of baby formula closer to his chest reflexively and then hides it behind his back. He shoves the water bottle fuller into the pocket of his too large hoodie.

“Nothin’.”

Duke hums.

“I don’t wanna get you in trouble,” he eases. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need any help,” the boy denies immediately.

“You might not, but what about your baby sibling?”

The boy tenses and his eyes narrow dangerously. So Duke was right.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Why should I tell you?” The boy fires back venomously.

Duke shrugs.

“That’s fair. I’m Signal by the way.” No response, not that he was expecting one. “I do need to know that you guys are staying somewhere safe. You’re a really good brother for looking after your baby…”

The boy frowns. “Sister.”

“Your baby sister and getting her formula, but I’m sure you’d also like to be playing instead of stealing. Am I close?”

“I can help take care of Ellie just fine,” the boy defends hotly.

‘Help’. He’s not the only one.

“You can, but you shouldn’t have to. You’re just a kid too. I wanna help make sure you guys are taken care of. Nothing bad will happen if you show me where you guys are staying,” Duke tried to argue calmly.

He hasn’t had much experience with this kind of situation but he needed to make sure they were in a safe place. Child trafficking had gone down after Red Hood made his displeasure known, but it wasn’t nonexistent.

The kid shifts again.

“They’ll split us up if they throw us in foster care. You can’t call CPS. Promise you won’t.”

He didn’t even hesitate.

“I promise I won’t call CPS.”

The boy thrusts his free hand forward with his pinky out.

“Pinky promise,” he insists.

Duke has to lock down the smile that threatens to creep up on him. Professional. He needed to stay professional.

He wraps his gloved pinky around the tiny finger in front of him and reiterates the promise. Greasy, black hair flops as the boy nods sharply in acceptance.

“Okay.”

Duke does smile a bit then. “Okay, lead the way.”

The kid hesitates for a second before shaking his head and huffing. He leads the vigilante through back alleys for quite awhile before they come up to the back of an abandoned building.

The kid turns back to him with his hand on the edge of a piece of plywood blocking the entrance.

Duke couldn’t tell exactly what the boy was thinking, but he knew he was second guessing. However, with the bright glow this kid was giving off that make Duke think he was a meta of some sort, he couldn’t let him walk away.

The boy continues on like he didn’t even pause, pushing the board aside and slipping through the small crack. Duke follows closely behind as they travel through the place that looks like it used to be a restaurant that had burned down. They walk until they make it to the only room with light, a storage room, and find a red headed girl, older than the boy but still young, holding a baby as she boils something on an old burner.

She looks up and freezes when she sees him.

“Don’t freak out,” the boy interrupts.

“Danny,” she says slowly, her teal eyes zeroing in on her little brother. “Why did you bring one of them here?”

‘Danny’ pulls the water and formula forward sheepishly. Her eyes widen.

“Danny,” she says with disapproval.

“Ellie only has one pack left, Jazz, I had to do something.”

“You didn’t have to steal,” Jazz hisses. “Dan will be back with-“

“Yea, well, he forgot last time, so what were we gonna do then, huh?”

Four names. Four kids living in a burned to hell building that he’s surprised is still standing.

The two kids stare each other down until baby Ellie starts squirming and fussing, reaching for Danny. The boy huffs and takes the baby, looking almost comical with how small they both were.

“I wanted to make sure everyone was okay,” Duke said to alleviate the tension in the too small room. “I just want to help.”

“That’s what people say before they call CPS on us and we have to run again,” she glares harshly, standing from the floor. She didn’t even reach his shoulders.

“And I promised I wouldn’t.”

“He pinky promised,” Danny adds in a hushed tone.

Studying the other kids in the room, Duke can see that Ellie was as bright as Danny, just a different color, and Jazz only had a slight glow.

“How old is Dan?” He asks.

Jazz puckers her lips like she sucked on a lemon.

“Old enough,” is her answer.

“Nobody is in trouble,” he reassures.

Neither of the siblings answer for a minute, Danny nervously looking between the vigilante and his sister, and Jazz staring Duke down with narrowed eyes.

“He’s sixteen,” Danny confesses.

Jazz shoots him a scalding look, to which the boy shrugs off with no guilt, but doesn’t deny it.

The oldest isn’t old enough, which was what he was thinking, but it still put him in a weird position. Should he call Bruce? He should definitely call Bruce.

Jason would be so much better at this than Duke. The Alley kids love and trust Red Hood, but this technically wasn’t Crime Alley.

“I want to help,” he says.

Jazz folds her arms over her chest and he doesn’t blame her for her suspicion.

“How?”

Yea, he’s working on that.

“Who the f*ck are you?”

The snarl comes from behind him and he whirls around to see a teen that greatly resembles the boy. This must be Dan, but holy macaroni, he didn’t even hear him come in.

“That’s Signal,” Danny says, passing Ellie back to Jazz who takes her and steps back from the angry teen.

“Yea, I can see that. Why is he here?” Dan growls.

Danny squares his shoulders and lifts his chin.

“I brought him.”

Dan snaps his glare from Duke to the little boy.

“You WHAT?” The shout sounds too large in the small room and Ellie immediately starts crying. “What the hell are you tryin’ to do, you little sh*t?”

“Hey,” Duke says firmly, trying to redirect the anger to himself. “I would have followed him anyway, it’s not his fault.”

It doesn’t work because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he’s rounding on Danny again.

“I told you to stay here,” he points at the small boy who looks equally scared and defiant. “What were you doing out there, idiot?”

“You didn’t get formula last time,” Danny emphasizes the ‘you’ heavily. “So I went out and got some. You’re welcome.”

“You little-“

Duke intercepts the bulky teen when he lunges at Danny trying to grab the front of his shirt. From the way Danny backs up quickly, it’s not the first time.

“Knock it off,” Duke growls at the teen. “He’s a kid.”

“He’s a snot-nosed little brat,” Dan snarls at his brother and then turns his ire onto Duke, pushing the vigilante away with a giant shove. “And I’m guessing you’re gonna turn us over to those corrupt social workers, huh? Well good luck.”

“No,” Duke denies with his hands up. “I don’t want to do that. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“He pinky promised,” Danny insists behind Dan after the teen shifted to stand in front of his siblings.

“Shut up, twerp,” Dan snaps but doesn’t take his eyes off Duke. “Then what do you want, vigilante?”

This situation has escalated.

He lowers his hands to his sides to level with the guy.

“I just want to help,” he states for the umpteenth time calmly.

“Yea? And how you plan to do that?”

Dan has been burned before, Duke could tell. His distrust is valid with what he’s probably experienced in the past, and Duke doesn’t really know how to make the brightly glowing teen calm down and not snap his teeth (fangs? Were those fangs?) at any hand trying to reach out.

“I know a guy,” Duke blurts out. Geez, where was Babs when he needed backup?

“You know a guy,” Dan repeats with healthy doubt.

“He can find you a place to live. A place that isn’t a burnt down pizzeria.”

“You mean a foster home,” Dan glares.

Duke couldn’t really deny that.

“How about I talk to him and maybe we can set up a trial period? How does that sound? He’s got plenty of money and extra rooms to spare. Good food too,” Duke compromises. He hopes it’s enough to sweeten the deal and not set off red flags.

“We have a history with millionaires,” Jazz says with a cautious edge. From the dark look on the boys’ faces he can read it’s not a good kind of history.

“Technically he’s a billionaire,” he couldn’t help but say, “but he’s a good guy. I promise.”

“You’re talking about Bruce Wayne,” the red-head states in realization.

Duke thinks to himself that she would get along great with Barbara and not just because of their similar hair color.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me a little and give him a chance. If it doesn’t work out, he’s found homes for other kids before. He’ll make sure you guys stick together. I know how bad the system is, I get it, just… let me help. Please.”

The others look to Dan, the eldest, to make the decision. He glares hard at Duke, and if he hadn’t stared down actual super villains before, the vigilante might actually be scared.

After several long moments, Jazz speaks up in a hushed tone.

“I think we should try.”

Dan raises his lips in a silent snarl, clearly not liking her opinion, but not outright rejecting it. Danny huddles close to Jazz, gripping her shirt tightly, but looking between Dan’s broad back and Duke only a few feet away hopefully.

“One month,” Dan growls lowly and Duke has to keep the sigh of relief from escaping. “We’ll do this trial period for a month and that’s it. If we want to leave, then we leave and nobody calls the police on us. Got it, Yellowjacket?”

“Got it. I’ll talk to him. Just don’t leave, okay? I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Dan huffs and his eyes shift to the door in silent demand to get the hell out. Duke slowly makes his way over.

“Just don’t take it out on the kid. He was just trying to help,” Duke adds, trying to lessen whatever punishment Dan was going to give Danny after he left.

Dan snarls with, yes those were fangs, “Don’t tell me how to raise my brother.”

Duke lifts his hands to back off and then promptly leaves.

He grapples to the nearest roof and immediately calls Bruce.

“Hey, yea, I’ve got four kids you’re about to take in. You’ve agreed to a month trial because the oldest doesn’t trust the system and they all don’t have a good history with rich people. I’ll have Alfred get their rooms set up, but this is me letting you know. Oh, and one’s a baby so you’ll be paying for all the stuff that comes with that. They’ll be at the manor tomorrow so try to show up. Good talk.”

He left the voicemail as the only method of communication like a true Bat. Next was to actually tell Alfred and hope he doesn’t get the disappointed look, though he doubts he’ll get in trouble for helping out some homeless kids. The biggest obstacle will be Damian, but as long as there is some sort of buffer (i.e. Dick or Duke) it should be fine. Probably.

[bakugoushotwife]

inextricable (sasuke x reader)

a/n: just gonna dip my toes in the naruto water..see what we think. It's been so long since I watched Shipudden so if I get something wrong...no I didnt xoxo. this is definitely gonna need a second part, I wanna see if anyone likes it before I get too ahead of myself.

summary: Itachi spared two souls that night, his brother and the sister of the man he held most dear. No one can find the second Uchiha, no one can find out that there is a pureblood male and female still alive, ones that were born to be...inextricable.

pairings: sasuke x reader, maybe some naruto x reader if you squint

warnings: mentions of blood and death, angst!!! asshole Uchiha nonsense, dad mode Kakashi, reader is a bully lmfao, uhhhh long as shit

wc: 7840

next final

You were born to be best friends. At least, that’s what each of your parents had in mind. When Hae Uchiha told Mikoto that she was once again pregnant, the latter practically jumped for joy. She was a few months along with another boy, and she imagined your mother’s next child would make a perfect pal for her second born. Itachi and Shisui got along famously, the two borderline inseparable. 

Mikoto extended her hand to cover Hae’s not-yet showing stomach. “How far along?” She asked with a warm smile on her lips. 

Hae closed her eyes and returned the same embraceful grin. “Just a few months, she should be born soon after your boy!” 

“She! How exciting, I’m sure Sasuke will protect her for her whole life! Have you decided on a name yet?”

“Y/N…I always dreamed of naming my daughter Y/N.”

Mikoto returns her hand to her own stomach, her bump showing through. “That’s beautiful, Sasuke and Y/N…yes, they’ll be another version of our Itachi and Shisui!”

Hae beamed, knowing that her daughter would have a forever ally. 

Well, she had hoped, anyway. 

Nonetheless, you and Sasuke never spoke. He went out of his way to stay out of your path and you did the same for him. Truth be told, there was a great reason. There was hurt, and anger, and most forcefully, the fear, and what you had to do to hide. 

You had been friends, once. Just like your mothers had wanted, from birth, the two of you became inseparable. Where Shisui was a few years older than Itachi, feeling like an older brother to two now; Sasuke was only a few months your senior, making the two of you closer than even your own siblings.

Make no mistake, Shisui’s love for his younger sister was widely known and highly regarded. One might mistake you as his own daughter, if he wasn’t just nine years old. You were a much anticipated gift to the boy, he had been begging for a sibling for years. And his parents tried and tried to fulfill this wish, overjoyed when it came true. You truly were the pride of your branch, as hard as it may be to believe with Shisui’s reputation. Itachi was always kind, about six years older than you. Itachi would often babysit the two of you, being the perfectly responsible young man he was. Itachi was just happy to see Sasuke happy, and bonus points for you as well. He seemed oddly relieved that Sasuke had someone to grow attached to.

So you were, for about six years. You learned to walk together, he learned how to spell your name before he learned to spell his own, you refused to take naps without him. Once, Shisui and Itachi built little tricycles for the two of you, Sasuke’s purple and yours green. You rode those tricycles all over the village, laughing in the hot Konoha sun. You would traverse to the mountains and collect fruits to bring back for your mother to bake into sweet pastries. It was magical, it was perfect. Until that infamous night. 

That fateful night, the night that tore apart mind and soul, body and spirit. You thought it couldn’t get any worse. A hole had been left behind when Shisui died, something irreparable and ever painful. You couldn’t call it a void, for it was too powerful. It was nearly two years ago now, your tiny body and soul already weighed down with his loss. It created a rift between you and Sasuke, too. Itachi was blamed for his death for a while, and it hurt even more to feel so alone. You felt like you were drowning and no one was there to pull you back up, no one to even notice you slipping away… 

You had grown numb to the life that was without Shisui and Sasuke, you went to training and classes like you were supposed to. You did what you were told at home, your parents just as much a shell of themselves as you were. Everything that was colorvision faded to dull grays and empty blacks. Where you once saw beauty, you saw injustice. Where there was once love there was now ugly pain that had rooted, hatred growing in its place. Hatred for who? For Shisui, for dying? For Sasuke, for letting rumors pull you apart? For the forces of the universe that caused it all to begin with? You weren’t quite sure, maybe it was a mixture of all three. 

When you came home that evening, it took you a moment to realize. The house had been quiet since Shisui passed, there was simply no joy without him. Yet still, you were used to the sound of your father’s footsteps shuffling through the kitchen, the clink of dishes. The sound of your mother turning pages in her book–everything was silent. Eerily so. A dread washed over you, familiar with the haunting ache. What was left of your heart sank in your stomach as you realize there was blood on the walls. Your breathing became rapid and shaky, you crept down the hall, hoping it was some cruel joke from the village or–or maybe it was paint!

There was no humor in what laid before you that night. Your parents lay slumped over, almost like they were sleeping. Kagami laid propped up against the wall, seated perfectly on the floor with his head tucked into his chest. Your mother’s head lay in his lap, her torso twisted at an awkward angle, legs sprawled. 

Tears cloud your vision immediately. You could feel your knees wobble and buckle, seemingly too heavy for yourself all of a sudden. You fell forward, hands and knees catching you and making a sickening squelch. You realize the stickiness soaking into your skirt was blood, the dark red blood of your parents. You scream. It’s more of a wail, your entire body wracked with emotion so strong, your eyes begin to burn. It hurts, it gives you a headache, and when you force your eyes open again, the world looks different. It felt…slower. You can see a glistening trail of what you can identify as chakra, it glows all over the house, coming in through a window and leaving through the front door. This had happened before, when Shisui died. Your sharingan was activated for the first time. This was different, it felt like a new level. You pull yourself up, running at the door. You throw it open and run into the street, tracking the chakra house to house where you only find more slumped over bodies. The entire clan, everyone…they’re gone. They’ve been slaughtered, every last one. You can’t bear it when the chakra trail leads you down Sasuke’s path, knowing you would find the last of your home in there. You never got to make amends, never got to reunite. Sasuke would be dead, just like everyone else you ever cared for. 

You’re stopped in your tracks when you see a figure in the street, you notice glowing red eyes, the pattern so familiar you couldn’t help but gasp. “I-itachi?” Your chin wobbled, the tears coming back as you ran closer, relieved to find someone alive, someone you know. 

“Back away, child.” His voice thundered, it chilled you to the bone. He had never spoken to you like that. 

“Itachi, it’s m-me! Y/N, you know me! I-I’m scared Itachi!” You plead with him, the new vision of yours highlighting the blood on his clothes the closer you got to him. 

“The second tomoe..” He revered, a nod of approval following, just as quick as it came, the familiarity left. He was icy again when he spoke, “You should be scared. You’ve realized what I’m capable of.” 

You fall back, astonished. This couldn’t have been, no, you refuse to believe such a thing. Itachi wasn’t…capable of this? He looked as if he was going to speak again, but another figure moving rapidly towards you grabbed his attention. It was Sasuke, alive after all. 

“I don’t believe it!” Sasuke said, tears streamed down his face, “This is too unlike you, Big Brother. I mean…” He looked around wildly, finding solace in your presence, relief. You couldn’t help the tears, the same relief he had coursing through your own mind. Itachi had spared you both, but why?

“You have the potential to become my opponent.” He directed his voice to his younger brother, ignoring you completely for the time being. “You are someone who could be able to use Mangekyo Sharingan just like me…” The wind blew ceremoniously, whipping up leaves from the ground and sacrificing them to the sky, to the full moon that was the only light to go by. “However, on one condition…that you must kill your closest friend..Just like I did.” His gaze flickers to you then, making Sasuke’s eyes widen. 

Sasuke gasps, as do you. Itachi really did kill Shisui. He has now killed your entire family. Your brother, his best friend, died senselessly to the little brother he never had. You were wrecked, this realization makes your head spin, the boy you’ve known since birth…Itachi Uchiha was a cold blooded killer, and your life was forever destroyed because of him. 

“That was…your doing?” Sasuke’s brows knit together in shock and confusion. “Big Brother, you…killed Shisui?” 

“That’s right…and because of that I obtained these eyes.” Itachi replied stone-faced. As if you needed the confirmation, but hearing the words from his very mouth absolutely ruined whatever remained of your soul. You felt your eyes burn once again, the vision skewing, leaving you momentarily blind before you blinked and everything was clear again. It was clearer than before, you could sense the movements of two brothers before they did them, this shouldn’t be possible. You had just awoken your second tomoe minutes earlier, had you already gained the third through this extreme emotional distress? There was rigorous training involved to level up your eyes, you could feel the drain it put on your body as it began to sway in the wind, feeling light. You couldn’t hold on much longer, you knew that, but you were in danger…and so was Sasuke, you had to fight for consciousness. 

“If you attain these eyes, you will become the third person including myself to utilize the Mangekyo Sharingan. However,” He turns abruptly, startling you both. “Neither of you are worth killing. And one day, Sasuke, when you have the same eyes I do…come and stand before me!” Itachi challenges, his eyes swirling into his familiar triangular pattern. 

“And you…” Itachi says, beckoning you forward with the point of his finger. “Come here, child.” He says, issuing an order. Sasuke makes a strangled struggling noise before he falls to the ground, the emotional distress leveling his eyes too fast as well. He was in a genjutsu, you realize, by the sounds he was making on the ground, crying out in agony. 

“Let him out of that! I’ll go with you, I won’t fight. Let him out.” You plead, not in the position to make any demands yourself. Even fighting wouldn’t get you out of this, Itachi was far too powerful, you could never hope to escape. 

Itachi chuckled dryly and shook his head. “No. He needs this. He will foster hatred and turn it into immense power. You…you have to be hidden.” He says, his voice in a dream-like state. He was thinking deeply, wondering what he should reveal to you. Enough to keep you alive, and nothing more. “You will stay away from Sasuke…until it’s time. No one can know your identity. It’s imperative you understand this, child.” He says, and if you didn’t know any better you would think he was panicked. Itachi kept calling you that, child, as if he were not. He was only 14, but he clearly felt much older. 

You were confused, but didn’t even know where to start asking him questions. He didn’t wait for a response, just sweeping you up in his arms and jumping from rooftop to rooftop until he was in the trees with you, Sasuke long abandoned on the outskirts of the village. Itachi was taking you somewhere, apparently to be hidden. “Itachi-san–please, I’m scared, I don’t understand!” 

“You need to be scared! You have to understand. Force yourself to. They can’t know that I left you alive, they know Sasuke will live…they can’t know that you do as well…it would be most troublesome…” Itachi explains without explaining a single thing. Who are “they”, and what involvement do they have in this? “A male and a female Uchiha could save the clan, they will not let that happen. I owe this to Shisui.” Itachi says quietly, dropping down in front of someone’s door. 

A man opens the door before Itachi can make a single noise. He was waiting for Itachi, you realize. 

“Here she is.. Train her to be strong, stronger than you. Keep them apart, keep them safe.” Itachi pleads, or as close to it as he can get. He sets you down, letting you see your new caretaker for the first time. 

“I understand, Itachi. It’s best if you get a move on, they’ll be on your scent soon.” The taller man says, the cover of the night obscuring your vision of him. 

Itachi nods, taking one last look at you with a trace of pain in his eyes. You look down at your feet, not sure what to make of the situation, everything happened so fast. “Thank you, Captain.” Itachi says with a curt nod before disappearing into a puff of smoke. 

It was silent. The wind blew again, whipping your hair into your face and pushing the clouds across the moon like it was a normal night. You begin to cry, everything so overwhelming you couldn’t help but do anything else. You’ve lost everything. Your family is dead, every single one. You, the sole survivor, have been placed with a stranger by the very man that murdered everyone you love. The last person alive that you care for is trapped in a genjutsu, lying on the pavement outside the house of his murdered family. 

