#like she knows what mother's day is but not father's day

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Talia found Yasmin's hide out only two days after the bomb.

It wasn't easy. Yasmin had hidden herself well - her monthly reports had never mentioned an acquaintanceship with Vladimir Masters, the absolute gall of that girl - in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin. She bypassed the few security measures with ease, eventually finding her daughter sitting at a kitchen table, hyperventilating.

"What happened?" Talia's voice was cold and demanding.

"The-" Yasmin gasped before stealing herself. "The Fentons are dead."

"I know the Fentons are dead." Talia circled the girl. "One split navel to throat, the other strangled. What. Happened?"

"The Fentons discovered their son was a Meta. Specifically, they thought he had been replaced with the extradimentional species they study." She took a deep breath. "By the time I had discovered their actions, Daniel was... dissected on a table."

Talia closed her eyes. She knew from Yasmin's reports that she'd been acting as the Fenton child's primary caretaker since her adoption and a fondness had developed. "Yasmin-"

"Don't, Mother." She snapped. "Don't act like this is anything less than a tragedy."

"I know-"

"He was a child-"

"Everything's been taken care of," Talia said. "As far as the authorities are concerned, Jasmine Fenton died in that explosion you caused. You need to return now-"

"No!" Yasmin bolted to her feet, glaring at Talia. "He's dead, Mother! An innocent child, the child I raised as my own, is dead because I couldn't protect him! Don't you dare try to sweep this under the rug like... like Danny was something shameful! I'm not leaving! I have to-"

Time Out.

Yasmin shut her mouth mid-sentence, giving Talia time to convince her off her self-destructive path.

"What happened to Daniel is a tragedy, Yasmin. But wallowing in grief and what-ifs only leads to further pain." Talia sighed. "The Fentons and the research you were so fascinated with are gone now. You made sure of that. It's time for you to return home and put that knowledge to use."

Yasmin stared down at her hands. Odd that Talia hadn't noticed, but Yasmin's hands cradled a small, dark blue jewel, polished into a smooth, oblong oval. It glittered under the candlelight, like stars in the sky.

Yasmin swallowed the rock and spoke, refusing to acknowledge what she'd just done. "You are right, Mother. The time of Jasmine Fenton is gone now." She stared straight at Talia, no trace of fear in her gaze. For a moment, Talia wondered where her child had gone. Yasmin never met her eyes unless prompted to when she was growing up. Now she was met with a younger version of herself with cheap dyed-red hair, with the same level of determination that made Talia the Right Hand of the Demon Head. "I will mourn for Danny... on my own time. For now, what is my mission?"

Talia studied her daughter. There was a reason why she'd hidden the girl so far out of the way of her Father and her son. Yasmin was a strong fighter, but had her father's heart, despite her willingness to kill. She'd always reminded Talia of a bodyguard rather than an assassin, but Yasmin wanted to go her own way, wanted to study everything. For years, Talia had indulged her daughter, but now it was time for her to return to the fold.

"For the next month, you will be training to remove any weakness the Fentons may have left in you. After that, you will be guarding an ally for me."

"Which ally?"

"A boy a few years older than you, a son of the Bat." Yasmin didn't react to the mention of her father. Good. "His mind is infirm, but by the time you finish your training, he will be ready to strike a blow against Gotham. You will act as his guard during his training and act as my spy while he's in Gotham. Do you understand?"

For a moment, Yasmin's hand brushed her stomach before she forced her fists to her sides. "Yes, Mother. I will do as you ask."

[pinkiemachine]

I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

[floatyflowers]

Hello❤️I really enjoy your works!!

I was wondering if you would ever do anymore Egyptian pharaohs like ramses ii head-canons?If not feel free to ignore🫂Have a great day!!

Dark! Platonic Ramses II

You are his favorite child out of the one hundred children he had with his wives and concubines.

Maybe it's the fact that he was obsessed with your mother before she passed away during childbirth.

He remembers every small detail about you from what you like and dislike to what are your favorite hobbies.

Ramses is so focused on you to the point where he knows what decisions or actions you are going to make in the situation before you even do it or say anything.

Maybe that is why it's so easy to manipulate you because he knows exactly what you are thinking.

There are statues, engraving on walls, and many scriptures that dedicates that Ramses II favored you despite being the daughter of a minor wife.

He instructed the writers to exaggerate your good qualities, and if you have a flaw, they delete it.

Even though you are pretty, intelligent, and kind, so no one is lying here.

He even made the writers to make the suitors he rejected appear awful, like how they tried to sexually assult you so Ramses II killed them.

Ok, he is trying to hide his murders and make himself appear as the greatest father in the world.

Unfortunately, you pass away before him, yet that didn't stop him from mummifying your body and placing you in a golden coffin made out of the finest gold.

He kept that coffin inside his room.

The pharaoh believed that both of you would meet in the afterlife so Ramses made sure that when he passed away, you and him would share the same tomb.

[munson-blurbs]

hope you don't mind me asking but could reader adopt harris officially? it'd be a sweet little blurb ☺️

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Harris makes a special request on his birthday: for you to adopt him and officially be his mommy.