The man crouched down to be on your level. He looked young, but you couldn’t really tell. His face was mostly covered, his shinobi headband covering his left eye and a black mask pulled over the lower half of his face. The most notable thing about him was his tall and spiky gray hair. His one brown eye looked at you sadly, and at once you knew he understood. You felt more at ease nearly immediately. You were still wary, after all he seemingly knew what was going on and had worked with Itachi. But the look in his eye and the expressive way he puts his hands on either arm of yours makes you feel safer. He knew sadness too, you recognized it in him. 

“Hello, little one. I know this has been…a horrible night, to understate…but you’re strong. You’re safe now, I’m Kakashi, and I’ll make sure of that.” He nodded determinedly, searching your expression for your next move. He frowns under his mask as you cry, unsure of how to console a young girl at his age of twenty two years. 

“What’s wrong with your face?” You ask, sniffling out your sentences and wiping viciously at your eyes. Your mind was all over the place, you didn’t want to think of this night anymore but the only other thing you could ponder was why the man in front of you dressed like that. 

He chuckled earnestly. “Oh!” He pushed his headband up to reveal a long scar running lengthwise over his eye and down his cheek to where the mask starts, but most strikingly a sharingan sat in the eye he kept covered. The sharingan consumes a massive amount of chakra for non-Uchiha wielders, so you gather that the eye was given or stolen almost immediately. 

“That’s partially why he left you with me. I can help with some of your training. You’re in luck, little one. The Hokage has just released me to be a jonin Sensei. So you’ll get first class training living with me. I…I know I can’t replace what you’ve lost, or hell..even understand what you’re going through.” Kakashi slipped his mask down just for you in this moment, wanting to earn the trust of his new foster child. “I will protect you and make you strong, smart, and ready for this world. It’s you and me now. I set up a room for you..” he adds rather sheepishly, sliding his mask back up after a nervous smile. “We can..make changes to it as time goes on, I wasn’t sure what would best be suitable for a girl of your age.”

You blink at him,eyes still bleary from leftover tears. You wipe at your eyes, your own sharingan taking in his full appearance and making a mental note. His half-baked motivational speech was partly moving, and you could tell he was genuine in this. You tilt your head to the side to analyze him further. He was young, taking on a six year old at his age was surely difficult. He was nervous, you could see that much, but his chakra was powerful and in a way, calming. 

“What about Sasuke?” You managed as he opened the door to his place. 

Kakashi sighs. “He will be taken care of, don’t worry. We have to keep you separate for now, it’s for the best. When you start school it may be different. Do you remember what Itachi said?” He asks, partly wondering what all the boy even told you. 

You nod. “He said they can’t know he left me alive. I don’t know who they are though.” You say, feeling everything all the time all at once. Pain, numbness, sadness, fear, nervousness and wonder. Your eyes were wide and your sharingan kept glowing, a red beacon in the dark night. You looked inside the home, small and neat. It looked like…a real place, which surprised you for some reason. With the night’s events it was becoming difficult to predict what would happen next, in your mind he was going to open the door to a slaughterhouse or some medical lab for testing. You were relieved to see it was a completely normal apartment. The young man led you to a decently sized bedroom right across the hall from the bathroom. It was decorated haphazardly, pink cherry blossom wallpaper was slapped on the wall, a little bed covered up with pink blankets sat in the middle of the room. There was even a closet outfitted with a few changes of clothes, luckily regularly colored. It was a nice effort, you recognized. It was natural for any young man to assume a six year old girl would love pink. Your favorite was green. It reminded you of rolling down hills and the bushes you would pluck fruit from, the trees the sun peeked over, the tricycle your brother built…and Sasuke’s was purple. 

“I hate pink.” You say solemnly, feeling bad almost immediately, he had tried to think of your comfort and here you were, being rude. “B-but it looks nice! Thank you…” You looked to him a bit confused on how you should address him. 

“Kakashi, that’s fine for now.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed for giving you a stereotypical girl room. It was clear that there was nothing to be assumed about you. “What color do you prefer, in that case? I can work on a replacement tomorrow.” Kakashi offered with a closed-eyed smile. 

“Purple.”

Kakashi followed through on his promise. The next time you went into your room, the walls were painted a deep plum, the covers that decorate your bed were as purple as the evening sky after the sun had left, and on a table you noticed a few more trinkets and accessories. There were hair ties and clips, little earrings and a purple headband. He heard the word purple and ran with it. Kakashi wasn’t sure why he displayed all this effort, well he had an idea.

He had knocked against your open door, just to alert you to his standing there. You still looked so sad. It had only been a day after all. At least you had stopped crying, he would happily take the progress. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded over his chest. “I hope some of those things make you feel a little more at home, Kurenai helped me pick them out…” He mentioned, once again, scratching at the back of his head nervously.That was his nervous tick, you noted. 

“Thank you, they’re pretty..” You say with a small smile, reaching for the headband and slipping it over the long black locks signature of your clan, luckily it was also a common characteristic of the citizens of the Stone village. That’s the story, anyway. Kakashi found you on a mission while in Iwagakure. You were newly orphaned, and had no one else to take you in. Which, now that you think about it, isn’t much of a lie at all. You were new to the Leaf village, and Kakashi was your young and kind foster father. It gave him a reason to change, and he didn’t know if he liked that yet; he did know that he wanted you to grow into a powerful kunoichi, and he had no doubt you could accomplish that. 

He cleared his throat. “You know, Y/N…I..” He hesitated, wondering if it was worth mentioning at this moment. He sighed out and continued. “I lost my father when I was six, as well. I don’t pretend to know everything you feel, but I do understand some of your pain. You can talk to me, when or if you ever want to. I’ll listen.” 

You look to your feet, the tears pooling in your eyes again. His kindness was overwhelming at times, you hadn’t expected him to be so warm. He just retired from the Anbu after all, and you were old enough to know what that meant. You nod your head after a minute, picking up a purple fuzzy stress ball. You squeeze down, finding it helps temporarily. 

“Mhm, I will..thank you for being here.” You mutter out after a few beats.  

“A-Alright. We’ll go out for dinner around 7. I’ll come get you.” Kakashi hummed pleasantly, touched by your gratefulness.

You were thankful that you wound up with someone like Kakashi. Last you’d heard, Sasuke was set up in a nice apartment, well taken care of and monitored by Lord Third himself. But he was alone, and that worried you. He was sure to become a cold shadow of the former joyous boy he had been, just as you are. But even you had another person around, someone to at least distract you from the constant pain. Sasuke didn’t have that, he didn’t even know if you were alive. The last thing he saw was his older brother sweeping you up and leaving with you. 

The purple made you feel better. It helped you feel just a little closer to where he was. You hoped he would make friends with the kids in his building, if there was any. You hoped he could power through and find happiness in the little things. Would he try to remember you? Find you, even? Your heart ached, you physically covered it with your hand and winced.  

You decided you hate Itachi. That you would do everything and anything it took to get to him and kill him. You came from a powerful line of the clan too, Shisui was a prodigy and the youngest to ever awaken his sharingan before you did it at four from his death. You committed, promised yourself in Kakashi’s apartment that you would train until your eyes bled, you would master genjutsu just as Shisui had, you would master chakra control. You would learn everything Shisui had mastered, and you would kill Itachi the same way he had killed your brother. 

Little did you know that Sasuke had made himself the same promise. He would avenge his family, your brother in your honor, he would become a worthy opponent and he would use Mangekyo to kill the man that had caused all this pain. 

He was beyond lonely, there was no word to describe the hell he was living. He relived his parents’ death again and again, trapped in a genjutsu by his older brother. But the nightmare was reality. He had no one, everything was destroyed. The only person left was missing at best, dead at the worst. Even once he was released from the genjutsu’s chakra control, the only thing burned into his eyelids was the scene of his parents' slaughter. The only thing he can hear is the sound of your tears as Itachi admits to killing your brother, it’s miserable. 

 Why did Itachi spare them both, did he really just want to fight? Well, Sasuke could give him that. He couldn’t wait to start the academy, to refine his talents and find a rival and friend that could fulfill his needs for the Mangekyo Sharingan his brother wants him to have so badly. There wasn’t a reality that existed where he would kill you for it, as his brother insinuated. He was sure that his new friends would suffice, when the time came. 

Kakashi had arranged for him to proctor your bypass exam the following year. The rules for the Academy aren’t concrete, and you were a prodigy after all. Kakashi stressed your physical prowess and shadow clone jutsu to get you through the Academy in just one year, passing your genin exam easily. 

Over time, your numbness had resided. You found yourself motivated by revenge and desire for rebuilding what was taken from you. Kakashi was a friend and mentor, and he helped you train your eyes and genjutsu regularly. He had to, as you weren’t allowed to display this power outside of the training grounds with no one else around. You had to train harder over the next few years, both your sharingan abilities and those you would use to cover your identity. 

Kakashi and yourself had landed on a plant style jutsu, where you could summon different plants, both poisonous and strangling variations. It reminded many of Hashirama Senju’s wood style jutsu. Your chakra control was impressive, and your inclination toward medical nin was just another tool in your arsenal. You owe most of this to your mentor, who, so far, has followed through on his promise to make you as strong as he can. 

He was impressed by you, a prodigy indeed. It was no surprise you were Shisui’s younger sister. He wondered how you could have absorbed so much from him since he passed when you were so young, now a girl of twelve. He can’t believe he’s had you in his charge for six years now, and how you’ve grown in that time. He cared for you like his own child, even though he was not much older than a kid himself when he decided to take you in. 

It was hard work, especially now. He had been assigned as Sasuke’s sensei, along with two other promising shinobi. He was splitting most of his time between his new team and the child he’s been training for years. He found it hard to hand you over to Kurenai, even though the woman was somewhat familiar with your delicate case. She didn’t know your true identity, as Kakashi would never risk that knowledge to anyone, but she had helped Kakashi with the more delicate matters of your girlhood your entire life. He had kept you in his own training since you graduated the academy, it was time for you to join a team and attempt the chunin exams. He knows you’ll pass easily, so why is it that he’s so nervous? 

Because he knows the days of keeping you and Sasuke apart are over. He knew he wouldn’t be able to prevent it forever, but he wasn’t ready for you to revisit that time in your mind. He didn’t wan your hard work to crumble once you faced your old friend again, under the guise of an adopted Hatake. Would Sasuke call you out immediately? He hadn’t been given the same warnings to stay away, as far as Kakashi knew. The boy was angry, and he was boiling over with immense talent. He had been working with the boy on chidori and other sharingan practices that he had once done with you.  Kakashi knew that there was nothing he could do to prevent Sasuke from seeking revenge, and it bothered him…deep down inside he knew you were the same way, your anger tamed to your own mind. You were quiet all the time, your chakra a lime green–just a few shades lighter than your brothers. He could feel your emotions and recklessness bubble inside you. It was just a matter of time, but the seasoned shinobi worried what would come of the girl once she was faced with the Lone Uchiha, and what would come of him when he saw her. 

You were first. The beginning match was you against a girl named TenTen. You thought she looked silly. Ridiculous, almost. Her speciality was weapons, you heard her talking about it as all the chunin hopefuls piled into the colosseum type building. As far as you could tell, she had no special control of chakra or any impressive jutsu. This would be over quickly. 

The two of you stepped forward, the sound of your first name making Sasuke’s heart stop. He looked over at the scene, brows knitting together in confusion. His teammates, Naruto and Sakura started whispering about the match. But they truly don’t know how to whisper, Sasuke tuning into their every word. Y/N? Hatake…? It looked like you, at least close to what he could remember. But you were definitely an Uchiha, and surely he would have known if you were living in the village this whole time?

“Kakashi Sensei’s daughter?” Naruto asked with a sense of disbelief. “I didn’t know Kakashi Sensei had a family!” He adds.

Sakura slaps him lightly on the arm. “He rescued her from the Stone! She was six when her parents died and the villagers were just too busy to take care of her, that’s what I heard.” 

Sasuke arched his brow in curiosity. Kakashi really hadn’t mentioned you, and the way you walked around the battle ring piqued his interest. You were confident, cocky even. You let TenTen throw a few exploding kunai at you, easily outjumping them. You weren’t using sharingan, he noted, but there was no mistaking that smirk. That truly hadn’t changed a bit, your features easily identifiable to him. It seems like Kakashi attempted bleaching your hair at one point, but it had grown out now. You had dark black roots, your eyes big and dark brown. It was you, there was no argument to be made otherwise. You chuckled at TenTen, making her scrunch her nose up in anger. She charged at you with another kunai. You grasped her wrist, quickly turning it and making her drop the weapon, kicking her hard in the stomach, sending her flying through the air. 

The crowd gasped, knowing the other girl would be seriously hurt if she landed on the hard ground from that height, the power of your chakra control something to be feared. You closed your eyes and weaved a hand sign. Out of nowhere, a giant lilypad caught TenTen, keeping her from serious harm. As the crowd sighed with relief, everyone watched more vines burst free from the ground, tying the opponent to the lilypad without any fuss. 

Needless to say, you won the match effortlessly. Kakashi took a deep breath of relief, wandering over to his own team of hopefuls. 

Sasuke stared at you, watching you help TenTen out of the plant trap once the winner was announced. He didn’t even notice Kakashi coming up behind them. 

“Certainly an exciting first match!” Their sensei said with delight, as if he didn’t know anything about you and was just as surprised as everyone else. 

Naruto nodded with widened eyes before remembering that Kakashi hadn’t mentioned being a father. “Hey, Kakashi Sensei, how come you didn’t tell us you adopted that girl?” 

Sasuke tore his studying gaze away from you to hear the answer to this. 

Kakashi shrugged. “It never came up, of course. My job is to train you as shinobi, not teach you my life story.” He replied coolly, as if they were unreasonable for wondering. 

Sasuke narrowed his gaze at Kakashi, identifying that there was more to the story. There was something he was missing, why would they change your name and try to hide your hair? Why would Kakashi be involved? He needs to find you and ask you himself, because he clearly wasn’t getting anywhere with his sensei. 

But how could he be certain you would talk to him? The last memory you share is his brother basically saying he kept you alive so that he could kill you later. Maybe you were trying to distance yourself from him specifically. Maybe you didn’t know he was here just as much as he didn’t know you were. It was his turn to fight next, but he planned to track you down after the battle was quickly won. You beat TenTen in 18 seconds, his goal was to beat that time. Then he would just have to make you understand that he wasn’t a threat to you. 

He beat your time by six seconds, dismantling Choji Akimichi in 12. You smiled to yourself as you watched him, he was very good. Just as you hoped. It would always hurt to stay apart, you realized then. He surely recognized you from your fight, so now you had to work to keep him away. Just as the battle was wrapping up, you pushed through the crowds, getting stopped by some of the girls your age. You had briefly talked to some of them, but you didn’t care to now. You had to get away, distance yourself. He would surely come looking for you. 

“Y/N-chan! Who do you think the hottest boy here is?” Ino asks, a beautiful blond girl with a ditsy grin. 

You roll your eyes at the question. “Really, that’s what you’re worried about right now?” You ask, confused by her priorities. You turn your head, noticing people parting a little down the way, knowing what that means you turn back to the girl. 

Ino giggles and nods. “I’m a great multi-tasker! I know all the girls are dying to get closer to Sasuke Uchiha!” She purrs, cheeks turning red at the mention of his name. 

You sigh, with forced disgust you groan. “I for one don’t want to be anywhere near Sasuke Uchiha.” You say, folding your arms and walking onwards, hoping the digging comment would keep Sasuke at arms length. 

You should know better than to think yourself lucky. You feel a weight on your shoulder, keeping you from getting away. 

“Why would you say that?” He asked, voice on the quiet side as he stared at your back. Your hair was wavier than it was when you were younger, or maybe it was just because it was so long. 

You scoff. “I don’t owe you anything.” 

It was his turn to scoff. “Y/N Hatake?” He practically hisses at you. “I think you owe it to me to explain why you’re not using your sharingan.” 

You turn and clap your hand down over his mouth. Your eyes are wide with a frenzied type of fear, searching around to make sure no one heard him. “Don’t say that. You don’t understand.” 

He pushed you off him easily, looking at you with a mix of frustration and confusion. “No I don’t understand because no one tells me anything! I didn’t even know you were in the village!” He says angrily. 

You bite the inside of your lip, debating your options. Maybe it would be easier to explain it all, maybe if he could understand why this was happening he could play his role and you could both stay safe. You know that would help put Kakashi at ease. 

“Come with me.” You order pointedly, walking out of the building with the knowledge that you had at least twenty minutes until your next battle. You keep walking, far away from the building or any people.

Sasuke follows you into the treeline, mind racing. He didn’t know what to expect. He eyes you with his sharingan, noticing your abundance of chakra and power. He blinks his doujutsu away.

 “Now.” He orders expectantly, folding his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t know why…” You admit with a shrug, thinking back to what Itachi said that night, both about Mangekyo and how important it is to keep away from Sasuke. “But when Itachi took me away, he said ‘they’ couldn’t know that he spared me, that it was dangerous to have a male and a female. He said it was imperative for us to stay away from each other, “until it is time.” I’m not sure what that means, really. But Kakashi agrees…there’s more to this that I don’t even know.” You explain cautiously, your eyes trained on the boy in front of you. He hadn’t changed much, except for the most striking thing. His features were haunted by grief, the once happy and smiling eyes turned cold and empty. You wonder if he thinks the same of you. 

“I would never hurt you.” He says simply, a hint of annoyance laced through it. 

You blink at him a few times, unsure of how to respond. “I’m not scared of you.” You clarify for him, looking at a spot on the ground. “I’m scared of the ‘they’ Itachi was worried about.”

He considers this, looking at the same spot on the ground that you are, as if there were hidden answers stored there. “So that’s why Kakashi Sensei never mentioned you, then. He doesn’t want me around you.” He determines, the annoyance gone and replaced with a hint of sorrow. 

“It’s not a personal grudge, he knows how hard it’s been on me…” You defend softly, the corners of your lips dropping. “Until we know who I’m hiding from, I have to stay under cover like this. I’m sorry..”

His body tensed with anger, you could tell he was close to snapping. “I want revenge, I swear I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him for what he did to me, what he did to you!” He announces, eyes teeming with tears of anger. “We can get revenge together, we can find and destroy those that caused this, and you can live as an Uchiha, like you’re supposed to! You can’t be a kunoichi without your sharingan!” 

You sympathize with his pain, after all, you feel the same way. His offer of revenge sounds nice, so you nod. “When the day comes where we are ready to seek revenge, I’ll accompany you.” You say, envisioning the two of you as jounin, ready to track Itachi down. 

He smiles when he hears this. “Until then.” He says, taking another look at you. If he wasn’t so damned angry, his heart would be relieved to see your familiar face, just a few years older. You were utterly unchanged, even the grief written into your face seemed to disappear when you smiled. He would keep his distance like you requested, until it was time to enact revenge. 

You wait for Sasuke to disappear back into the treeline before you begin to walk back to the arena. It would be your turn soon, and you intend to impress–without your sharingan–just to prove how powerful you really can be. 

By the end of your second match against Sakura, the crowd of other expecting chunin whispered amongst themselves. It really wasn’t her fault, she was like the others. She was completely unfocused on being strong, only desiring to look desirable. It’s a shame, you hoped she would change after this. Your Venus Flytrap jutsu was too much against any opponent, she was just its latest victim. Your giant flower sprouts from the ground and grabs the unsuspecting opponent in its teeth, releasing venom on your command. You wouldn’t take it that far unless you wished to kill. You make a few hand signs, “Release!” You call, letting Sakura tumble from the mouth of your monstrous flytrap. 

Still the crowd spoke of your victories, all quick and painless. You were surely impressive, and it was no wonder you graduated to genin in a year, just like your adoptive father. “You can tell she’s trained by Kakashi Sensei.” Someone said as you walked past, shaking their head in wonder. 

“She’ll be another heartless Anbu member in no time, just like her dad.” Someone else declared, linking your emotionless victories back to Kakashi’s vicious streak. You wanted to lash out in his defense, but maybe it’s better if they thought that of you. It’s good for them to compare you, as if you were related the whole time. It kept them from thinking anything was off, so you’d take it for now. 

Sasuke was thoroughly impressed with your abilities, though he’d likely never say so aloud. Naruto was also occupying his mind as his rival was also the other popular subject amongst his classmates. Naruto won all of his battles that day, all his classmates plus the mysterious Y/N Hatake made it to chunin. 

Things only spiraled from that day. Kakashi relaxed a little when you told him that Sasuke understood why you needed to keep your distance. He didn’t mind for his team to interact with you as much now, but Sasuke did. 

He hated being close to you while not being able to be close to you. That annoying Naruto was quickly becoming a close friend to you, leaving Sakura to obsess over him. Needless to say he hated everything about that arrangement. He didn’t want Naruto near you in the slightest, and he hated pathetic girls like Sakura. He hated everyone, no one seemed to understand. He was training for a real goal, meanwhile the others just wanted to be cool. He wanted more, he needed more. He would never relinquish this goal. He would never admit that Naruto was stronger than him, even if it meant he had to leave to become stronger. 

You told him that you would go with him, right? That when the day came, when he was ready to seek revenge, you would go with him. That’s what you said. So Sasuke was loud about his plans, he didn’t care to put Naruto down when he tried to stop him from leaving that day. 

Even when Kakashi explained to him that revenge was not all he thinks it is, he was undeterred. The emotions swirling inside him, the life that was stolen away…he had to get that back. And if Kakashi wouldn’t help him do it, then he would find someone who will. 

Sakura tried to stop him too, right on the edge of the village. The two of you sprinted there when you heard, Sakura a mess of tears, you a mess of nerves and emotion. 

You watched with your mouth agape as Sakura begged him not to go, only met with fierce rebuttals and disapproval from the Lone Uchiha. She even offered to go with him, which evoked a warped laugh from the dark haired boy. 

He was different. Completely consumed by his grief and desire for justice. He wasn’t thinking properly, and your heart dropped when you saw several shinobi from a different village drop from the trees. They’re here as escorts?

“Sasuke!” You shout in disappointment. “You’ll make yourself an enemy of the Leaf, just settle down and think about this for a minute, please!” You step forward, past Sakura and her unyielding tears. 

He chuckled with mirth. “This is all I can think about, Y/N. I refuse to let Sakura join me on this, she’ll just ruin her name.” He groaned, appearing behind the girl and knocking her out in a swift motion, laying her body on a bench. You eye him in disbelief. He was serious about this. You didn’t doubt your ability to stop him by force, excepting the three or four sound village ninja that would surely interfere. 

He looks at you with a crazed glint in his eyes. He holds out his hand to you. “Are you ready to go?”

You look from his hand and then back to him, shaking your head in shock. It’s that curse mark, you think to yourself. This isn’t him, he just needs to see that. “Sasuke, you’re being controlled. You’re not thinking clearly.” 

His mouth drops open in surprise. “Oh on the contrary, dear Y/N. I’m thinking clearly for the first time!” He protests, staring at you with disgust. “You told me you wanted revenge too, you told me you’d join me!” 

“I thought you meant when we were finished training! As Jounin! I didn’t think you meant defecting!” You defend yourself, thinking of Naruto’s heartbreak once he discovered that he wasn’t able to keep Sasuke. 

“Pathetic.” Sasuke hissed, shaking his head at you. “You’re weak. That’s why you can’t bring yourself to leave. You know you can’t take revenge, I wouldn’t want you weighing me down anyway.” He spat, his words cut like a knife. 

“Please don’t do this. They’ll send people after you! You can’t do this by yourself..” You plead desperately, hoping against all hope that you could get to the friend you once held so dearly. 

“Watch me.” He says, casting one last disappointed glare over his shoulder before walking to the shinobi waiting to guide him away. 

You watch him leave, the figures disappearing into the trees without a trace. You didn’t even notice the tears begin to roll down your face, nor did you hear Naruto and Kakashi land on either side of your body. 

“Wh-what just happened, Y/N-chan?” Naruto asked innocently, trying to delude himself against the truth before he even heard it. 

“Sasuke left the Leaf.” You reply, eyes fixated on the spot he last occupied in front of you. He was bound to be tracked down or hurt by someone dangerous before he could come to his senses. Had you upset him so badly that he would speak of your secret? Kakashi seems to know what you’re thinking as you make eye contact. You knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, the curse…you can get him, bring him back and have the mark removed. 

“I can catch him if I go now..”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

tags: @cullenswife @sixxze @anele-anomis @cigarettesandicedcoffee @jheneaikosbae

[cherry-pop-elf]

Home Sweet Home

Ron Weasley x Reader

Ron had always been self conscious about his family, and felt like you would leave him if you saw his humble home. That you deserved better. Little did he know, you were about to live the cottage core dream. Just factor in a bunch of hot older brothers, and Ron’s relaxing it wasn’t the house he had to worry about

Set after The Battle Of Hogwarts, and uh No Dead Fred because FLUFF DAMMIT!

Warnings: jealous Ron, self conscious Ron, teasing, a very loaded house, hurt comfort, canon typical angst(?) and of course tooth rotting fluff

Writing Coms Open

“Well…..Here we are-“ Ron swallowed, as the two of you would step from the fire place. You had been begging to visit his family, but his original excuse was that it was too dangerous to travel. Valid, but the war had ended. Sure, just because the war was over didn’t mean things were all tied off. Still, he can’t just hide you forever. You out right threatened to write a letter to Molly, and ask to come over yourself. That made him cave.

“Woah-!” You just beamed, as you set your bag down. You were already utterly enchanted. It was so cozy, and busy! You could hear the many siblings all around the building. Ron had warned you the place would be packed. After the war, it was a need to be closer to family. So, a Summer at the burrow it was. Oh all the romantic partners, jammed in. You included.

“Who should I meet first?!” You asked, as Ron seemed flabbergasted. You were in love with the madness, and hardly were here a minute. Before he could speak, he was tackled by the twins. Ronniekins was quick to fill the living room, as they ruffled his hair. Pinching his cheeks, and just being a menace.

You knew the twins, and Ginny, well. It was Percy, and up, that were as forgien as their hair was orange. Percy was always so busy with his studies, you sometimes forgot it was a gaggles of seven, and not six. Made it more surprising to see him, but not a surprise that it was in a suit.

“It’s complicated-“ Ron was quick to whisper, to make sure you knew not to bring up the Ministry job. You just nodded your head, as you watched the up tight man hang up his suit jacket. Hardly gave the man time to register you were there, before your were suddenly engulfed by the sent of fire crackers. Along with long arms.

“OUR LITTLE RONNIE-KINS IS ALL GROWN UP-!” The twins would give a mock sob, as George would cradle Ron’s head. It was, painfully, easy to tell who was who. Poor George. Still handsome as ever, but that’s gotta mess with your head after all. From identical, to not.

“Alright, that’s four brothers down. Two to go-!” You tried to make sure the mood stayed chipper, while your poor boyfriend was being a knuckle to his scalp. You could hear Molly tsking, before she shouted. “BOYS-! DONT MAKE ME GRAB CHARLIE-!” She warned.

“As if I’m any better-!” That had you turn your head, and woof. He was, oh he was something. The thick muscles, sun kisses skin, freckles, the fire crisped mullet, currently being tied back by blistered hands. Oh he was hot, and literally as well. You could feel the heat on his exposed skin. Given it was a tank top and jeans, damn was there a burn.

“THEN WILLIAM-!” Molly groaned, as he was next to pop his head in. You tried not to wince, but it couldn’t be helped. Half his face was just….Not there anymore. The right side of his face was rough. Blinded eye, his cheek in a permeant split to always expose his teeth. How the scar went through his hair, so to leave a permeant part. Despite it all, there was beauty. Pale complexion from exhaustion with curses, tall frame, long hair. He was stunning.

“Looks like Ronnie-Kins has competition~!” The twins mocked Ron, which made his ears go red. He was always self conscious. Even before you knew he even had brothers. He was always the last out. Even Ginny seemed to have more superiority than him. Despite the fact she was outside, riding her broom, he still would be last to the table. That’s what he thought, anyway.

“Yeah, the married men are in a contest with their little brother.” Bill snorted, as he waved his hand. Showing off his band. “Yeah, sorry, I like my men like I like my dragons. Dragons-“ You had no idea what that meant, but you were certain you’ll learn eventually. You knew not everyone was here yet, after all.

“Can SOMEONE help me with the cooking already?!” Molly shouted, only for every man in the room to scatter. You found that so rude to do to Molly, but then it clicked. Bonding time for you and her. Ok, that was sweet. They get a pass, this time.

“I’m here, Mama Molly!” You chirped, as you hurried into the kitchen. That smile of hers just warmed your soul, as she patted your cheek. “Oh thank you, love.” And like that, you were busy in the kitchen. Happily listening to the endless stories she had to share. Your favorites were of Ron, of course. It was, however, nice to be caught up to speed about the other couples.

Fleur and Bill were married, of course. Ron wanted to invite you to the wedding, but your family wanted to stay out of England until things settled. Smart choice. Charlie finding someone was a surprise, but rumor has it the guy is literally part dragon. That explains that. Percy seemed to hit it off with Oliver, that caught you by surprised. The nerd, and the jock? No way. Fred and George seemed to be sharing Angelina. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it any other way. Muggle twins weren’t the same as magical ones, that’s for sure. Ginny wasn’t a surprise. She and Luna became official a while ago. Everyone knew that poor Ginny felt like she had to like Harry. Seemed the same was for The Boy Who Lived. So it was mutual, and healthy. Good for them.

“Jeez, that’s a lot of food-“ You wheezed, as you had to use magic to float said food over. “Seven kids, six partners. Half of said kids eat like they are five kids at once-!” She huffed, but was happy. Ever since things finally settled down, a proper income was flying their way. Curse breaker, Dragonologist, WWW, Aurur, Quidditch Athelet. Good fortune smiled on them, finally.

“Sorry for being late-! You would not believe the-Oh-! Well if it isn’t Ron’s little honey bee. So happy to see you-!” Arthur didn’t even take the time to pull his robe off. Just so quick to hug you. That made you feel so adored. Didn’t even take the time to deformal. You had to be hugged.

“Seems like just about everyone is here for supper. Fleur and Luna are upstairs, Angelina, Ginny, and Oliver are outside, we just need-“ Before she could finish, you screamed. Why did you scream? Because something was grabbing your ankle. You gave a violent kick, and the thing went flying into the sink.

“THAT WAS NOT CHARLIE-!” A voice alerted you, and the parents, as someone was quick to hurry to said sink. Long salt and pepper hair was a curtain down his back, while he seemed to wear a robe of some kind. Yukata-? Hanfu-? You didn’t really know the names. You just knew it was no bath robe.

“Shouren, we talked about this-“ Molly gave a playful scold, as she wasn’t mad at all. The Weasley twins had to get that playful side from both families after all. “Apologies, I….We haven’t seen each other in months, and I-“ He defended, as you were able to process the scene.

What went flying was a mechanical arm of sorts. The silvery eyed man, full of scars, would soon lower the side of his robe. There was a scarred up shoulder, with plating on it. With a simple click, and pop, the arm was attached. Fingers were given a test movement, before Molly dried it off for him.

“Oh, hello-!” He waved, with his working arm. “Sorry about that, I’m Long Shouren-“ He offered his hand, and you took it. “Weasleys, am I right?” You joke, as to show no hard feelings. Least your screams of bloody murder was making everyone hurry to the kitchen. PTSD does that.

“Wonderful! William set the table, Charlie grab the drinks-“ Molly was quick to run down the list, and send out orders. Like a well oiled machine. Robes were hung up, people were set, and everything was in order. Just one issue. There was zero chance everyone will fit at the table. No worries, with Luna.

“Let’s sit where we feel ourselves feel most at peace, so we can take a moment to savor.” Luna said, ever in her whimsical way. So, everyone was kinda scattered around. As if that was an issue. Weasleys were loud. Voices could carry for miles.

As expected, couples found their ways to snuggle. Molly and Arthur remained at the table, with Bill and Fleur. Same goes for Percy and Oliver. The twins had Angelina squished between themselves on the couch, while Charlie was sitting cross legged with Shouren. Ginny and Luna? They stole the free counter space, and happily kicked their feet.

“This house-“ Ron huffed, as you snuggled into him at the dinner table. That seemed to relax him, a little. Still, he seemed to more so play with his food. Compared to actually eating it. His eyes catching glances at his siblings. Everyone seemed so in tuned with each other. Even Percy and Oliver. Oliver the one to lead the conversation, and Percy listened.

“Come on, eat. Someone’s gotta keep fit to kick some death eater behind.” You teased, with a poke to his nose. Made that freckled thing wiggle, and you were a giggle at it. Maybe he was over thinking it. Despite all the chaos around you all, your eyes were focused on him. All his brothers were so loud in their personalities. Ginny all the same. Loud, beautiful, chaotic, then there was him.

“So who wants to be the next test subject-?” Angelina called, while Luna was quick to raise her hand. “LUNA NO-!” Ginny wheezed, as everyone was laughing at her eager nature. “I lost enough limbs, thank you very much-“ Shouren called, waving his fake arm. “I mean-“ Oliver began. “Do NOT entertain them-“ Percy warned. Bill was just shaking his head at them, as the conversation flowed like water. The time going by.

When dinner had long since been finished, and Bill finished helping Molly with washing the dishes, everyone was sent to bed. Travel was exhausting after all. You couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Bill and Charlie were going to handle sharing a room with two extra people. Those thoughts were washed away, as you entered Ron’s room.

“I know it’s not much-“ He began, only for your gasp to hush him. “YOUR ROOM IS SO COOL-!” You beamed, as you spun around in it. You loved it. It was so him. It also had a semi tiny balcony, that you were quick to look over. Enjoying the warm summer night air. The smell of his home. The smell of him.

“It’s so cozy! I love cozy.” You beamed, as you hurried back in. Happily admiring his many posters, pictures and what have you. It was so perfect, because it was Ron. You couldn’t help it, as you flopped on his bed. Messy with quilts, and smelled of wood and rain.

“Yer not just saying that, right?” He asked, with his ears a soft red. He just always had such low self esteem. Everything felt like it was hidden behind other words. That nothing was honest, but you were. You would sit up, and smiled.

“Ron, you think I dated you for some kind of hero credit? Lame. Give me the cute red head helping teach the first years chess, thank you very much.” You smirked, as his face burned red. Course you remembered that. You wanted to learn chess as well, but you felt shy because you were the same age. So you often just watched, and the rest was history.

“Now come on. I’m exhausted. I love your family, but wow….” You yawned, as Ron agreed. He grew up with them, but the energy is hard to match. Before either of you could fall asleep, you bother were quick to change into your sleep wear. That more so being stealing his shirt before he could even get it on. He allowed it, because you looked good in it.

“Think you can handle a whole summer of this?” Ron asked, as you curled up into his arms. Just like a puzzle. It felt so perfect. His strong arms around you, as he gently played with your hair. Legs a tangle mess, as you both hid under a thin blanket. Able to enjoy the summer night air.

“If I have you, I’ll face anything.” You smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was returned, as he held you a little tighter. As if you said a spell to lock him in place. He felt a little more confident in the relationship now, and that made you so happy.

Hardly a minute went by, and you two were knocked out cold. His snores just perfect for your white noise. The sounds of nature, Ron, an old house full of love, and the crickets outside. With the smells of love, and home, to soothe you. What more could you want? The whole world was in your arms, and no way will you part from it.

[justsomedutchgirl]

‘‘It’s such a shame they died so young, my condolences miss Pevensie.’’ Susan couldn’t remember how many people had said they were sorry for her loss even if she tried. Too many people pretending to know her and her siblings well enough to have an opinion about them. Too many people just saying what is expected of them to say. Because what to those words mean to her? Absolutely nothing.

It doesn’t matter what people say directly to her, she can hear them whisper; about how she’s all alone, about how she had to bury the rest of her family, about how it is such a shame for a young woman to navigate the world without her siblings. As if she hadn’t navigated a new world before, as if she didn’t rule a world before, as if she wasn’t crowned to the radiant southern sun before. Because what do they know? Absolutely nothing.

The sun, although it was not her sun, brought her some comfort by warming her cheeks, even if it was a only a little bit. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the sun, so, so, so far away and o so alone. But still the sun had a purpose, she had lost hers. How could she when the sky had fallen down, the woods all turned to dust and the sea had went dry?  What purpose does the sun still have when there is nothing to give light to, nothing to give warmth to, nothing to shine for. Absolutely nothing.

The southern sun is not enough anymore, true north is gone, western woods make way for buildings to hide from the sun and sailors make there way across the eastern sea using the stars but more often than not a compass. What can the gentle do, when the valiant can’t encourage her, when the just can’t help her and the magnificent can’t protect her. Absolutely nothing.

But she still passes statues of lions, and something about them angers her but comforts her all the same. But there are still people that need to be protected; a lone boy walking past four older boys who look like they found their next target. But there are still people to help; an old man cleaning the graves of loved ones and strangers alike. But there are still people to encourage; the little girl determined to climb the tree just like her brothers did. The sky is still clear, the woods are still great, the sea is still glistening, therefore perhaps the sun can still be radiant. So that there is something left of kings and queens of old.

[descendantsramblings]

Fem! Reader comforting uliana about her insecurity of being not as amazing as her sister (reader and uliana are dating)

I love Uli, I also really like that we got a sibling rivalry/ golden child vs forgotten child dynamic from her because we really didn’t see anything like that in the OG3

Also a big thank you to @an-absolute-waste-of-space for helping me figure out a plot for this because I was absolutely lost.

Strongest Tides

Uliana x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: When the sea witch gets emotionally knocked out of commission, it's up to her girlfriend to man the crew.

Warnings: swearing, tongue kissing that honestly is more of a make out session, first "I love you", pet names

Word Count: 2K

    You would think by now Uliana would have learned not to mess with kids older than her. There was a reason you punched down instead of up, wasn’t there? But of course, her craving to be seen as evil had the ability to cloud her judgment. Though, if she had known that the senior she was messing with had been there to witness the frog incident Ursula had caused, maybe she wouldn’t have. How was she supposed to know that the boy she was mocking was a super senior? Did they really expect Uliana to care enough about who went to school there for her to immediately know exactly who repeated a grade? But now, as she paces in the hallway in front of her girlfriend’s dorm, Uli can’t get his words out of her head. “Is that all you’ve got? How are you and your sister cut from the same cloth?” She was so used to being compared to Ursula. Ella and Bridget almost exclusively referred to her as “Ursula’s baby sister”. But something about his words had her spiraling. How was her sister so much better than her that someone couldn’t believe they were related? There was no way that she was that weak compared to Urs, was there?

   She shouldn’t even be here, this is just proving his point. Ursula would never run to someone to comfort her after being spoken down to. No, her sister would get revenge, immediate unapologetic revenge. She should do the same, surely she should. But the only thing she could think of was the boy’s words. And surely when she walked through this door, the entirety of her crew would be there. Or at the very least, three out of five of them. (Y/n) and Maleficent didn’t tend to spend time away from their dorms unless they were with the crew or on a date, and Hades was always glued to Maleficent’s side. She knew they would be there. Hook and Morgie might be a gamble, but surely if she needed them she could just get Hades to grab them. No point in getting revenge alone, was there? So, despite what her brain told her to do, Uliana’s hand raises up to the door, knuckles rapping on the hollow wood. 

   “It’s open!” (Y/n)’s angelic voice calls through the door, the sound wrapped in a laugh. Maybe being in there would be good for her, did revenge really matter that much? Her hand falls to the handle, a rage still trying to hide her insecurity as she flings the door open. “You will not believe what this fool said to me!” The entirety of her crew turns to face her, Morgie sliding further down (Y/n)’s bed to give her space to sit next to her girlfriend. With loud, angered foot steps, Uliana stomps her way over to the spot, sinking into the soft duvet and school issued mattress. And just as quickly as she can let her back muscles relax, (Y/n) has an arm around her, her thumb rubbing soft circles on Uliana’s hip. “What did he say to you, babydoll?” She’s leaning into her girlfriend’s touch subconsciously, trying to keep her threatening face when it begs to turn into a pout. She looks around the room, taking a deep, centering breath. Everyone who makes her feel cared about in her life has their eyes on her, these gentle adoring things that make it hard for her to keep her composure. This was the safest space she would probably ever know.

   “I tried to cast a spell on this asshole and I messed up the Atlantean and the spell didn’t cast.” Her voice is softer than it was before, everything about her is as the eyes of everyone who loves her circle in on her. “Okay, what did he say, Uli? I’ll hook him,” Hook’s voice walks the line of caring and playful, his smirk falling into a gentle, understanding smile. “He asked me if that was ‘all I had’,” she puts finger quotes around the words, taking a deep breath as she continues, “And then he asked how Ursula and I could have ‘cut from the same cloth’. How dare he?” The circles (Y/n) was rubbing on her hip have turned into hearts, she’s subconsciously pulling Uli further into her as to protect her from an evil that isn’t even there. “So, what did you do?” Morgie’s voice joins the conversation, the bubbly tone floating on excitement’s fire. “I didn’t,” it’s the words that break the damn, sending her into this broken little girl instead of the powerful sea witch she should be. Cuddling further into her girlfriend, face finding a place to hide in the girl’s waiting shoulder. 

    “Well, I say that if he thinks he can speak to my girl like that, maybe he shouldn’t be allowed to speak at all,” there’s a wicked bite to it as she reaches down to grab Uliana’s chin, tilting her head back to look at her. “Who spoke to you like that?” “Facilier,” it’s this soft broken mumble that the whole crew has to lean in to hear. The fact that they were dealing with a witch doctor wasn’t great, but if (Y/n) was confident in anything it was her friends. So she nods, letting Uliana’s face fall back to hiding against her as she turns to the other villains in the room. “Say, Mali, Morgie. Have y’all ever tested what happens when you combine your powers? Like what happens if you cast the same spell at once?” An excited bite of fire dances through both of their eyes,  turning from the girl to each other. “We could try,” Maleficent’s tone is hard to read, but she’s clearly trying to egg him on. Something that is solidified to be working when he tacks on a, “What were you thinking?” 