TW: mention of parental neglect/drug use, pretty much just all fluff and happiness

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there! Y'all are badasses who deserve to be celebrated. I used this video for the judge's dialogue to ensure accuracy.

February 2001

“So, Har,” Eddie starts through a mouthful of cake, “did you have a good birthday?”

Harris nods emphatically, digging into his own slice. A dollop of vanilla frosting dots the tip of his nose, but he continues eating, unbothered.

Eddie looks at you as you try to contain the inevitable mess that Hendrix will make. His chubby cheeks are already decorated with chocolate cake, and he’s only a few bites in. “Can you believe we have a nine-year-old now?”

You shake your head. The years truly have flown by, and though you haven’t had the privilege of being there for all of them, it feels as though Harris’s fifth birthday was only yesterday. 

“What’s crazy to me is that Harris is the same age you were when I took you in,” Wayne says to Eddie. He glances at his nephew, a wistful look in his old eyes. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris grins. “I forgot you took care of Daddy.”

Eddie leans back in his seat and smirks. “Did you ever regret adopting me, Old Man?” 

“Every damn day.”

While he may have tuned out his dad and grandfather’s back-and-forth, you can see Harris pause before he continues eating. He’s never been one to stifle his curiosity, the wheels in his head turning as he processes the information. 

His time to ask a question grinds to a halt when Hendrix slams his little palm right into the cake slice, grabs a chunk of it, and smashes it into his face. If any actually got in his mouth, it would be a miracle. 

Harris gets his opportunity later that night. Eddie tucks him into bed, pulling the SpongeBob comforter up to his chin, and kisses his head. 

“Daddy?” Harris asks before Eddie can stand up. 

“Hmm?”

“Why did Grampa adopt you?”

Eddie exhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek. As his eldest son has gotten older, he’s become more honest with him, not constantly shielding him from painful truths. He chooses his words carefully before speaking again. 

“Well, my mom and dad weren’t good parents. They didn’t take care of me, and they made a lot of bad choices,” he says. Memories flash through his mind, ones of eviction notices and strangers constantly in his home. Ones of police officers snapping handcuffs on his parents’ wrists, the two of them too far gone to even register to the severity of the situation. He shakes it off, turning his attention back to Harris. “And so Grampa Wayne took me in and adopted me so I would have a safe, happy home.”

“Like how my mom made bad choices? My real mom?”

Eddie nods, wondering if Harris knows how closely their situations resembled each other. Except you did what your father didn’t–you changed, he reminds himself. 

“Yeah, like that.”

Harris thinks for a moment. “But now Mom is my mom. So does that mean she adopted me?”

“No, she didn’t adopt you.” His heart sinks when he sees the small pout forming on Harris’s lips. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Why not?”

Eddie scratches at his jawline, his nails digging into a particular itchy patch of stubble. “Well, honestly…we wanted to make sure it was what you wanted, Har. Because Mom will love you no matter what,” he makes sure to add. 

Without any hesitation, Harris declares, “It’s what I want.”

“Are you sure? You can sleep on it—” Eddie feels a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth despite his attempt to remain neutral. Yes, his son often acts on impulse, but Eddie can tell this isn’t one of those instances. 

Harris huffs out an impatient sigh, irritated that he even has to explain himself. “Dad, I’m nine now,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m almost double-digits. And I know I want Mom to adopt me.”

Eddie grins wider, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “All right, bud. You got it.” He stands up with a grunt, something that Harris has already dubbed an ‘old man noise.’ “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Harris agrees sleepily, cocooning himself in his blankets while Eddie turns out the light. 

Eddie is teeming with excitement when he sees you sitting in the family room, an open bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in your lap. Hendrix was fast asleep in his crib, and it was finally time for you and your husband to relax. 

“So,” Eddie says, sliding onto the couch cushion next to you and plucking a chip from the bag, “it turns out that the birthday boy has one more gift request. A big one, actually.”

You raise your brows. “How big? Like, Hot Wheels track big or space camp big?”

“Neither.” Eddie’s eyes gleam. “He wants you to adopt him.”

You sit up quickly, a smile stretching across your face. “Are you…are you serious?”

“One hundred percent.” Eddie says with a nod. “He insisted on it, actually. I don’t think you could say no even if you wanted to.”

His teasing would normally draw a snarky retort from you, but you’re too overwhelmed to come up with a quip. “Harris wants me to adopt him,” you say slowly, letting each word seep into your tongue. 

Eddie kisses your cheek, his nose brushing your warm skin. “This is everything I ever wanted for him, you know,” he murmurs. Another kiss, then he tilts your chin so he can place his lips on yours. “Thank you for loving him.”

You snuggle in closer, your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me.”

September 2002

It’s a special occasion when you can convince Eddie and Wayne Munson to wear a suit and tie, but you didn’t even have to ask today. Both men are dressed with their shirts tucked into their slacks—not jeans. 

You smooth out a pleat in your dress, scoop Hendrix out of his Pack-N-Play, and grin at your family. 