    “If the second in command is willing,” she turns to Hook with this strange air to her that has a crazed look dancing in his eyes. A rapid nod pushes her to finish her plan. “I was thinking that Hook here could be your brawn, make sure the fool can’t get away before you two can cast a silencing spell together. I mean one spell is great, but imagine the power of you both casting it.” The three of them are bouncing to their feet, Maleficent finding herself tucked between Hook and Morgie who both offer her a hand. “I have one that lasts 24 hours in my mother’s spell book, with both of us I’d put money on it lasting for two days,” there’s a hiss tucked on the end of his words as he pulls the door open. Though (Y/n) can’t see them, she’d bet money on Morgie having snake eyes as he speaks. The three trouble makers making their way into the hall as they whisper about their scheme. 

    “Hades?” He raises a brow to her, arms locked over his chest with pursed lips. “Can you go be their actual brawn?” He’s nodding, this knowing look dancing in his eyes as he stands from Maleficent’s now empty bed, “No way those three could handle dealing with the shadow man without me.” And (Y/n) hums, watching him make his way to the door, “No, there sure is not.” As it clicks closed behind him, she turns back to her girl, taking in her quickly deteriorating front. 

   “How’s my girl?” No words dare to grace her ears, Uliana shaking her head against the girl’s warm shoulder. “Uli,” she’s cooing, reaching down to pull her girlfriend’s legs over her own, softly maneuvering her into her lap. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She hums, letting a hand find the back of Uliana’s neck so that she can rub soft loving circles on it. 

   “You know, if you ask me, Ursula is nothing but a show off. Evil isn’t doing things to get people’s attention like that stupid frog stunt. It’s waiting, planning, being able to strike fear into hearts.” Uliana shifts on her lap, carefully and slowly moving so that she can straddle (Y/n)’s lap. Her face nuzzles further into the crook of her lover’s neck as she settles herself on her knees. A sweet and gentle kiss finding the side of her neck before Uli speaks. “Yeah well, not everyone seems to think so.” She hums, feeling the way a hand has snaked up her shirt and onto her back, the other resting on her waist as if to hold her steady. “Who cares what some idiot who failed his sophomore year thinks?” Of course (Y/n) knew that, she knew everything. That’s what Uliana gets for not coming to her first. “I think that you’re on your way to stealing the title of mistress of evil,” she kisses Uli’s temple, laying them both back on her bed. 

    “Yeah, as if. I am never getting that title.” She welcomes the new position, the ghost of a smile threatening her lips. “You can be my mistress of evil,” (Y/n) has this wicked little amusement to her voice as she says it, the girl carefully flipping them over. Uliana’s legs straighten out the moment her back hits the mattress, eyes screwed shut as if she’s scared to see her partner. And that just won’t do, not for (Y/n) it won’t. She balances all her weight on one arm, pushing back a stray lock of hair that fell over her face, “Let me see your eyes.” “I’m okay, actually,” Uliana shakes her head, knowing what’s going to meet her if she does. She can’t handle the way the muscles in (Y/n)’s exposed biceps are going to be slightly flexed from holding her weight, that gentle, loving look that’s gonna cross her features. No one had ever looked at Uliana like that before she did. Uli wasn’t exactly sure how to feel about it, surely it made her weak. It had to, the way she craved to have someone look at her like that made her feel like she wasn’t evil enough. But if it felt so good, could it really be so bad? 

    “Look at me,” she repeats, letting her lips ghost over Uliana’s jaw, “Let me see my girl.” “You already can,” she whispers, fighting the urge to reach up and pull her girlfriend closer to her. “No, I wanna see you, not your body. You hide everything about yourself in those pretty eyes, did you know that?” Another kiss hits where her jaw and neck connect, the action mixed with her girlfriend’s words making her shiver. “I really don’t think you wanna see me like this, Darling,” the words fall shaky as she feels (Y/n) leave a kiss on the column of her throat. “I want to see all of you, Babydoll, I love you.” Her eyes shoot open, a gasp being ripped through her lips. “You do?” With a smile, the girl is hovering back over her face. This beautiful sense of pride taking over her features, “Of course I do, I’ve loved you since the moment we locked eyes at orientation. You’re the stars in my sky.” There’s no pressure for Uliana to say it back, not even room for her to respond before there’s lips pressed to hers. A soft and gentle motion that she’s suddenly starved for.

   One of her hands comes up to cup (Y/n)’s jaw, dragging the girl closer as she kisses back, pressing her deeper and deeper into the kiss. Something that was meant to be adoring and languid turning into a harsh and needy little gesture. A hand on her jaw and the back of her neck, holding her down against the girl she has pressed into her mattress. A swipe of tongue against Uliana’s lips has them slipping open on a whine, giving the girl on top of her a chance to slide her tongue into her waiting mouth. The kiss becoming a dance of tongues and clashing teeth. Raw and needy and saying more than either girl knew how to put into words. And when (Y/n) pushes back against Uliana’s needy hands, drawing herself up and gasping for air, she can feel the way her lover’s mood has changed. The girl panting for air as she leans her own forehead against the sea witch’s. “God, you are wicked,” it’s a breathy little praise that has the girl beneath her absolutely smitten. “I love you too.”

[deathnguts]

Spare some rabastan lestrange for the needy pls🤲 (i’m the needy and i’d like to know what you think about his dynamic with his brothers)

Sigh, fine I’ll guess I’ll spare some pennies. Thank you for the ask! This is kinda scatter brained and kinda focused on Rodolphus to like parallel/paint how the brothers are together with they are separate and yeah I dunno I threw up

So usually I internalize whatever @florsial (formal apology to you pookie, Im about to act out of line 🫶) says about Rabastan because we tend to agree on things surrounding him but I think we definitely view Rodolphus differently. Which is fine, he barely exists as a character and I think it’s just representative of how we fundamentally view sibling relationships differently. Like I don’t know what it is with me, but I feel the need ti make every sibling relationship I write for either fanfiction or my own work complicated as hell.

So Rodolphus Lestrange. I think he’s a lot like Orion Black. Like he probably even looked up to him kind of when he grew up, (which is kinda funny because Rodolphus probably isn’t much younger than him if at all considering my headcanon that both walburga and Orion were young when they had both their children to kind of get it out of the way) and you can see that in like a lot of how he just is. Hes ‘stoic’ but actually just doesn’t feel a lot of emotions and doesn’t pretend he does, he’s probably like a hair away from being an alcoholic but he doesn’t drink because he knows that (unlike Orion who is very much an alcoholic), hes antisocial and physically annoyed around people because he doesn’t understand why they are as ‘efficient’ as he is and looks down on all of them.

He’s very work oriented, so much so that he doesn’t really have a life outside of it at all. He’s always been the twin the family knew to count on and he always liked having the title so he never had a rebellious stage or any real anger towards his expectations beyond being tired at the end of a particularly grueling work day. I think the only work hes expected to do that he actively doesn’t work towards doing is producing heirs. He doesn’t like kids, he thinks they’re loud and messy and they get in the way of a schedule. It’s like the only thing him and Bellatrix agree on since she also wants nothing to do with kids. (Also quick note on their marriage, I think they pretty much ignore each other and that’s their idea of what they’ll be like forever. When in public together they put on the ‘better than you’ couple mask but in every other scenario they live completely separate lives and actively avoid each other or they’ll find something to fight about.) like the general vibe I could sum him up with is, yes he’s Rabastan’s twin, but everyone who’s ever talked with him assumes he’s like a decade older and just aged well.

So to contrast that with Rabastan, who was never really expected to be anything and never proved anyone wrong, he’s the sort of kid his mother defends no matter what but he father actively tries to forget about. The exact sort Rodolphus looks down on. He can’t help it’s his brother, he’s still below him. And that would be easier to accept if Rabastan stopped proving it over and over. He had to act out in school, he had to move where mother couldn’t find at seventeen, he had to preach to the family that they were ‘immoral’ or whatever, and then he had to preach it to a child, and then he had to marry the child. Like, Rodolphus isn’t a good man by many means, but his lack of feeling or empathy towards people gives him a more head on view of them. And his head on view of his brother is that he’s useless, dramatic, and so desperate to be anything he’ll lie to a little girl to get her to view him that way. And not to say Rodolphus is any better since he witnessed first hand what his brother was doing, he literally walked in on the two hiding away to make out in a corner when regulus was still fifteen and his brother was the same age as himself and just turned back around and never mentioned it to anyone. A truly good person probably would’ve done something. Good thing that’s not what he’s trying to be.

(Also unrelated but I wanna circle back to a point @florsial has that I love about how Rabastan and Regulus are a couple who tries to nuclear and domestic but fails, I feel like that’s a joke on its own especially in this context. The idea that Rodolphus is the nuclear working man so Rabastan must parallel him by being a family man, he just isn’t. Yes he’s closer with his wife than his brother is, and yes that could be something he has over Rodolphus but pretty much no one in their family is proud of Rabastan for his teenage wife and it’s not like their perfect or anything.)

Rodolphus has probably told Rabastan he thinks this only once since he’s usually content to be quiet about it. He probably broke and yelled about how Rabastan will never be anything ro even get his shit together and it won’t matter because no one has hope he will and it hurts because Rodolphus was never given that leeway and it must be fucking nice to have. Rabastan probably doubles back with how much it must be nice for anyone to give a shit about you, to not only exoect things from you but love you even more when you deliver. They probably kept fighting until Rodolphus, as always, gets tired and shuts it down and goes home.

Because even a man who feels nothing has breaking points, especially when Rabastan keeps fucking pushing for one. And that was their relationship a lot of their life, I think. Rabastan desperately wanting to be seen and Rodolphus who is willingly blind. When they were younger that was ok, little kids before hogwarts just played together until father came to take Rodolphus away, growing boys at hogwarts who slowly drift apart when one doubles down on academics and the other found there’s more to do (and not for lack of desperate trying on the seconds behalf.) and then they’re grown up and neither can place what really happened. They’re sure they used to love each other, at least they think so. And they don’t know what happened, because something must have happened. Right?

Yeah I dunno it’s hard to continuously explain but I think what’s tragic about them is that it’s needless. Rabastan could try ti be better and it would not only help his relationships but himself, Rodolphus could try ti be more and he same would happen to him. If either brother were better at being human then they would be better at loving each other. But they’re not, so they can’t.

[ichijager13]

Make it up for you

Summary:  After a heated fight, Eren leaves your shared apartment. when he comes back he makes a hell of an apology.

A/N: I’m in love with an imaginary man and he’s making me raising my standards to unreasonable limits sometimes. This is selfindulgent and I’m crying because I know I’ll never have something like this with him. *Sniff sniff*

“Because I fucking told you not to do it”. he yelled punching the wall behind you. “I asked you not to interfere”. you jolted eyes widening and tears threatening to start streaming down your face. Realizing he scared you off, he quickly backs away. You remain there pressed against the wall in a state of stupor. Eren was normally a calm and put-together person. For you to see him like this was quite shocking. You try to get a hold of yourself, take a deep breath and calm down. You walk towards him reaching your hands to him but before you get close enough, he grabs his jacket and storms out of the house slamming the door behind him.

“Eren wait”. You press your trembling hands against your mouth as you fall to your knees crying.

Eren’s relationship with his father and older brother has always been complicated. You chose to stay out of it since the beginning. But that night when Carla called you on the verge of breaking down and told you about what happened during Eren’s last visit and asked for your help to get things fixed between the two siblings you couldn’t turn your back to her.

“Stay out of it”. he simply said wearing a stern look when you tempted to talk some sense into him. but you thought you were doing the right thing. You thought that by inviting Sieg for dinner, things would get better. You pick up your phone and type a text message but then delete it. if he wants some space to clear his thoughts then you’ll give it to him, even if it’s killing you.

With your sobs calmed, you open your laptop trying to finish your next week’s assignment but you are too distracted to focus on what you were reading. You clench your eyes shut trying to sort out your thoughts but when you remember how hard his eyes were and the violence of his actions your tears start falling all over again. You put down your computer, bring your legs against your chest and sit on your couch sobbing quietly.

You have never seen him this angry in the two years you lived together under the same roof. He has always been nice-tempered and easygoing. You were still in your place when you heard the door crack open. You hug yourself tighter making yourself smaller. Your heart starts pounding and your breath catches when you hear his footsteps approaching. You quickly hide your face not wanting to get a glimpse of his angry expression.

“Hey love, I’m sorry for…”. You crawl to the far side of the couch when you feel the dip in the couch next to you. Eren sighs before speaking again. “I screwed up earlier and I’m sorry”. Getting no reaction from you he added. “It’s not your fault, you thought you were doing the right thing”. He ran a nervous hand through his hair pushing back the strands that framed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have shouted and gotten angry at you”. he placed a hand on your knee. “I’m truly sorry for scaring you”. his voice was filled with genuine guilt. He tried to draw you closer but you nudge his hand the moment it brushed your body. You remain there still for a few minutes before he goes out to the balcony to smoke. You stand up and go to your bedroom, slip into your pajama and hide under the bedsheets. You can’t help but start crying when you hear him closing the balcony door and getting into the bedroom. He undresses silently before he takes place beside you. The smell of cigarettes tickles your nose so you bury your face in your pillow.

He can hear you sniffing and it pains him to know that it’s his fault. When your breathing seems to calm down a bit; he scoops you closer spooning you. You feel his muscled biceps tightening around your shaking body. “I apologize for earlier my love”. He breathes against your skin. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way”. He littered your neck with light pecks. “It won’t happen again, I promise”. His hand slipped under your tank top and started drawing mindless patterns. “Please love, forgive me for scaring you like that”. His lips were ghosting your ear shell as he continued to apologize and express his regrets. “I love you”. he whispered nibbling your lobe.

You slowly roll on your side so you could face him. “I’m sorry, I wanted to fix things between you two. I didn’t mean to upset you”. you are stumbling over your words breathing hastily. His calloused hands run up and down your back trying to comfort you.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault”. He whispers brushing away your tears. “Please, I hate to see you cry”. He pleads before capturing your trembling lips. he continues kissing you until you stop crying. “I love you, my sweet angel”. his words feel like a warm shale wrapped around your soul. you cup his jaw and caress it gently.

“I love you”. you speak voice still quivering from how long you cried. Your lips connect again in a messy and needy make-out. One of your hands slides along his bare chest following the lines of his lean figure. He tilted your face to deepen the kiss before sucking on your lower lip causing a deep moan to escape from you.

“This is the first and the last time I do something like this”. He let out. his voice was husky and filled with urgent need. Bringing your gaze to his, you are met with dark and hungry eyes. Your eyes squeeze shut when he presses his center to yours and starts rolling his hips slowly. “I’ll never scar you like that again”. His hands were molding the fat of your thighs. He is breathing hard and you feel his heartbeat accelerating under your hand. “Let me make it up for you”. he mumbles as his finger hook on your waistband. “Can I?” he asks for your consent before he tugs at it dragging your shorts and underwear along your legs when a shaky yes drops from your lips. you let your head fall back as his fingers go up your legs and brush your inner thighs. “Keep looking at me”. he orders you while massaging your heated entrance. “Wanna see your face shift as I make you forget about earlier”. His middle and index trace the contour of your wet lips and clit before he inserts them inside of you. he groans as your warm gummy walls suck his long digits in. the wet sounds that result from his thrusts make him lose the last threat of sanity he had left in him. he continues stimulating your hungry core as his other hand strip you from your top. His eyes are fixed on your breasts as they bounce while you grind against his hand.

“Eren”. You whine when his mouth closes around your hard nipple.

He catches your hand before it reaches his throbbing shaft. “It’s about you tonight. I’ll take care of that later”. He brought back his mouth to your breasts. He continues massaging your clit with his thumb as his fingers pick up the pace. They go deeper, curling and brushing all your weak spots. Your back is arching underneath him and you are fisting the bedsheets trying to hold on to something. Feeling it’s not enough, you dig your nails into his strong back making him growl. When he feels you clenching around him, he looks up and watches your fucked up face as he makes you reach your peak. “Gorgeous”. He caresses your face flashing you a wide and satisfied grin. “So fucking gorgeous”. He rumbles going down leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses along your body. You gasp and buck your hips when you feel his breath between your legs. He looks up at you slowly dragging his tongue across his lips before he disappears between your burning thighs. He grabs them and parts them further giving him a full view of the mess he made with his digits. He darts his tongue licking your liquids and humming. “And tastes so sweet”. He grits as his wet muscle play with your folds. By the time he pulls away, you are a whimpering and overstimulated mess.

“Eren, enough”. You cried feeling him massaging your intimate part. “Can’t, mmhm, too much”. You slur drunk on what he has been doing to you for the past couple of hours.

“But I’m not done yet”. He pouted bringing his lips against your ear. “I haven’t fucked you yet, I need you to cum on my cock love”. his words made your brain go blank. No matter how many times you had him like this your body always reacts strongly to him. he could fuck you stupid every day and you’d still be a feverish panting mess before he’s even done with you.

“Then quit teasing”. You plead. “Please Eren, I’m tired”. Hearing the magic word, he slammed himself inside of you. you screamed in surprise and pain. With each thrust, he got you stuttering and chanting his name unable to form any intelligible words. He continues moving inside of you even after he cums because he just can’t get enough of the filthy noises you and your cunt are making. When he finally drags his sex out of you, you can barely lift your eyes and look at him when he calls your name.

“So fucked up you can’t even speak huh”. He teases before brushing his lips against your puffy and sensitive ones. “Are you still upset with me?” He asks as he covers your intertwined bodies with a blanket. You slowly shake your head nuzzling his neck. “Good, I can’t go to sleep knowing we’re on bad terms”. He whispers pecking your forehead. “Sleep tight, my angel”. He speaks softly feeling your regular breathing and your body still against his.

“Because I fucking told you not to do it”. he yelled punching the wall behind you. “I asked you not to interfere”. you jolted eyes widening and tears threatening to start streaming down your face. Realizing he scared you off, he quickly backs away. You remain there pressed against the wall in a state of stupor. Eren was normally a calm and put-together person. For you to see him like this was quite shocking. You try to get a hold of yourself, take a deep breath and calm down. You walk towards him reaching your hands to him but before you get close enough, he grabs his jacket and storms out of the house slamming the door behind him.

“Eren wait”. You press your trembling hands against your mouth as you fall to your knees crying.

Eren’s relationship with his father and older brother has always been complicated. You chose to stay out of it since the beginning. But that night when Carla called you on the verge of breaking down and told you about what happened during Eren’s last visit and asked for your help to get things fixed between the two siblings you couldn’t turn your back to her.

“Stay out of it”. he simply said wearing a stern look when you tempted to talk some sense into him. but you thought you were doing the right thing. You thought that by inviting Sieg for dinner, things would get better. You pick up your phone and type a text message but then delete it. if he wants some space to clear his thoughts then you’ll give it to him, even if it’s killing you.

With your sobs calmed, you open your laptop trying to finish your next week’s assignment but you are too distracted to focus on what you were reading. You clench your eyes shut trying to sort out your thoughts but when you remember how hard his eyes were and the violence of his actions your tears start falling all over again. You put down your computer, bring your legs against your chest and sit on your couch sobbing quietly.

You have never seen him this angry in the two years you lived together under the same roof. He has always been nice-tempered and easygoing. You were still in your place when you heard the door crack open. You hug yourself tighter making yourself smaller. Your heart starts pounding and your breath catches when you hear his footsteps approaching. You quickly hide your face not wanting to get a glimpse of his angry expression.

“Hey love, I’m sorry for…”. You crawl to the far side of the couch when you feel the dip in the couch next to you. Eren sighs before speaking again. “I screwed up earlier and I’m sorry”. Getting no reaction from you he added. “It’s not your fault, you thought you were doing the right thing”. He ran a nervous hand through his hair pushing back the strands that framed his forehead. “I shouldn’t have shouted and gotten angry at you”. he placed a hand on your knee. “I’m truly sorry for scaring you”. his voice was filled with genuine guilt. He tried to draw you closer but you nudge his hand the moment it brushed your body. You remain there still for a few minutes before he goes out to the balcony to smoke. You stand up and go to your bedroom, slip into your pajama and hide under the bedsheets. You can’t help but start crying when you hear him closing the balcony door and getting into the bedroom. He undresses silently before he takes place beside you. The smell of cigarettes tickles your nose so you bury your face in your pillow.

He can hear you sniffing and it pains him to know that it’s his fault. When your breathing seems to calm down a bit; he scoops you closer spooning you. You feel his muscled biceps tightening around your shaking body. “I apologize for earlier my love”. He breathes against your skin. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way”. He littered your neck with light pecks. “It won’t happen again, I promise”. His hand slipped under your tank top and started drawing mindless patterns. “Please love, forgive me for scaring you like that”. His lips were ghosting your ear shell as he continued to apologize and express his regrets. “I love you”. he whispered nibbling your lobe.

You slowly roll on your side so you could face him. “I’m sorry, I wanted to fix things between you two. I didn’t mean to upset you”. you are stumbling over your words breathing hastily. His calloused hands run up and down your back trying to comfort you.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault”. He whispers brushing away your tears. “Please, I hate to see you cry”. He pleads before capturing your trembling lips. he continues kissing you until you stop crying. “I love you, my sweet angel”. his words feel like a warm shale wrapped around your soul. you cup his jaw and caress it gently.

“I love you”. you speak voice still quivering from how long you cried. Your lips connect again in a messy and needy make-out. One of your hands slides along his bare chest following the lines of his lean figure. He tilted your face to deepen the kiss before sucking on your lower lip causing a deep moan to escape from you.

“This is the first and the last time I do something like this”. He let out. his voice was husky and filled with urgent need. Bringing your gaze to his, you are met with dark and hungry eyes. Your eyes squeeze shut when he presses his center to yours and starts rolling his hips slowly. “I’ll never scar you like that again”. His hands were molding the fat of your thighs. He is breathing hard and you feel his heartbeat accelerating under your hand. “Let me make it up for you”. he mumbles as his finger hook on your waistband. “Can I?” he asks for your consent before he tugs at it dragging your shorts and underwear along your legs when a shaky yes drops from your lips. you let your head fall back as his fingers go up your legs and brush your inner thighs. “Keep looking at me”. he orders you while massaging your heated entrance. “Wanna see your face shift as I make you forget about earlier”. His middle and index trace the contour of your wet lips and clit before he inserts them inside of you. he groans as your warm gummy walls suck his long digits in. the wet sounds that result from his thrusts make him lose the last threat of sanity he had left in him. he continues stimulating your hungry core as his other hand strip you from your top. His eyes are fixed on your breasts as they bounce while you grind against his hand.

“Eren”. You whine when his mouth closes around your hard nipple.

He catches your hand before it reaches his throbbing shaft. “It’s about you tonight. I’ll take care of that later”. He brought back his mouth to your breasts. He continues massaging your clit with his thumb as his fingers pick up the pace. They go deeper, curling and brushing all your weak spots. Your back is arching underneath him and you are fisting the bedsheets trying to hold on to something. Feeling it’s not enough, you dig your nails into his strong back making him growl. When he feels you clenching around him, he looks up and watches your fucked up face as he makes you reach your peak. “Gorgeous”. He caresses your face flashing you a wide and satisfied grin. “So fucking gorgeous”. He rumbles going down leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses along your body. You gasp and buck your hips when you feel his breath between your legs. He looks up at you slowly dragging his tongue across his lips before he disappears between your burning thighs. He grabs them and parts them further giving him a full view of the mess he made with his digits. He darts his tongue licking your liquids and humming. “And tastes so sweet”. He grits as his wet muscle play with your folds. By the time he pulls away, you are a whimpering and overstimulated mess.

“Eren, enough”. You cried feeling him massaging your intimate part. “Can’t, mmhm, too much”. You slur drunk on what he has been doing to you for the past couple of hours.

“But I’m not done yet”. He pouted bringing his lips against your ear. “I haven’t fucked you yet, I need you to cum on my cock love”. his words made your brain go blank. No matter how many times you had him like this your body always reacts strongly to him. he could fuck you stupid every day and you’d still be a feverish panting mess before he’s even done with you.

“Then quit teasing”. You plead. “Please Eren, I’m tired”. Hearing the magic word, he slammed himself inside of you. you screamed in surprise and pain. With each thrust, he got you stuttering and chanting his name unable to form any intelligible words. He continues moving inside of you even after he cums because he just can’t get enough of the filthy noises you and your cunt are making. When he finally drags his sex out of you, you can barely lift your eyes and look at him when he calls your name.

“So fucked up you can’t even speak huh”. He teases before brushing his lips against your puffy and sensitive ones. “Are you still upset with me?” He asks as he covers your intertwined bodies with a blanket. You slowly shake your head nuzzling his neck. “Good, I can’t go to sleep knowing we’re on bad terms”. He whispers pecking your forehead. “Sleep tight, my angel”. He speaks softly feeling your regular breathing and your body still against his.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

These Clone Wars headcanons are long overdue

I saw someone say Anakin couldn’t have taught Ashoka everything cause that man’s stiff as a damn board and I laughed my ass off cause they were right but then it got me thinking that this would be a perfect moment for Ahsoka to teach Anakin something

So she gently persuades him and by that I mean she forces him to do some simple stretches in the morning nothing too bad just stuff you’d probably do before gym class and after a while it kinda becomes a pseudo-joined meditation for them

After a while when Anakin started becoming more comfortable with the stretches she started teaching him yoga which he quickly fell in love with cause he found it was one of the few things that calmed him down as traditional meditation should

When Ahsoka stopped being Anakin’s padawan in the cannon timeline or in my delusional timeline where they both left the order and everyone’s happy he had to find something else to call her and for the first couple of months he would always introduce her starting with “my”

The nicknames would usually fall into one of two categories the first being the unhinged nicknames like “my little hell-raiser” or “my little desert storm” and then there are the cute and sappy ones like “my little Soka” or his personal favorite “my little sister”

And with the last one people would ask “Oh is she adopted” and while Anakin could go the normal route and say yes he would instead go his route and look at the person like they’re crazy and say “No why do you ask?”

Which leads me to my next headcanon of you know when people say “If you spend enough time with something you’ll start to resemble it” Well that kinda happens with Obi-Wan Anakin and Ahsoka

In the beginning they all looked as different as a group could look but after a while people started to notice their eyes looked weirdly similar and they held themselves in the same way and their facial expressions mimicked each other and oh my force when did they start looking related?

And this works in their favor later on when they leave cause remember yall they all left and lived happily ever after… 

Anyway it works out for them cause when Anakin reiterates “No we’re all siblings” people don’t even think about it they just kinda accept it and move on cause the galaxies in shambles and weirder shit has happened

Even though Ahsoka blames Anakin for crashing everything he’s ever flown it doesn’t truly bother her the risky moves and “fancy flying” become predictable after a while and weirdly comforting 

It should concern her that barrel rolls and 90-degree drops are more soothing to her than a trained pilot who flies by the book cause yeah sure the flight is smooth but will the pilot make jokes while they’re being shot down

It is a truly hilarious show of fate that Anakin Skywalker got put in charge of the biggest adrenaline junkie this side of the galaxy and even though they both know this fact neither one of them will mention it 

Ahsoka’s just grateful to experience the feeling of a rollercoaster without ever being on one and Anakin’s grateful to finally find someone who just nags him when they freefall instead of screaming at the top of their lungs or puking when they land

Ahsoka will jokingly rat out Anakin to Obi-Wan when he picks on her it’s not uncommon for the older Jedi to hear things like “Master, Anakin keeps floating my sabers to the ceiling” or “Master, I can’t find my headwrap and Anakin’s hiding again can you help me look”

Just funny little tidbits throughout the day and sometimes council members will hear those anecdotes and for some reason they think “Oh she’s willing to rat him out for real” which has led to some council members asking her the bigger questions 

Like “Where was your master last night we tried hailing him but he didn’t answer?” and when Ahsoka responds with “Oh he’s been in his room all night tinkering with his arm” they correct her and say that the guards never reported him returning from a late-night excursion

She’ll come up with something like “Oh he left? Well I’m sorry masters I never saw him go and I could have sworn I heard him” which is a lie she told him to say hi to Padme as he left and the only thing she heard that night was her music 

But for some strange reason the council decides to believe her cause even though she’s Anakin’s padawan she has a strangely trustworthy face and has a wrap sheet of throwing him under the bus in the past 

Little do they know she wouldn’t sell him out for real and Anakin pays loyal people generously and by that I mean baked goods and boba and her favorite movie being played while they eat dinner

I don't know what it is about Anakin that gives me morning-person vibes but he just does now I’m not saying he’s like super bubbly in the morning but being up at five am when no one else is around just soothes him for some reason 

This however doesn’t stop him from staying up late to work on some projects or having a movie marathon with Ahsoka it just means those things are infrequent 

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka on the other hand feel like night owls to me the duo has so much going on throughout the day and while they’re both extroverts at heart nighttime is when they really unwind and get to relax 

All this to say it’s very funny imagining the normally broody Anakin smiling serenely at six in the morning barely needing a cup of caf while the normally happy duo of Ahsoka and Obi-Wan are reduced to grumbling grumpy messes that are death-gripping their cups of caf 

The Jedi don’t say “I love you” at least not in the normal way that everyone else does instead he makes snacks for his padawan while she frantically studies for a test that she forgot about or they say things like “Hey master I think I figured out why your prosthetic keeps locking up”  

Or one of them discovers his favorite tea in his cupboard after the younger two come back from a mission but he knows they were stationed three star systems away from where the tea is normally sold

Or the younger coming home from the same mission to find that all the chores they couldn’t do were taken care of 

You know the minuscule things that most people wouldn’t bat an eye at but to each other mean the world

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 14

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Astarion comes face to face with Cas's older brother, a famous and brutal monster hunter, and fears for his life.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 4.1k

Chapter Tags: Meeting the family, sibling tomfoolery, relationship talk, kissing.

Every one of Astarion’s survival instincts had agreed on one course of action in that moment:

Run.

Run as fast and as hard as his legs would take him. Run until he found a place to hide deep within the depths of the woods. Or the dark bowels of a cave crawling with spiders. Hells, he’d even go back to that goblin-infested hellhole.

Then maybe, just maybe, he would buy himself a few more precious moments before the Huntsman of Neverwinter rammed a stake through his heart.

He swallowed as his eyes scoured over the Huntsman; the man was nearly as large as Halsin. Fitted leather armor emphasized his muscular build and sunlight glinted off the steel of the (menacing) sword strapped to his back and the daggers secured to his belt. And those were only the weapons Astarion could see — who knew how many other lethal instruments the Huntsman might have concealed on his person.

There was a sharpness to the Huntsman’s features that reminded him of Cas. But his face held none of her softness.

His dark eyes were alert and calculating, like a hawk perched high on a building as it tracked a mouse scurrying about an open street. Four prominent scars marred his neck — two pairs of separate, unmistakably vampiric bite marks — that tore down to his collarbone like he had ripped the vampire away with their fangs still embedded in his throat. The man moved with easy, confident grace like he knew damn well he was the most dangerous being for miles around.

A man who turned monsters and predators into mere prey.

Gods. Cazador would hate him.

The man exuded power in a way Cazador could only dream of. There was a natural, unspoken charisma to the Huntsman that his former master would never have been able to emulate even if he tried.

It was a presence that commanded respect; not because he expected it, but because one couldn’t help but give it freely.

Astarion was pulled from his musings when Cas’s fingers squeezed his gently. “Just be yourself,” she said, her voice echoing in his mind as the tadpole squirmed. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Nothing to worry about? Was she out of her mind?

As much as he wanted to believe her, experience and instinct told trust the truth of what was standing before him. And the truth was that he stood face-to-face with a large elf who was armed to the teeth and had a reputation for killing monsters. Efficiently.

Although Cas didn’t treat him like a monster, Astarion couldn’t be certain that her brother would extend him the same courtesy.

Yet if the stories were to be believed, the Huntsman would have long since sent him to Kelemvor already - had he been inclined to do so. Even the exaggerated tales told by bards made a point to emphasize how quick the Huntsman was. And how his prey never saw him coming.

But, Astarion was still in one piece. For now.

Even with that in mind, a lump remained firmly lodged in his throat as his feet stayed rooted to the spot. His fingers tightened around Cas’s hand, holding it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the Material Plane as he stared at the Huntsman.

Planning had never been Astarion’s strong suit. As much as he had wanted to have the Huntsman as an ally against Cazador, he never considered how an actual encounter with the man might go. And he most certainly never envisioned meeting the Huntsman…

Well…

He certainly never envisioned meeting him like this.

What in the hells was he supposed to say? ‘Hello Mr. Huntsman, Sir, you see, we were just coming back from a nice morning walk. The bite marks? Well that certainly wasn’t from last night when your little sister was on her hands and knees begging for my cock. Where did you get that idea?’

Yes, because that would certainly win him over.

As if hearing Astarion’s thoughts, the Huntsman’s eyes snapped onto him. He couldn’t help but shrink under the man’s gaze, subconsciously curling in on himself as he looked everywhere but at the threatening presence looming before him.

Was looking away the smartest decision? No. But maybe if he made himself seem pathetic enough, the man would take pity on him and let him live.

Honestly, that plan had a better chance of working than running away did.

What had he been thinking — seducing the Huntsman’s sister? Did he expect the man to immediately welcome him into the family or something? For the monster hunter not to question the motivations of a monster? For him to say ‘Thank you for sleeping with my sister. To show my appreciation, let me kill Cazador for you’?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Cas.” The Huntsman’s voice broke through Astarion’s thoughts. There was a soothing quality to it, a deep and rich timbre that could probably make the reading of bank records sound interesting.

Much to Astarion’s immediate relief, the Huntsman’s attention had returned to Cas, releasing him from the oppressive weight of the man’s gaze. Now that it wasn’t on him, Astarion almost felt like he could think straight again.

Cas had said that he had nothing to worry about, so perhaps he should just… trust her. She knew her brother better than he did, after all.

Despite how he tried to reassure himself, his nerves remained on edge. Centuries of conditioning told him that he was far from safe in the Huntsman’s presence, and no amount of positive thinking could change that.

When he felt Cas’s fingers detangle from his, a tendril of dread slithered through him. Immediately, Astarion wanted to take hold of her hand again. Though he would never admit it, holding her hand felt like the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

Or from running off into the woods like a coward, at the very least.

When her hand slipped fully out of his, he closed his fingers around the open air as if trying to grasp at an invisible tether between them.

Seemingly obvious to Astarion’s tumultuous inner thoughts, Cas started towards her brother.

“How long were you ominously posing there for?” she asked cheekily.

The Huntsman said nothing as he lifted her off her feet and pulled her into a hug so tight that Astarion swore he heard some of her bones pop.

A strangled sound came from Cas’s throat as she half-heartedly (and unsuccessfully) kicked at him. Her arms were pinned to her sides, rendering her practically helpless until the Huntsman decided to let her go. “You’re crushing me,” she groaned.

“I am so fucking pissed at you,” he said, his muscles bulging as he squeezed Cas even tighter. “I thought I lost your stupid ass.”

“Can’t breathe,” Cas squeaked with another pitiful kick of her legs. “Being squished.”

“Good,” he said before placing her firmly on the ground and releasing her from his embrace. The Huntsman settled his hands on Cas’s shoulders and bent down to eye level with her. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I couldn’t find you?”

Cas averted her eyes, and her brother repositioned himself to stay within her line of sight. With the new angle, Astarion could see the man’s expression. There was a slight furrow to his brow and his lips tugged almost imperceptibly downward.

“I tried to reach out as soon as I could,” she replied, still doing her best not to look at her brother, her voice sounding smaller than Astarion had ever heard it.

For some reason, Astarion wanted to reach out to Cas and make that distress in her eyes disappear. He yearned to pull her into his arms and… oh, he didn’t know. Provide some comfort, maybe?

Gods, when was the last time he had wanted to comfort someone? He wasn’t even sure he knew how.

The Huntsman dismissed Cas’s response with a shake of his head. “You never should have been in this position in the first place,” he said sternly, like a parent lecturing a child. “That nautiloid was going after me. Not you. If you hadn’t—”

“I couldn’t let it get you!” Cas snapped as she took a step back, breaking her brother’s grasp on her shoulders.

Her outburst didn’t appear to surprise the Huntsman one bit. He just continued to watch her with a slightly melancholy and expectant look in his eyes — as if he already knew what she was going to say and was just waiting for her to say it.

“I had the opportunity to save you for once, so I did,” Cas continued, her voice taking on a calmer tone once again. “The people of Faerun can’t afford to lose you.”

“And I can’t afford to lose you.” Though the Huntsman’s voice was level, Astarion could hear a tremor of fear behind it.

Her brother was furious, there was no doubt about that. Yet, that anger seemed to be born out of more than just fear of losing her. It seemed to be born out of love. Something Astarion wasn’t sure he had ever experienced, he realized.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, crossing her arms like she was trying to hold herself together..

“It’s okay.” The Huntsman straightened and ran his fingers through his short, brown hair as he exhaled deeply. “We can talk about this later. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Cas nodded and pursed her lips, like there were more words she wanted to say but she had stopped herself. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

Throwing his arm around his sister’s shoulder, the Huntsman gave her a brief squeeze before stepping away.

Then the man’s eyes locked onto Astarion’s once again, and even though he was smiling, the intensity of his piercing gaze was unsettling. It was like the Huntsman’s eyes were dissecting him, peeling back all of his layers to the undead heart in his chest.

A chill went up Astarion’s spine and his insides twisted uncomfortably, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but stare back. He could only hope that the Huntsman couldn’t see the darkness that lurked within.

He swallowed, tilting his head up toward the Huntsman as the man stopped directly in front of him, blocking out the morning sun like an eclipse.

If he thought any of the gods might have listened, this was when Astarion would have prayed.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you,” the Huntsman said, his smile turning apologetic as he extended his hand cordially. “I’m Vesryn.”

Vesryn’s hand was heavily calloused and littered with scars — clear evidence of his decades of hunting and wielding weapons, although it looked like he at least tried to take care of them. Given all the politicians, patriars, and nobles he brushed elbows with when he made special appearances, he probably felt like he had to. Signing autographs, shaking hands, kissing babies; all the things a celebrity of his caliber did.

Carefully, Astarion grasped his hand and introduced himself in turn, his voice sounding high pitched to his own ears.

Gods, were his palms sweaty? He hoped he didn’t just shake the Huntsman’s hand with sweaty palms. How mortifying would that be?

“Astarion,” Vesryn repeated back to him, a flicker of recognition flashing across his eye. He released his grip and placed his hands on his hips, taking on a more relaxed posture. Or perhaps he was trying to subtly wipe the sweat off of his palms. “It’s good to meet you. Cas mentioned you in one of her sendings.”

Surprise mixed with a feeling of flattery at his words. More importantly, Astarion felt relieved. Tension eased from his shoulders and the lump in his throat diminished.

Maybe the Huntsman just didn’t know Astarion was one of the very monsters he was famous for hunting yet. Oh, who was he kidding? Of course the bloody Huntsman of Neverwinter knew he was a vampire. Even with his ability to walk around in the sun, there were a couple of things about him that were very hard to miss.

Not to mention, the bite mark on Cas’s neck.

Though if Vesryn took offense, he was doing a spectacular job of hiding it. In fact, Vesryn seemed sincerely happy to meet him. He didn’t seem like he wanted to attack, kill, or maim him at all.

And that felt… wrong.

Astarion cleared his throat, hoping his voice would go back to normal. “Did she now?” he asked, not knowing how else to respond. “All good things, I hope?”

If he were talking to anyone else, he might have come up with something witty. But he needed to play it safe. At least until he had a better idea of what kind of person Vesryn was.

Historically speaking, his smart mouth got him into trouble more often than anything else he did. Just because Cas found him funny didn’t mean her brother shared her humor.

“Twenty five words a spell and she used most of them telling me how handsome and wonderful you are. It was nauseating, really.”

“Vesryn,” Cas hissed and slapped her brother’s armored arm as an adorable redness tinged her cheeks.

A cheeky grin tugged at Vesryn’s lips. “She actually used two spells.”

“I did not,” Cas protested, her face flushing further even as she rolled her eyes. “Don’t believe a word he says. He’s just trying to embarrass me.”

“Trying? I’m succeeding,” Vesryn replied, standing straighter with an air of self-satisfaction. Then he playfully poked at Cas’s ribs, making her jump. “You don’t normally get this flustered in front of someone. You must really like him.”

“Ves!” Another smack landed against the Huntsman’s armor, followed by a bellow of laughter.

Vesryn rubbed over the spot Cas had hit with an exaggerated wince. “I can’t believe you’re being so mean to me in front of your friend.” He glanced at Astarion with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Is she this mean to you?”

The smartass in him told him to say ‘yes’ but his survival instincts reined him in. “I’ve always found her to be delightful company.”

“Oh, lucky you,” he replied and cocked his chin toward the forest. “Take my advice and run while you can. She only gets worse.”

Cas groaned and dragged her palm down her face. “Remember when I said I was glad you were okay? I take that back.”

She placed both hands on Vesyrn’s chest before firmly and persistently pushing the wall of a man back toward the direction of camp. It wasn’t until she managed to make him budge a single step that they both started to lose their composure. “Get your ass out of here,” Cas said, her voice sounding like she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“See? So mean.”

“Yes, I’m a bully,” she agreed and pushed him another step. “Can you give Astarion and I a moment? We were talking about something.”

“‘Talking’, sure.” Vesryn made finger quotes in the air but then relented, letting Cas push him a few more steps toward camp. “Okay, okay, I‘ll give you a few minutes. No need to be so pushy.”

Cas made a shooing motion with her hands like the Huntsman of Neverwinter was nothing more than a wayward pigeon. “We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

Vesryn threw a smile over his shoulder, the kind a storybook hero or a handsome prince might give their admirers. “It was nice meeting you, Astarion,” he said before starting back toward the campsite.

‘Nice’ wasn’t the word Astarion would have chosen. It was anxiety-inducing, terrifying, and worst of all… confusing? But it definitely wasn’t ‘nice’.

The Huntsman was nothing like Astarion had expected — the man hunted monsters such as vampires for a living. There were tales of him slaying all manner of creatures from devils to dragons. Not to mention how a mere decade ago, Vesryn had killed a vampire lord, the Collector. A vampire so ancient that he made Cazador seem like a child in comparison. And if the stories were to be believed, Vesryn had killed the Collector in the monster’s own lair amidst hundreds of spawn.

There was no doubt in Astarion’s mind that the Collector had done what any vampire lord would have done: using his spawn as fodder in an attempt to save his own skin, and most certainly, Vesryn had killed them all.

And yet, Vesryn was being downright friendly with a vampire spawn who quite obviously fed on his little sister.

Perhaps if Cas hadn’t been around, things might have been different. Perhaps the friendliness was just an act to throw Astarion off guard and make it easier to ram a stake through him when he least expected it. If that was the case, the Huntsman had certainly succeeded in throwing him off.

Still, there was something about Vesryn that seemed so genuine. His handshake was firm, but not dominating. His eagle-like eyes, keen and observant, were also warm and curious. Then there was the way Vesryn interacted with Cas with such open affection and camaraderie — it was disarming to say the least.

As the Huntsman’s form retreated, Astarion felt a weight lifting from his chest. Like the man’s presence was a heavy fog that emanated from his very being, enveloping those who didn’t know how to navigate it.

Though Astarion had never been in the presence of a god, he suspected it probably felt a little something like standing in front of the Huntsman of Neverwinter.

The nervous, prickling sensation on his skin eased as he felt himself begin to relax. He exhaled slowly, trying to breathe out the tension that coiled in his veins.

He hoped he hadn’t accidentally made a fool of himself in front of the Huntsman. Not that it really mattered, but he wanted Vesryn to have a good impression of him. It would probably please Cas if he and her brother were on good terms after all.

Instinctively, something old and ingrained tried to push back against the selfless thought despite the fact that he was becoming more and more comfortable with caring about someone other than himself.

A few weeks ago, Cas’s happiness wouldn’t have been the first thing that he would have thought of when it came to building a relationship with the Huntsman. Hells, even a few days ago his motives had been purely selfish. The only feelings that had mattered were his own, and Cas was nothing more than a tool he could use to get what he wanted.

How quickly things had changed.

A brush of her fingers against his palm drew him from his thoughts. “Are you alright?” Cas asked with gentle amusement. “That’s not how I pictured you meeting my brother.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” Astarion intertwined his fingers with hers, the simple connection like a balm on his frayed nerves. “Did you really tell him about me?”

Cas shook her head. “He asked who I was with, and I gave him everyone’s name. Anything else he knows he either picked up from just now or from talking to everyone back at camp.”

He gave a mock pout, as if her not gossiping about him was a huge disappointment. When she gave him a smile in response, he stepped into her space and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close enough that her chest brushed against his when she took a breath. That little touch was enough to send a thrill through him, and part of him was tempted to steal her away again.

For whatever reason, he felt like everything was about to change.

He wanted a few more moments with just the two of them. A few more moments where they could pretend their problems didn’t exist and they could just be together.

“Pity,” Astarion said, his thumbs brushing over the jut of her hip bone through the thin fabric of her shirt. “I would have loved to have heard how wonderful and beautiful I am.”

Cas blinked at him, looking completely unimpressed. “You’re wonderful and beautiful,” she said flatly.

A smile tugged at his lips as he pulled her flush against him, his hands sliding around to her backside. “For the love of the gods, would it kill you to put some enthusiasm into it?”

Cas slipped her arms over his shoulders. “I think you heard plenty of enthusiasm last night,” she replied in a low and husky voice that made his blood stir.

She tilted her face up toward his, her lips just a breath away from his own with a silent invitation. It was an invitation he was all too happy to accept. His mouth caught hers in a brief, sugary sweet kiss. Nothing but the gentle pressure of her lush lips against his, the subtle and intoxicating taste of her on his tongue. It would have been all too easy to lose himself in that moment.

Before he fell too deep into whatever spell she wove around him, he pulled away. Her brother was waiting only a few hundred feet away, and Astarion didn’t want to push his luck.

Cas tasted her lips as though she already missed his touch. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her head tilted thoughtfully as her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Vesryn is going to ask about you and me,” she said matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to tell him anything you don’t want me to.”

Of course, the Huntsman was going to ask about their relationship. What kind of big brother would he be if he didn’t? Especially considering Astarion’s nature, it only made sense that the monster hunter would at least check in on her.

Yet, Astarion had never expected Cas to ask for his thoughts. Or his permission. He just figured that Cas would tell her brother whatever she felt like without any input from him.

“What were you thinking of telling him?” he asked, feeling a little off-guard and wanting to get some idea of Cas’s stance on the matter before he risked fouling things up.

Cas shrugged. “That we’re friends,” she said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to her, but to him? He wasn’t sure if anyone had considered him a friend before. At least, not enough of a friend to tell their family about him.

Yet, describing their relationship as something as simple as friendship didn’t sit quite right with him. After all they had been through together, after all the battles they fought, after all of their long conversations over a bottle of wine or the time spent with her skin against his…. It felt like what they had together was more than just friendship.

So much more.

Astarion tucked his finger under her chin, tilting her head up to better see her eyes. “Just friends?” he asked as he swiped his thumb across her lower lip — a reminder of all the times their lips had touched. “Is that all that we are?”

She wrapped her fingers around his hand and gently lifted it from her face. “What else would you have me say?”

That was the real question, wasn’t it?

What did he want her to say?

Cas wasn’t one of his victims or just another target. She wasn’t just a shield for him to hide behind, or a stranger with powerful connections. She wasn’t just another night he wished he could forget.

She was something.

They were something.

What that something was, he couldn’t put a name on it. But he knew what it wasn’t: just friendship.

Friendship may have laid the foundation, but they’d built something together that went far beyond that. Whatever that something was, it was messy, complicated, and probably not completely structurally sound — but it was theirs.

They could fill in the cracks as needed.

Cas gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, taking his silence as the answer he didn’t know how to articulate. “That’s what I thought,” she said lightly and laced her fingers with his. “We don’t have to figure it out now.”

An odd feeling of disappointment settled in his stomach. Part of him wanted her to change her answer. Or at the very least, agree that they were more than just friends.

Because people who were just friends didn’t do what he and Cas did.

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of her fingers. “I suppose it’s kind of nice not to know exactly what we are, if I’m being completely honest,” he said as he gazed into her eyes. “But I am glad that ‘friends’, at the very least, is a certainty.”

Cas smiled at him. “Me too.”

---

Beginning

Previous Chapter

[plagues02]

All Grown Up

Summary: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick has been in Task Force 141 since it was created, but he was keeping something from his team. Something that his captain finds out in possible the worst way possible. Characters: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, John Price, Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish Word Count: 1,671 Note: This was written back in 2022 and was originally posted on Ao3

Task Force One-Four-One. The task force was created by Price a few months ago, and they had all been moved to the same base. So far, everything was going well. They were all blending well together, and a few short missions they had gone on went well.

Gaz felt especially welcome at the base as the youngest, being treated almost like a little brother. A brother,,, He did have a fairly big family, but he only kept touch with one of his older brothers due to,,, reasons. When asked about it, he never answered why he had no contact with them, and no one pushed him.

“Ugh,” groaned the man beside him. “Man, Captain really worked us with training today. I need a shower.”

The younger man let out a laugh. “That makes two of us.”

“Then let’s hit the showers,” Soap looked over. “We have time before dinner is served.”

The brit froze, feeling his heart stop and his mouth run dry. The Scot looked over at him with a slight head tilt. Gaz shook his head before continuing walking.

“I claim the bunk’s private one.” And Soap didn’t argue.

Captain Price decided he wanted the team to be close during the first month or two and claimed a small room with a few beds and lockers for them. The room has a single bathroom with a shower in it. Gaz preferred this one over the group shower. He liked the privacy. He could hide things.

The young man let out a sigh of relief when he returned to the room to see he was alone. He took his time to get his clean clothes and other hygiene products. A chuckle left his lips after reading the note on his freshly clean folded clothes.

Cleaned your clothes because you keep forgetting. This won’t happen again. - Price

Gaz knew this was a lie, and that Price always put the same note on his clothes. The older man had become a father figure for him. Of course, he was still his boss, but he felt an attachment to him that he hadn’t felt with his own father.

The young man finished grabbing his clothes, along with a towel, before heading to the bathroom. He placed the clean clothes on the counter and turned on the shower to start getting warm. With his back facing the mirror, he started to disrobe; the dirty clothes became a pile on the floor that he would pick up on the way out.

As he turned to the shower, he caught himself in the mirror and cringed. Gaz’s hand went up to his chest, two mounts of fat that shouldn’t be there. A constant reminder that he was born a woman. His lower regions weren’t any better.

The man let out a breath he didn’t he was holding before pulling himself away. He learned too late that he turned the water too high and stood in the very corner as the water cooled.

Gaz didn’t take long to shower. He made sure he was clean and that all the sweat from training earlier was off, but he tried his best not to look down at his body.

The brit hated his body. While on T, his body has changed some, making his build more masculine. He even started growing facial hair. Not much, but enough to make him look like a man. His voice had also changed, and unless someone knew, they couldn’t tell.

Growing up, he didn’t think anything of his gender. His parents and later his older siblings would often,,, complain about people like him. Trans people. It wasn’t until he was in the military that he met a trans person. A lovely woman who was also his superior, and with her help, he figured himself out. In the process, he lost his family. All but his little brother, who he kept in regular contact with.

Gaz turned off the water and reached out to grab the towel that was kept nearby. He rubbed some of the water off of his body before wrapping the towel around his waist, stepping out of the shower. He made his way to the sink. His eyes glanced down once a second before he shook his head.

The brit grabbed his tooth brush and brushed his teeth before washing his face with a sensitive skin cleanser. He followed with some lotion. A cycle that he often did when he had the chance too, which wasn’t often with his busy schedule. He also looked at his facial hair and shaped it up a little after checking the time.

Being too focused on the shaving, he didn’t hear the sound of the room open. He didn’t realize someone else was nearby until the bathroom door opened. His first thought was Shit, I didn’t lock the door, and the second was Fuck, I’m not wearing clothes.

Gaz finally looked over to see who it was, and his face started to heat up as his eyes met his captain. Price stared at him with wide eyes, They both did, clearly trying to process what was happening. Gaz processed faster.

“Get out,” he simply said, and Price did, closing the door behind him. The younger man locked the door behind him.

The younger Brit let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. His heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, and his throat felt tight. His back hit the wall without him realizing he stepped back, and he slipped down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest. 

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.

A sob left his lips as his shoulders began to shake. He tried so hard. SO fucking hard to hide this about him. Whether it was binding, even when he wasn’t supposed to like in training, or just wearing baggier clothes with a compression sports bra. His voice and face looked like a man’s, and he kept his T in his personal belongings that no one but him touched. He did everything right, only to be found out like this.

It felt like forever before he was able to pull himself up again. Gaz left light headed as he splashed cold water on his face. Finally, he put clothes back on. He knew he didn’t have any more training today, just some paperwork after dinner, so he decided to slip on his binder under his clothes. Being caught also helped with this decision.

Price was waiting for him when he got out, and the younger couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye.

“Gaz,” Price stared, standing up from the bunk he was sitting on. “Gaz.” He tried again when the man paused in his step. “Kyle,” he used his reason name, placing his hands on the younger’s shoulders.

“Captain,” Gaz found his voice before feeling a hand on his face, causing him to look up.

“Hey, hey, Kyle, look at me.”

They stood like that in silence for a while, just staring at each other. After a while, Price pulled away and reached down to the edge of his shirt. Gaz raised an eyebrow when he realized what he was doing. He opened his mouth to question his captain; before he could, he saw what the man was showing him. Right under his chest were two matching scars. Scars from top surgery. The sergeant let out another breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Price, letting his shirt fall down.

Gaz tried to find his words at the question, shifting his standing position. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he choked out. “My parents.”

John stared at the younger man in thought. He grew up in an accepting household so when he mentioned to his parents that he thought he was a man, he was treated like a man. He was lucky, but he never met someone who wasn’t lucky like him. Now he has, and it was his own soldier.

“Kyle,” Price said, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “You are accepted here. You don’t have to hide. You are a man, and you work under me. No one will disrespect you.”

“Thank you, captain,” Gaz responded with a small gasp of shock.

Price smiled at the younger. “Now, the others are waiting for you at the dining hall. I won’t say anything until you’re ready.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Price watched the younger man leave the room with a smile on his face. The older man smiled to himself as well. Acceptance went a long way, and he just witnessed this in person

A few days later, Price pulled Gaz aside after training for the day. He looked over the young man and followed. Gaz felt the hair on the back of his hair stand up, knowing what this was about.

“Gaz,” he groaned, rubbing his face.

“Yes, Captain?”

“You cannot bind while working out. Especially with what we do on a daily basis,” the captain tried to keep himself calm as he spoke. “I know it’s hard. I do, but it’s still my job to watch out for you.”

Price sighed as he saw the sheepish grin of the other. “Just,,, wear a sports bra instead, please, or I’ll put you on desk duty.”

That seemed to get through Gaz’s head as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The captain let out a small laugh as he patted the younger man's shoulder. “On another note, I was cleaning and found something I thought you might find useful. I left them in a box by your bed.”

The sergeant raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little. The small smile on the older man’s lips told him what he meant by that.

“Oh, I also noticed I had an extra room in my flat,” Price started walking away. “If you need a place to stay when on leave or for whatever reason, it’s open. Now, go take a shower.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, captain.”

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 6

Chapter 6: Strange Dream, New Favorite Memory

TW: Heavier Angst. Scout has some awful, awful brothers. But Spy is a real one.

Jeremy went to bed in a better mood than he’d had in a long time. He was so glad that the new Spy was such a nice guy. And such a great cook too. Though, somethin was going on and he didn’t feel like making food. And from how the newbie was actin, it was something serious.

Well, it wasn’t Scout’s business, so he decided not to tell the others unless he had to. They really weren’t the type to badger Spy into cooking for them.

Jeremy felt so relaxed and lost in thought that he crawled right up in that bed without realizing it. It surprised him when he found himself curled up in his blanket. He hadn’t wanted to sleep in a hot minute, even on the night he cried. Aw Hell, he wan’t complainin.

————————-

The dream started out with an old recurring nightmare of his. It was one he’d gotten used to a long time ago, so it was more annoying than scary. Especially since he had to sit through it before anything interesting and new happened.

Jeremy dreamt that he died, and none of his stupid brothers cared. Ma was real upset, and trying to get his funeral and stuff sorted out, but none of his siblings would help. They definitely weren’t gonna cry over him. Cause he’s the runt. Runts die all the time, it’s just piddly women who bother to feel bad and save them. Whatever.

Since it was such an old dream, current Scout could still have his opinion on what was goin on, but his younger self was the character in the dream and reacted like he always did back then. He was cryin and trying to help Ma from beyond the grave, since there wasn’t a **** brother man enough to make it easier on her. And he didn’t know about Spy yet, so he wasn’t with the brothers ignoring Jeremy’s death.

It looked like Scout woke up, but all his stuff was laid out like when he first got hired at RED. He got up and went to the bathroom so he could splash water on his face and hide his tears. It worked, but he wasn’t getting a hold’a himself right so he wandered into the hall.

People were always used to Jeremy being loud. Most never knew he could be quiet. Younger Scout aimlessly made his way around base and tried not to wake the rest’a the team. Then he noticed a light.

Spy’s smoking room. The door was slightly cracked, so he could let smoke out and stink up the rest of base with it. But that meant Spy was awake, the only teammate who would be at that hour. Medic was crazy, but he’d never give up a chance to round up the doves and go to sleep to ‘em making their weird bird noises. Engineer needed all the sleep he could get. But Scout knew from those 6 months in prison that Spy didn’t sleep most nights.

His younger self hesitated near the door, tryin to decide whether he should be a baby and talk with Spy, or keep walkin. Before he could make up his mind, the door opened and he locked eyes with Spy. They stared at each other with the same amount’a surprise. Younger Jeremy choked out something, anything to fill the loud silence.

“Aw, crap. Am I that noisy?” “Not in the slightest. But people in this line of work learn to feel eyes on them.” **** invisible show off. Younger Scout nodded to try and play it cool, and started to walk away so the deadbeat couldn’t see he’d been cryin.

“Would you like to come in?” He paused. Older Jeremy remembered that he didn’t always know he could go in the smoking room, or that anyone else on the team was allowed in there. This must have been during that time, cause his younger self looked at Spy with hopeful eyes.

The musty, smokey wooden room was nothing special to the current Scout, but his younger self was looking around like a kid in a candy store. Spy pulled over another chair and gestured for him to sit. Young Jeremy did, but went quiet afterwards. He didn’t know what to say.

Back then, he was afraid that the other teammates would laugh at him like his brothers. Or worse, think he was so weak that he should be fired, and then he’d be back in Boston stuck in his cycle of getting hired and fired. And Ma probably wouldn’t be surprised. He couldn’t look Spy in the eye.

“I presume that whatever is bothering you, you would prefer not to speak of it with a shady Spy.” Not a selfish *** deadbeat like you. Older Scout thought. Spy looked at his side table and there was a smaller cutting board with meat, cheese and bread.

“Perhaps this is not a time for eating, but you’re welcome to this if you can stomach it.” Younger Jeremy didn’t say anything for a minute. “Nothin’s wrong. I just can’t sleep.” His voice was firm and harsh, but he and Spy didn’t believe his weak lie. Spy chose the fast-food parenting route of talkin even though Scout wasn’t in the mood.

”You would not be the first. Many mercenaries uninvolved in wars prior to joining RED have suffered nightmares when they arrive. The feeling of respawning is a difficult thing to get used to.” Jeremy flinched and stared into the fire. Spy shrugged and got up.

“I may have something that will help.” The old fart poured him a glass of scotch and offered it to him. Younger Scout hesitated to take it, knowin it was fancy stuff. “Trust me, there is nothing you could possibly do drunk in here that the Demoman or Soldier has not.” That convinced him enough to take the cup and down the alcohol like medicine. He found the fire more relaxing after it kicked in.

—————————-

Jeremy woke up with the dream still on his mind. That didn’t usually happen unless… it was one of those dopey “half-memory type dreams”. He stared at his door and groaned as he realized it was a real memory. Back in Siberia he had a more twisted dream about himself waddling around on the carpet as a baby, with his Ma and current Spy seducin each other. Gross.

He checked the clock and decided it was late enough that he could go to the training room without wakin folks up and getting yelled at. He’d go punch something and get this dumb memory out of his mind in no-time.

A few hours later, new Spy came in with a stabbing knife and no shirt. Jeremy didn’t look at first, but his stupid need to compare himself to other guys drove him to study Spy more close.

New Spy was tall and skinny, but he was no toothpick. He had abs and broad shoulders, with arm muscles that poked out more than Jeremy’s ever did. He hated the part of him who got jealous of people his age. At least with Sniper, he smelled like pee and looked old as Hell, so Scout could bury his annoying thoughts easier. Otherwise they never shut up.

Engineer came in, but not to train. “Scout? There’s somebody tryin’a call ya. You got time to answer?” He nodded. It was probably Ma callin to check up on him, or Pauling with a new task.

———————

Jeremy took a deep breath. Ma had probably heard from Spy about what happened, but she hadn’t tried to confront him over it. He wasn’t gonna complain about Spy or act pitiful about getting rejected by Pauling. Nobody knew about that, not even Ma. The nice thing was, if Pauling did call him and shut down any attempt to talk to her like she had always done before, he wouldn’t have to play normal so long.

“Hey, this is Scout. What’s up?” “Ay tiny! Guess who?” Kevin. One of his three crappier brothers. Ma musta tried to put him up to callin, so he could be nice for once and check up on him. He kicked himself for not calling her more the past few weeks, she musta been worried. They only bothered to speak to him if he was in Boston and failed to time it right so he could visit Ma in peace.

He wished it was Frankie or one of the other “I got better and now you’re all below me” brothers. They would at least pretend to care, on principle. But Kevin was still a gang member and all around jerk.

“Say hey, Danny and Pete are here too!” Oh great, all three gang brothers together to mock him in one place! “Dan. Petey.” Jeremy was starting to wonder if Ma was trying to tell Frank or somebody to call him, and his idiot brothers overheard. They probably stole her phone or locked her outta the house just to pull this. But maybe not. Maybe they weren’t in a chatty mood.

“Aw, don’t be like that pipsqueak, we’re ‘worried’ about ya! Ain’t we fellas?” Kevin said in his sarcastic tone. The others chimed in with just as fake’a friendliness. That meant they were definitely in a chatty mood. Whatever they knew, it mayst been hilarious to them. Jeremy needed to be ready to stop himself from reacting to their jabs.

“What do you want, Kev. I have work to do.” Scout was a lot better at lying now, and being over the phone helped. The sooner he hung up without giving them more ammo to make fun of him, the better.

“Heard ya finally found yer daddy. What kinda thing is he? A gnome? A bunny rabbit?” Yeah, Ma wouldn’t’a told them on purpose. He hoped she couldn't hear them, since she dated that bozo once. It wasn’t right to clown on Spy around her.

“He’s a cigarette, actually. One that got sun-bleached in a dirty parking lot. It’s a miracle I don’t smell like him.” They wanted him to get mad, and he wasn’t gonna give them the satisfaction. He needed to stay calm and keep firing back like it didn’t matter to him.

“Ay Mi-Mi, did ya stomp him into the pavement? I wanna see how that went down!” They were just gonna keep digging for a nerve the longer he talked to them. But if he hung up at the wrong time, It’d show that they’d found one. And then they’d never shut up.

“Naw, but he musta been scared that I was gonna; rolled right into a dirty sewer drain like a coward. Squealed like a piggy on his way out.” That turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to say. The phone erupted into mocking cackles and loudly echoed in the hall outside the training room.

“Bruh, he left! Oh my God, he still didn’t want ya!” Jeremy froze, which only left them without a response and let them know they had finally gotten to him. But he had to be quiet or he was gonna cry or start yelling, and that would only make them more satisfied with what they said.

More heartless laughter and insults rattled out of the phone, and Scout was so distracted that he didn’t notice new Spy until he leaned in to talk into the speaker.

“Oh bonjour, je m’inquietais du manque de batards dans la base.” He said it in a weirdly happy tone, like the young version of an old lady who people make fun of ‘cause she can’t hear em. Scout didn’t know much French, but he knew old Spy used to curse more in that than in English, and “batards” was one of the rarer ones.

Jeremy found himself handing over the phone and staring as the new guy got insulted by his brothers. Spy kept respondin by sayin things that had to be insults, but in that same goofy higher pitched tone. And what was funny was that his brothers were too stupid to figure it out. They just assumed he was a dumb foreigner that they coulda robbed if he was there in Boston.

“Hell yeah, keep talkin little man! You one’a Scout’s dopey friends or somethin?” This time, Spy turned to Jeremy right before replying. “Vous etes tellement immonde que vous plonger dans le beurre comme escargot creerait une bouillie brune. Rat des rues degoutant.” Newbie hunched over and curled his free hand like a big New York rat while he spoke.

Scout tried so hard not to snicker at that, but when his brother started running his mouth again, Spy swung his hips like a sassy lady and made the funniest face he’d ever seen in his life. He burst out laughing so hard that his annoying brothers could hear it.

“Ay! What’s so funny?” Spy leaned against the wall and then posed like a toddler with his butt out and his free arm dangling. “Mon Dieu, le petit frere t’a offense, mon petit cochon? Quel dommage qu’il s’amuse de tes reniflements.”

Jeremy could not stop laughing, and could barely breath. The new guy was still takin that fake cheerful tone with Kevin, who was getting angrier and angrier. And hearing him getting butt-hurt made him and the other two less… heavy on him. Not like they were scary, just less of a hurdle. They were getting clowned on by a skinny French guy with real long hair.

Young Spy walked like a sheepish and ditzy housewife from TV and cupped his hand over the phone, like he was tryin to stop the brothers from hearing. But he spoke up real good. “Oh la la, je crois que la poubelle est en train de s’offusquer. C’est preseque commes s’il pouvait me comprende!”

“Now listen here, you stupid Frenchie! I know you can understand us! What’s your problem?” Spy suddenly looked angry, and Scout realized he’d been angry this whole time, and mocking his brothers was how he’d been dealing with it. He started talking in pitch perfect English and his naturally deeper voice.

“No, you listen street filth. You have a wonderful brother that is a competent mercenary and good friend to his team. And I am very much thankful that we got him instead of any of you. How dare you talk to him like he’s nothing? You are lucky that I caught you instead of the others here, because I do not want you dead for this. But Scout has friends here that could outperform your precious gang and you, no contest.

Do not call this number again, do you understand? I know you will say something hateful and stupid, and somebody scarier than me will hear it and come after you. And believe me pal, this Mercenary company can make sure you’re never found. Adieu!”

And with that, Spy roughly hung up the phone. Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that he’d switched from his thick French accent to a perfect Bostonian one somewhere in the middle of his threat.

———————

Merriam got her phone back from her three problem sons, who were acting all jumpy. They said some crazy French guy got on the phone with them and threatened them about joking with Scout.

Something was wrong. Antoine would never threaten her boys, even though she knew they deserved it. But from the details she forced outta them, he was acting like his younger self. Back before they dated, they were already friends and he would go to the bar with her.

He used to do the “naive foreigner” routine on guys at the bar that tried to start fights or wouldn’t leave her alone. It freaked them out because he’d switch from a real cheerful harmless tone in French to dead serious and speaking proper English. He stopped doing that years ago.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t contacted her in four weeks. She made up her mind to call his wife and let her know.

What did young Spy say to Scout’s trash brothers? [Used a translator, so this might be off.]

Oh hello, I was worried about the lack of *******s on base.

You are so foul that drenching you in butter like a snail would create brown slop. You disgusting street rat.

My oh my, did the little brother offend you piggy? How awful of him to be amused by your snorting.

Oh dear, I think the trash is getting offended. It’s almost like he can understand me!

[farfromharry]

Beth [ 24 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson series

Twenty-four, Jessie

Word count - 5666

Warnings - mentions of birth and i literally have no idea

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

November 1999

For the first few months, you hadn’t mentioned anything about the baby to anyone. It was one big thing after another that you didn’t want to take attention away from, but at a certain point you couldn’t hide it anymore. Your babies were the first ones you told, as you and Eddie believed they deserved to know before anyone else. The new baby would affect their lives more than anyone else in your families, so you thought it was only fair. 

You were hoping that telling your kids about the new baby would go increasingly better than it had the first time around. You didn’t need another Beth situation like that of the first few months of Lola’s life. But she was older now, and knew what having a sibling was like, so she’d hopefully be more open to it this time. Lola? Well, she was still fifty-fifty, you wouldn’t know until you told her. 

You and Eddie decided to sit the two kids down on the couch, sitting across from them with, probably creepy, smiles on your faces. Bat decided to join them also, adorably, situating himself in Beth’s lap, deciding he was going to take a nap there.

Although the elder of the two was confused about all this formality, not used to the randomness of her parents acting so serious, she didn’t say anything just yet. She did eye you both though, so you knew that she wasn’t happy about this situation. As for your Lols, she was using her dad as a jungle gym. She could never sit still for too long, and she was giggling away as she crawled all over her dad. He usually would have entertained her for a while, had you not needed to get this news out. 

“Lola girl, need you to sit down for a few minutes,” Eddie told her, kindly, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. He didn’t want to upset her or make her think she was in trouble at all, and although she let out a little huff, she did sit down for him. However, she did steal one of his big hands to hold with her tiny ones in her lap. 

“We have some news,” you started. You had already agreed your husband would be the one to tell them, as he was probably the one they would take it the best from. Your girls were wholeheartedly daddy’s girls. You could hear quiet ow’s falling from Eddie’s lips as he pulled his hand away from his daughter, she’d let her impulsivity get to her and sunk her teeth into her father’s hand just because. He didn’t seem to like it. 

Beth sighed loudly, slouching. “Are you dying?” she asked. You hadn’t expected such a grim question to come your way, and you were a little shocked that she’d even ask that, but either way you had to give her an answer. 

You and Eddie both tried to answer at the same time, with you reassuring her that you were perfectly fine, no one was dying, and your husband muttering something about how your news was even worse than that. Although, you’d expect any regular thirteen year old to be concerned by those words, Beth was used to her fathers shenanigans by now. “Oh god, is Auntie Tulip pregnant again?”

The man beside you began to chuckle under his breath, and you had to whack his thigh for him to shut up. He would have a field day telling his best friend that one. 

“Look,” he began. “We don’t want you to worry, because it’s a big change, but you’re going to have a new baby sibling in a few months.” He did a little show of jazz hands that was supposed to make the news go down more lightly, but you didn’t know if it had worked. You had yet to gauge the reaction of the kids. 

“Huh?” Lola asked, cocking her head to the side in confusion. 

You thought it was positively adorable. 

“There’s a baby in mom’s stomach, Lala,” your eldest explained. It was clear even that brief statement didn’t help her entirely get what was going on, but she had a better idea than before, and it broke her little heart. 

“Baby?” she whimpered, her big brown eyes welling with tears. You hadn’t expected such emotion to overcome her, but it was mere seconds before she burst into tears right in front of you. You tried to reach for her, hoping she would let you welcome her into your arms and soothe her sadness away. But she wouldn’t let you. She outright refused to go anywhere near you. She didn’t hold the same view for Eddie. 

She was more than happy to force her way into his lap, burying her head in his chest as she cried. “Mater,” she mumbled. 

Your brow furrowed, repeating the word to yourself under your breath. Beth was once again happy to help with the bewilderment. She seemed to be very good at doing that today, so much so that she hadn’t even voiced her own reaction to the news. “She means traitor.”

You muttered an ‘oh’, taking a little offense to the words of your child, but you brushed it off due to the fact she was a small child dealing with some pretty big emotions. Though you didn’t know exactly what was wrong, and she probably wouldn’t tell you now, you could probably make a pretty accurate guess.

Eddie, though he really should be acting like a parent right now, was finding her rejection of you actually rather amusing. “Mommy’s a big meanie, right?” It didn’t matter to him that it took two to tango apparently, he was pinning this all on you to earn brownie points with your child. You hated that she nodded too. 

“Now who’s the mater?” you grumbled. 

You shot your husband a glare, watching as he got the pleasure of cradling your toddler to his chest, big hand stroking her back in hopes of cheering her up a little bit. Knowing he was loving this only made you scoff, deciding you were going to head out and take your beloved Beth with you, maybe then the two of you could talk about how she felt at the information of a new baby in the house. “Come on, Bethy, we’ll leave these maters here.”

She was happy to follow, on the condition that she could bring Bat along with her. The cat didn’t protest, happily being scooped into her arms, so neither did you. 

“Lols?” Eddie spoke quietly. She shook her head. He tried again, but only got the same response, so he had no choice but to stop letting her hide. She didn’t take too lightly to that, trying to fight back against her dad. “Need you to talk to me, my pretty girl. I can’t have you all upset like this.”

She sniffled. “I-If mommy has a baby, I won’t be the baby anymore.” The words had only made her cry harder. She didn’t mean to, but telling her dad the truth had only brought all the emotions back up in her chest. 

With that admittance, Eddie knew that she was just scared. It was exactly what had happened with her sister when she was born. “Oh, sweet girl,” he frowned. “You’ll always be our baby.” That much was true, even though she hadn’t been the youngest for a few years now, Beth was also your baby. None of your kids would be made to think they were anything less than vitally important in your lives. 

Her teary eyes peered up at him, a pout prominent on her lips. “Promise?” It hurt his heart that she wasn’t entirely convinced, but he would sit there and reassure her all day long if he had to. 

“I promise.”

The further along in your pregnancy you got, the more your girls warmed up to the idea of having a new sibling in the house. Lola was particularly excited, she already loved her big sister to death, she was positive she’d love this one just as much, if not more. And she would have been more excited the day of that baby's arrival, had she not been so sleepy from a nap. 

Going into labor in the middle of the day was not what you wanted to do. In your mind there were still a thousand and one things you needed to do before you had this baby, you’d been so busy the entire month, what with trying to plan a surprise for your husband’s birthday– now really wasn’t the time for them to decide to make their appearance. But of course you can’t predict or choose when stuff like this is going to happen.  

Despite having done this once before, Eddie was freaking out again, big time. You tried to put off alerting him for as long as you could handle, gathering your belongings, letting Wayne know and then waking your toddler from her nap. Beth was at a friends for the time being, though she would have to go back to her grandpa’s when she got done with that. So all you had left to do was make your husband aware and pray that he wasn’t too irritated you’d waited so long to tell him.

He had been in the living room playing some song on his guitar to pass the time while you and Lola napped in your bedroom. The exhaustion that had accompanied this pregnancy had really been wearing you down; part of you was glad to have a toddler by your side that you could have mutual naps with, though it often left your husband lonely. Only on occasion would he join the two of you. When you’d woken after your first contraction, you had heard the soft strumming, leaving you with the impression that you had time before he realized something was wrong. Thankfully he never did notice there was a problem occurring just beside the room he was in.

In the first moments when you let him in on the fact you were in labor, you didn’t know if he was going to explode. He seemed angry with you, with the fact you hadn’t let him help and had instead suffered in silence. He could have done half the things you did with more ease and you could have been off to the hospital in a third of the time you were now. However, he wasn’t going to yell at you when he knew the kind of pain you were in, that was a step too far in his book. “Let’s just get going, yeah?” 

You didn’t like the animosity that was lingering over the two of you as he scooped up Lola. With regrets about your prior decisions of the day, you followed him out of the house, making sure the door of the cabin was locked and going over your mental checklist to make sure you had everything. 

The first stop was Wayne’s, the man kind enough to allow you to drop Lola off there for him to take care of her while you were at the hospital. Just like the first time you gave birth, when he was generous enough to watch over Beth, he was going to bring both girls to the hospital after your baby was born. Though you weren’t sure when that was going to be just yet. It seemed like they wanted to take their time with their exit, which wasn’t really good news for you. You’d preferably like them out as soon as physically possible. 

“Eddie,” you whined, blindly reaching for the man’s hand. He offered it to you with a frown, painfully sympathetic to the position you were in. “Please tell your kid to get out of me,” you begged. You sounded so desperate that it physically hurt his heart. 

He sat on a chair beside the bed you were in, bringing his head down near your stomach. His mouth was basically against your skin now, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice against you. “Hi, baby, it’s your dad,” he greeted them first off. “We’re so excited to meet you, but we can’t if you don’t get out of there.”

You smiled sweetly at his words. He just always seemed to know the perfect thing to say.

It was probably just an amazing coincidence, but it seemed like Eddie’s little chat with the baby did actually speed up the whole process. Within the next ten or so minutes, you were ready to start pushing.

You could admit that this time around was a lot harder than last time. This baby decided they were stubborn, much more than your Lola, and they were adamant they were staying in your womb for as long as they could. Although it was tiresome and grueling, it all became worth it when the nurses announced you had a healthy baby boy.

When the little boy was placed on your chest, you had flashbacks to the first time you met your precious Lola. The feeling was the same, one of warmth and nothing but bliss towards the child that had made you a mother again. It didn’t matter that he was screaming or covered in weird goo, he was yours, you and your husband had made him out of love. It was a feeling you would never be able to verbally explain to someone who hadn’t had kids. But you were sure it was what heaven on Earth felt like.

Despite the chaos of the room around you, your little boy was all that you could focus on, at least until you were informed they needed to take him to be cleaned up. It was the only moment you’d really been given to breathe in hours, no one bustling around you or shouting instructions at you, it was pleasant. 

Eddie took the opportunity to talk to you, praising how well you did. “He’s perfect. I’m so proud of you,” he gushed, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead. You flushed under his compliments. He didn’t stop there, they kept spilling out of his mouth without a filter, all the way until your baby was brought back to you. 

The yet to be named Munson, the youngest of the bunch, was practically passed out. You’d think he was the one who’d just experienced childbirth with the way his eyes were glued shut as he snoozed in your arms. 

“Such a sleepy baby, huh?” Eddie muttered, stroking over the minimal hair on the little boy’s head. 

It was a beautiful sight to see your husband so entranced with the baby. You wished he could see how amazing of a dad he was from your perspective. He would truly be blown away. Which is all the more reason why it would be so special that your boy decided to make his appearance on the day of the thirtieth. It was by pure chance that your eyes had caught the clock beside your hospital bed, but you were forever glad you did, because it was you who had the pleasure of telling your husband that this little baby was his first birthday present of the day. 

“Hey, Eddie. Look at the time,” you whispered, not wanting to startle the newborn resting in your arms. There was a smile on your face that was nothing but blissful. The hustle and bustle of the evening had finally calmed down, and only now were you realizing it was almost four in the morning on the thirtieth. Your baby boy was born in the early hours of November thirtieth, conveniently, your husband’s birthday. “Happy birthday, honey. To both my guys.”

He let out a quiet laugh, running his thumb over the baby’s cheek. “My own little birthday present, huh?”

That fact was bathed in by him for the rest of the morning, while you got your rest and Eddie got the chance to hold your baby for a little while. It gave him the chance to think about names, you would be way too exhausted to even begin to consider them, so he thought he would take that burden off of your shoulders. You didn’t need any more struggles to handle. He proposed the idea once you woke up.

“I uh, I was thinking of baby names while you were asleep,” he told you. While you fed the little boy, he held your other hand, occasionally dropping a kiss down onto the back of it in a sweet gesture. “I think I’ve got one I really like.”

You hadn’t expected him to take the initiative, but you were happy to hear that he had. “Hit me,” you said. 

“Well, I wanted to stick with the little song theme we’ve got going,” he explained. You honestly didn’t expect him to stray from that anyway. But you could say you were excited to hear his suggestion. You were so tired that you would probably end up agreeing to it anyway. “How about Jessie?”

You were quiet while you thought it over, testing it a few times to see how it felt. “Where’d you get that?” 

He smiled. “Jessie’s girl, Rick Springfield. Played non-stop this one summer I visited Tulip in New York. Hated it at first, not my style, but it grew on me,” he explained. There was a dumb little grin on his face while he told you the story. It showed you how much such a simple thing meant to him and your heart fluttered. That was the summer he’d got lost on the subway, ended up in Brooklyn like a lost puppy and Tulip had had to bribe him not to tell her mom. “It’s a really good memory. Mostly.”

You were more than happy to accept that as your son’s name. The final decision came to the baby himself though, hoping he’d maybe give a sign or something if he liked it. It probably sounded silly to most, but Eddie would always indulge your silly behavior. “Let’s see what he thinks, huh?” You stroked his cheek lightly, and his little eyes blinked open. “Hi, Jessie. How’s that sound?  You wanna be Jessie Munson?”

You could’ve sworn the little boy smiled at you, and he definitely squeezed your finger. Maybe it was just wishful thinking but you swore that was him telling you yes. 

Like he felt the same, your husband’s eyes flickered to your face. “Jessie it is.”

Only shortly after you named your boy, were you greeted with a knock at the door. It was still early, barely even nine, so you assumed it was a nurse or someone, but then you were met with the kind face of Wayne. 

The first visitors in to see the baby, were of course your family. Beth had done this once before, but she was over the moon to do it again with a baby brother this time. Lola sort of knew what was going on, but she was a little too small to have a complete idea. Wayne was just happy to be meeting a third grand kid. 

The first thing you noticed when the three entered the room was the tired expression written all over your eldest’s face. She was far from a morning person, the opposite of how she used to be, but also the opposite of her younger sister, of whom was almost bouncing off the walls of the room she was so awake. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you greeted, pulling her into a quick hug as she checked on you. Her eyes weren’t on you though, even as she asked questions about how you were and how everything went. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sleeping boy in your arms. 

You noticed. “He’s cute, huh?”

She nodded, itching to climb on the bed with you. You happily invited her up. She made herself comfortable, resting her head on your shoulder so she could gaze down at the baby while Lola scurried off to her father. You could hear her saying the word baby over and over again, so it was obvious she was excited. Beth was happy to make her greeting to her brother quick so that her sister could meet him sooner. She might explode if she didn’t meet him sooner. 

“What’s his name?” the teen asked. 

You glanced at your husband, offering him a sweet smile. “Jessie.”

She repeated it to herself quietly. She wouldn’t know where it came from, probably never having heard the song that was released before she was born, but the smile on her face was telling you she liked it. The older man who was still in the doorway however, got the reference, grinning to himself knowing it was his nephews doing. 

A single look from your youngest daughter told you she was desperate to meet him, unable to stay still in her father’s grasp. You didn’t want to force her to keep waiting any longer, so you summoned your husband over to take Jessie from you.

It was familiar, watching Eddie sit Lola on his knee while he helped her hold Jessie. You recalled him doing the exact same thing with your other baby the first time she was introduced to Lola. Now though, she stood watching over her dad’s shoulder, but he still made sure to keep an arm around her to make sure she felt included. You felt transported back to where you were four years ago, with Wayne by your side congratulating you. “Another beautiful baby. D’you think this one will be the last?” he asked. 

You couldn’t have gotten your answer out quick enough if you were being honest with yourself. “Definitely. No more Munson babies from me.” Eddie was yet to be told that part, but he didn’t really have much of a choice but to agree. The older man would happily back you up if need be though. 

“Who needs more when you’ve got the three cutest babies in the world?” You silently agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of sleepy Beth’s head. She hummed quietly, snuggling closer into your side. “Sometimes I can’t believe Eddie helped make them.” One of your favorite things about the older man was his ability to make you laugh with his jokes and random comments every now and then. You didn’t even know if he knew how funny he could be sometimes. 

His tone changed quickly, upon his eyes landing on the sight of his nephew and two of his kids. It was a sight he thought he would never see, unsure whether the child he raised would ever want to raise some of his own, considering the parents he had that had left a pretty permanent mark on who he was. “It’s crazy remembering he’s a dad sometimes,” he told you. There was a look in his eye that you couldn’t quite explain, but you would assume it was overwhelming love or pride– or something similar to that. “I’m so proud of the both of you. You’re amazing parents.”

You hadn’t intended on crying during this visit, but you supposed all the new emotions within your body meant it was inevitable. “God, Wayne. You big sap,” you teased. You dabbed at the tears leaking from your eyes, making the man grin. 

“Sorry, Sunny.” He aided his words with a kiss on the top of your head, and a tight squeeze. It was after that that he left you to get his own cuddles in with the babe. 

Your hand was stroking Beth’s wild hair as she fought sleep. She was still trying to come around after being woken up a couple hours earlier. If it was any other time of the day she probably would have been just as bouncy as Lola at the prospect of the new baby, but as for now, her excitement would come later when she finally got her energy back. “He’s really cute, mom,” she said. 

You smiled. “You think?” There was never more pride for a mother than being told your baby was cute. You could hear it over and over. 

“Yeah. Can I help take care of him?” She had never offered to do that for her sister before, maybe that was due to her age when her sister had been born, or just because she thought you could handle it, but that didn’t matter, you were honored by the offer anyway. 

“Of course you can. Thank you, baby.”

She did in fact grow more and more excited over Jessie throughout the day. They stayed for as long as they could, keeping you company until visiting hours were over. You were sad to see your two babies go, convinced you didn’t get enough cuddles from either of your girls today, but you didn’t have the energy to argue. You were much too tired and Wayne could tell, scooping Lola up into his arms to stop her from poking at your cheek any more. 

“Well, we’ll let you get some more rest. God knows you’re gonna need it,” the man joked. You both knew he was right. You had pretty much forgotten what it was like to care for a newborn, what with both your kids having slept through the night for a while now. It was going to be a whole new round of hell for you both. But, you were willing to make these kinds of sacrifices for your boy. 

“If he’s anything like you said Eddie was, we’re gonna need it.” You had been told by Wayne on many occasions that your husband was a screamer as a kid. You had seen that behavior exhibited in your Lola a little bit in the first few weeks of her life, but it hadn’t lasted as long as you expected it to. It might be a whole different story for Jessie though. You would come to find that in the next few weeks.  

He didn’t find that joke amusing, despite the fact that Beth definitely did. She was giggling as her father glared at you. She was the one to dispel his anger thankfully. You could almost visibly see him deflate when she tackled him in a hug. Eddie loved all his kids, but you could tell he had a different connection with Bethy. He reminded her that he loved her, then the same for Lola, before his beloved uncle was leading them out of your hospital room for the night. You’d see them again soon enough. 

You started letting friends come by the day before you were due to go home. Certainly more would be showing up at the cabin throughout the week, all of whom wanting to be introduced to the new member of your big extended family. You would have no problem with it, though you were glad they were so kind to do it in small groups, lord knows so many people at one time would be overwhelming. 

The first non-biological family visitors were of course the Harringtons, insisting they had to meet him before the rest of your friends did. 

“Munson, not only did you steal my birthday, but now your kid stole it too?” His voice was much too loud for the hospital room, startling both you and your husband who had been having an extremely quiet conversation. Both sets of eyes jumped to him and immediately took to shushing him.

“Dude, he’s sleeping,” Eddie whisper-yelled. Tulip was happy to scold him with a slap to the arm, glaring at her husband for being so irresponsible. He looked back at the three of you with a look of complete disbelief on his features, finding it hard to believe he’d only walked into the room and suddenly he was the bad guy already. That was actually a common occurrence for Steve, though he would always argue it was never his fault.

He rolled his eyes at the sudden attack. “So, where is he?”

“Sleeping,” Eddie repeated, nodding his head in the direction of the small bed just beside you both. He looked so effortlessly peaceful in his slumber, but if Steve kept up his loud tone, he wouldn’t stay that way for long. The metalhead was happy to lead his friend to look, insisting that it was okay as long as he was silent. 

While the two men admired the baby, you found yourself talking with Tulip, discussing how you were, how she was, all of it. You were too distracted talking with his wife to even notice when Steve had taken your boy into his arms with the help of your husband. If there was one thing Harrington could do, it was look like a dad always. He looked so at ease and peaceful with a baby in his arms, so used to holding his own that it just became natural for him. 

“What d’you think, Steve?” he asked, eyeing the man holding his son in case he needed to step in at any point. It didn’t matter that Steve had been a father almost as long as Eddie has, he was still terrified his newborn son may get harmed in some way– even if that was due to being held incorrectly by the man who was practically a pro by now. 

“Had to have a boy too, huh? Right after I had a boy,” he grumbled. It was a dumb thing for him to be annoyed about, but he was also Steve, if there was something silly to be made over, he definitely would take that chance. Regardless of what he was saying, he was still smiling down at the baby boy smiling in his arms. “On my birthday, as well?”

The new father scoffed. “Hey, it’s my birthday too that I’m giving up.” It truly wouldn’t be a family related event if the two didn’t start arguing at some point, that was what they were best at. They would never just admit they were friends, they always had to make things awkward. 

He huffed. “Okay, maybe that was a coincidence. But the gender too?”

Eddie felt like his head was going to explode. “That was a coincidence too!” he borderline yelled. Then he remembered that his baby was still asleep and lowered his voice so he wouldn’t wake the newborn. “You know we don’t get to choose, right? I’m not copying you, Steve. Get over it.”

That was pretty much how the rest of the visits from the couple went too. 

Going home with three kids rather than two was strange. It was so weird to think that just a couple days ago, Jessie was in your stomach, and now he was in your arms as you brought him inside his home for the first time. It was truly a surreal feeling that you didn’t think you would get over any time soon. 

Lola ran inside as soon as the door was open, scouring the place for the house cat who would probably be sniffing around his food bowl like usual. Beth followed suit, offering to be the one to feed Bat for you so you didn’t have to worry about doing so. And who were you to say no to that offer? It allowed you the opportunity to go and lay Jessie in his new crib in the nursery. You’d had to transform one of the girl’s rooms in order to have somewhere for your boy to stay. It was less than ideal, but this cabin meant a lot to a lot of people, and you didn’t plan on getting rid of it. 

As you settled the baby boy down into his crib, Eddie practically clinging to your back, you couldn’t help but think about how perfect your family was now. It had never been your intention to end up with three kids. If you told you from fifteen years ago that you’d be in this position now, you probably would have freaked out. Never did you think you’d be a good mother, due to your own bad role model growing up. But here you were, arguably one of the greatest mothers you knew. And even if you weren’t, at least you loved your kids to death. 

“He’s so gorgeous,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

You hummed, leaning back into him. “We made him.”

The next kiss was placed on your clothed shoulder. “We did. And he’s absolutely perfect.”

The two of you stood there fawning over his sleeping form for a short while. You had no idea how long it’d been when a shrill cry erupted from his mouth, but you certainly didn’t waste a single second when it came to taking him into your embrace. You held him as close to your chest as you possibly could. When he’d begun to cry, you pouted, cooing quietly. He had barely been out of them and he had already decided he didn’t like it. “Oh no, what’s wrong my Jessie boy?”

Eddie watched on with such adoration. The sounds of your child crying were never particularly enjoyable, but right now he couldn’t find it in him to find it as awful as he would say in the middle of the night. 

The first sign of what it was like to raise three kids at once was shown to you within the next few minutes. While your baby boy cried his little lungs out, your other two found themselves fighting like the sisters they were. “Daddy!” Lola called, sounding as though she was distressed. You could see the concern flashing in his eyes before she tamed it with her next words. “Beth took my toy!”

Your husband sighed, dropping his head onto your shoulder in exasperation. This was going to be more difficult than you originally thought. Your kids could certainly make it easier on you if they tried, but they certainly weren’t going to try. “Go on, dad. You’ve got work to do.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

[extremelyblackandwhite]

"fuck it, a new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you — i love you.” with Bucky Barnes 💗

pairing: bucky barnes x maximoff!reader

a/n: thank you so much for your request! if anyone else wants to participate, here’s the instructions

12 days of christmas - day 2

Bucky’s civilian life was more of a hermit one than excitement filled one. It was both one of constant surveillance by his therapist and staying inside his home; it was particularly bad during the holidays and after a walk, he had been arrested by the police, blaming him for missing a court mandated therapy session. In his defense, the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with passive aggressive remarks for two hours; yet, looking back on it, the last he wanted to do was to spend the holidays in a cell.

      - Barnes, you’re up. - the guard opened the cell for him. Great, now he probably would have to handle Sam. Perhaps, spending Christmas in jail was not that bad. 

He dragged his feet down the aisle, awaiting to see Sam’s face, but instead all he saw was a maroon dress followed by a familiar face. He continued with a scowl on his face, surely Sam had gotten her to come by instead and probably was waiting in the car for him to give him yet another one of his cheat life lessons. The guard smiled at Y/N before pretty much shoving him her way, yet maintaining the same smile. The Maximoffs surely knew how to charm someone, and Y/N Maximoff was no exception.

       - Where’s Sam?  

       - With Sarah and the boys. It is the Holidays, Bucky. - she smiled, as she always did. No matter how many passive aggressive remarks he had, she just always continued to smile. 

Tony Stark had once called her a professional empath, the balance of the Maximoff triplets who seemingly just enjoyed ensuring everyone was happy. Bucky found it strange; he knew she’d been a HYDRA experiment like him and her siblings yet she refused to let anyone know what she could do and was yet to be affected by the cynicism both Wanda and him had fallen victim to. 

       - So you paid my bail?

       - You promised you’d help me get a Christmas tree. I can’t do it by myself. 

       - What about your sister?

       - Wanda’s with Vision looking for a new place. Besides, she’s not as fun as you.

       - I doubt a 100 year old man without an arm is funner than the witch who can do whatever she wants with magic. 

        - I think you are much fun. 

Outside the weather was incredibly cold, cold enough to freeze someone and Bucky wondered why couples would want to walk outside when it was this cold. Yet looking to his right, and seeing her smile as she walked down the street towards the pile of Christmas trees, maybe, maybe he understood why. He tried not to dwell on it. She was just nice, she was nice with everyone and after moving to the same building as him, she’d become nicer. However, she was nice to every single neighbour of theirs. 

      - What about this one? - she pointed to a particularly short one, a bit rounded but much shorter than every other one. - I think it’s cute.

      - I think it’s shorter than you. 

      - Bucky, c’mon. It’s cute, I want this one. 

      - You sure? - he looked at the tree again, turning to look at the salesman who just shrugged. - Don’t you want a big tree?

      - I like this one. - she crossed her arms, making Bucky chuckle. - Could I have this one?

He really did try to dislike her in the beginning. She agreed with Sam most of the times, Steve adored her and even Tony, who disliked most people Steve liked, was fond of her. He found no reason for her to put up with him, he was much older than her, he fundamentally had a different outlook on life. However, whenever she looked at him with those eyes, full of hope and ... some emotion he couldn’t read, he couldn’t help but love her. Not that he’d ever tell her. Not that she’d ever love him back. It was just something for him to know, for him to whisper to himself at night.

      - The short, fat one? - he said once again as he attempted to bring the tree into her living room. - Why?

      - It’s not fat. - she took her scarf off. - It’s chubby.

He mumbled sure under his breathe, placing the tree on the corner of her living room. Her flat was much more of a home than his, she’d taken her time making it comfortable to her, decorating it with as much love as she had. He looked at the photos on the walls - several from her childhood, brother and sister; however, a small one in a frame by the kitchen caught his attention. God, he could barely remember that day with Sam, yet there it was, a photo of the three of them. 

     - Do you want some tea? - she returned from her bedroom. - I have chamomile, mint, green, black, blueberry and Wan got me some from her trip to Europe with Vis. 

     - Did Sam tell you to bail me out?

     - I think Sam’s a bit busy playing Santa to constantly watch over you, Buck. White or Christmas mug?

     - How did you know then? - he ignored her question.

     - I care about you, Buck. Besides, Sam changed your emergency contact to me a very long time ago.

    - It’s not your obligation to constantly watch over me, you know?

    - I know but we’re ... we’re friends, right? That’s what friends do. 

    - We’re not friends, Maximoff. Just because we were tortured by the same people does not makes us close. 

    - We weren’t tortured by the same people, considering I wasn’t alive in the 40s. 

    - You know what I mean, Y/N. You chose to go, I didn’t. - stop, he yelled mentally to himself.

    - I didn’t chose to go. - she turned around, crossing her arms. - I didn’t chose to go, I didn’t willingly go to die, I had no choice. I know you’re defensive and I know you don’t want help but I don’t deserve having to listen from you that I willingly chose to be used and tortured. 

Fuck, Bucky. That was not good. 

    - Sorry. - he mumbled. 

    - I don’t know why you don’t like me. - she confessed. - I don’t know what I’ve done to make you say those things to me or to hate me. 

    - I don’t hate you. 

    - Because I’ve never been rude to you, or mean to you and I know you don’t want to be helped but I thought maybe you’d like to have someone. 

    - I like to have someone. 

    - Then why do you keep pushing me away?

    - Because ... well fuck it, a new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you.

   - Hide what?

   - I love you.

She stood frozen on her ground, her cheeks flustered with heat as she held onto the marbled balcony of her kitchen. 

   - Oh ...

   - And I don’t deserve you. Shit, Maximoff, how would I even ... how could we even ...

   - You know ... some people take someone on a date first.

   - People these days are very slow with emotion deciphering. 

   - I still would like to be wined and dined first. 

   - Oh ...

   - Yeah ... so are you gonna ask me on a date Barnes?

[kleenex-tissues]

Yours Truly (10)

AO3 here

Ch. 10: Rotating Album of Love

Ever since she was young, Marinette has had a habit of collecting photos. Ones she’s taken of her friends, Paris, and all the moments she wanted to remember. She kept them stacked on desks, taped to the wall, and shoved into every nook and cranny she could fit one into. They surrounded her in the cubby wrapping around her bed, watching over her just as she had once watched them through the lens of her camera.

When she fell in love with Adrien Agreste at the age of 14, the photos began hiding behind images of him. Magazine shoots covered the wall behind her bed, and many of the ones by her bed were meticulously replaced with photos featuring both her and Adrien. His green eyes filled her view whenever she stepped into the room. It was her own personal heaven. Every day, she could walk home to perfect sunny smiles greeting her. She imagined them accompanied by a smooth, silky voice and a gentle kiss on her awaiting lips.

But when Marinette realized she couldn’t keep loving Adrien, the walls sat bare. She tried to replace the photos that had once donned the edges of her room, but she couldn’t escape the eyes she felt now judged her for having taken them down in the first place.

So she took new ones. She’d take photos of her friends dressed in her hand-sewn designs, photos of the Parisian skyline as the sun set, photos depicting the very world she sought to fall in love with once more. The easiest way to stop loving Adrien would surely be to love all of Paris. After all, she was Ladybug. That’s what she was supposed to do, anyway.

A picture with Alya sat on her desk. Another featuring Nino on her shelves. Juleka, Rose, Ivan and Luka in their old costumes for their band “Kitty Section.” Jagged and Penny taking Marinette to her first international concert. Her parents kneading dough together in the back of the bakery. Birthdays, holidays, and special events began to flood her room. Everything she loved was there. And despite herself, she kept a selfie of her and Adrien tucked beneath her bed.

After meeting Damian, Marinette started putting up the pictures he sent her, too. She enjoyed seeing Titus and Alfred napping together and dressed in the sweaters she had knit herself. They had a dedicated corner of her wall for those photos, right next to the window she had spent many nights staring out of.

Every image was lovely, but she received the loveliest from an unexpected source.

Instagram - Just Now

Dukethomas20 sent you a photo.

They had started talking last week, after the account had unexpectedly followed her. When Duke initially claimed to be the older brother of Damian, she hadn’t believed him. But then again, how did he know she was talking to Damian to begin with? And why did he have pictures of Titus and Alfred not even Damian had sent her?

After a long back and forth game of ‘21 questions,’ where it was solely Marinette asking personal questions only someone who personally knew Damian could tell her, she decided he could probably be trusted. Apparently Duke was adopted into the family, while Damian was the only biological child, meaning the multiple older siblings Damian had mentioned were likely also adopted. She wondered what it was like to have grown up with so many siblings, and how that might have possibly contributed to his being socially stunted.

They spoke often, though not as much as she talked to Damian. In their occasional conversations, they began bonding, leading to many embarrassing secrets about her pen pal.

So, when she opened up the chat, she should have expected for the photo to be something she knew Damian would be embarrassed for her to see. The picture showed a large beautiful lawn where a tall and muscular man bent down on one knee in front of a dog she recognized as Titus. Titus was clad in the sweater she had knit, licking straight up the man’s annoyed face.

Marinette was stunned at the message beneath it.

‘Here’s Damian trying to pose Titus for your picture.’

This was Damian? Oh, boy, was he handsome. Marinette felt her face flush, and she couldn’t help but trace his features.

She had imagined Damian to be thin and lithe, not built like he spent his free time in the gym. He was no bodybuilder, but his muscles certainly were not small. He had a deep tanned skin tone, a dark messy undercut, and bright green eyes.

Kwamis, Marinette was a sucker for green eyes.

She closed her phone. Then, opened it again to stare a little harder at the photo.

Dropping her phone to the ground, Marinette shut her eyes and slapped her already red cheeks. She yelled with a whine, “What are you doing, Marinette? You’ve never even seen him before! This could totally be some random guy you’re thirsting over thinking it’s Damian!!” She paused, realization dawning on her that no one else could possibly wrangle Titus into a sweater. “Oh, Kwamis! It is Damian, and you think he’s hot!”

Marinette fell to her knees on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, moving her hands to cover her entire face. Though, her tiny hands would never be able to cover the blush that was now crawling down her neck.

When she later printed it out to hang above her bed, the Kwamis couldn’t stop teasing her, but they were truly glad. Marinette was finally moving on, it seemed, and she deserved to find a new love. Someone to return her feelings, and love her in the way someone was always meant to.

That night when she laid her head down to rest, there he was. Her pen pal. Her friend. Her Damian. Well, maybe not ‘her’ Damian, but they spoke a lot. And he didn’t talk to anyone else like he did to her. And he even promised to show her Batcow when he sent his next email. He didn’t let anyone see Batcow!

“Marinette, I hope you’re not overthinking before bed again?”

Tikki really knew how to read her, didn’t she? “Sorry, I’ll go to bed,” she replied dejectedly and turned onto her side away from the picture. Tikki had a point. She needed to just go to bed, already. A chemistry exam was awaiting her in the morning, and she needed all the energy she could get to tackle it. Well, plus an energy drink or two.

Marinette dreamt of Damian that night, kissing her sweetly. This would surely come back to haunt her when she woke, but for now, she would enjoy the moment.

To: d.w.redbird@xxxxx.net From: maridesigns@xxxxx.net Subject:

Hey Dami!

I’ve always loved giving my friends nicknames, as I myself tend to go by mine. Alya is ‘Al,’ Adrien is ‘minou’ (kitten in French), Luka is ‘Lu,’ and even Jagged Stone likes it when I call him ‘Uncle Jag.’ I love Dami, so I hope you’ll let me continue to call you that. If not, that’s okay!

I passed my chemistry exam this morning!! I was so nervous, and I spent all day yesterday studying. Who puts an exam on a Monday morning anyway? This has gotta be some new form of torture for the student body.

My commissions have also been piling up like crazy! I’ve had at least a few new orders every day. I think I’ll have to close my commission application for the time being to catch up on all the requests. Though, if there’s anything you want me to make (like a sweater for Alfred this time?), I’m sure I could fit you in. :)

I haven’t even told you the most exciting part yet!!!! Tim Drake-Wayne, the youngest CEO to ever make it into the ‘30 Successful People Under the Age of 30’ and the king of American charities, commissioned me! He has a personal designer - I know, I’ve looked into it - and chose me to make a suit for his next gala.

This is so huge. I can’t even begin to comprehend what made him decide that I was a better choice than his designer, but who am I to complain? The only thing that could make this better is to finally hear back about the Paris Young Designers Contest. I submitted my application the moment it opened, but it always takes a month or two to announce the finalists. They have hundreds of submissions, so it really only makes sense. It should be released any day now, though.

I’ll update you as soon as it goes live!

Your Friend, Mari