“You guys ready?” You ask, desperate to get everyone into the car before someone spills something on their clothes. While Harris and Hendrix would be the most obvious culprits of a mess, the men are just as capable of causing chaos.

Eddie slings Hendrix’s diaper bag over his shoulder and takes Harris’s hand in his. “Let’s ship out, team.”

“Ship out!” Hendrix echoes–loudly, right in your ear. You wince, but you can’t stay annoyed for too long, considering how happy you are. How happy everyone is; even the baby of the family, who doesn’t know why he’s in a good mood, just that he is.

Everyone piles into the sedan: Eddie in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Wayne squished between his grandsons in the back.

“Don’t know how I ended up here,” Wayne grumbles, reaching behind for his seatbelt. 

Eddie grabs your hand as he pulls onto the road, giving it a tender squeeze. This is a huge deal; logically, you know this. To Eddie, he’s officially giving his son the mother he always deserved, and you’ll be able to make all sorts of important decisions for Harris. But to you, there is no piece of paper that can strengthen or weaken your love for your oldest son. Still, this is a promise from you to Harris, one that you will never break.

The courthouse’s silence is promptly broken with the Munsons’ arrival, as your family’s presence tends to do. Hendrix enjoys the way his delighted shrieks reverberate down the empty hallway, and Harris grips a nearby bench to jump out his nervous energy.

“Har?” you call out, waving him over to a private spot. He stops jumping long enough to follow you, shaking his hands excitedly.

You crouch down to his height and dig through your purse until you find what you’re looking for: a shiny silver compass with a quote engraved on the back:

“If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.” 

“Uncle Dusty recommended his favorite compass, and he said you can bring it on your next camping trip” you say with a smile, your lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I hope that every time you use it, you remember that I’ll always be here to help you find your way.”

Harris looks from you to the compass and back again. He grins and flings his arms around you, nearly knocking you over in the process.

“This is so cool!” He cheers. “I’m gonna show everyone!”

“What do you say?” Eddie reminds him, a twinkle in his eye.

Harris barely turns around to you to yell, “Thanks, Mom!”

Mom. That title never gets old, and you don’t think it ever will.

“Munson?” You jump slightly when a bailiff announces that it’s your turn to see the judge. He gives a small smile as you enter the courtroom, probably relieved that this is a joyful occasion that won’t likely require his intervention.

This is it, you think. You wish your dress had pockets to hide your trembling hands.

Everyone takes their positions. Harris stands between you and Eddie, and Wayne holds Hendrix at the end, ready to make a quick getaway in case the youngest Munson decides to throw a tantrum.

The judge addresses you directly. Her tone is firm but warm as she says, “Do you understand that if your petition for the adoption of Harris Wayne Munson is granted, you will be legally responsible for him?”

“Yes.” You feel Harris’s palm slide against yours; when you briefly look down, you see that his other hand is holding Eddie’s.

“And do you understand that this support includes food, clothing, shelter, as well as medical and educational support?” She continues.

You nod. “Yes.”

“And do you understand that if your request is granted, that you will be Harris’s parent in all respects, just as if he had been born to you?”

“Yes.” Your heart swells with love. Just as if he had been born to you. Even with the memorable pains and trials brought on by carrying and delivering Hendrix, you considered Harris just as much your son.

“And do you understand you will be undertaking the intellectual, spiritual, and moral guidance of Harris?”

You can almost hear your husband’s thoughts: Better her than me.

“Yes.” 

The judge goes through a few more questions, all regarding your abilities to care for Harris. With each one, you feel Harris’s bouncing get more exuberant; part of you wishes you could join him.

Finally, she declares, “Based upon the reports and recommendations, this court finds that granting this petition is in the best interest of Harris.” She looks directly at Harris as she says, “Congratulations, she’s officially your Mommy.”

A choked sob escapes your throat, and your free hand flies to your mouth. You and Eddie both crouch down to embrace Harris, and you can’t help but notice the tears in your husband’s eyes. Wayne makes his way to you and, as best as he can with Hendrix still in his arms, wraps you in a hug. You think he might be the only adult not crying, but a tell-tale sniffle gives him away.

Hendrix is very confused by the overt display of emotion. The last time Wayne cried was well before the boy was born, back when the Colts won the 1970 Super Bowl against the Cowboys.

“Daddy? Mommy? Grampa?” He asks. “Why you cry?”

“We’re fine, buddy. Just have some big feelings. Happy feelings,” Eddie clarifies, kissing Hendrix on a chubby cheek. He looks at Harris and grins. “How does it feel, Har? Now that Mom adopted you?”

Harris scrunches up his face. “Like the same.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. It’s not as wild as it was when he was your student, his curls less of a mop. “Good ‘the same’?”

He grins, nodding and hugging you again. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends, and Uncle Dusty, and Mr. Will…”

Harris continues listing people he’s going to share his news with all the way to the parking lot. Some names you recognize, and others he might as well be making up.

“Wait! I almost forgot!” You reach into your purse and pull out a Ziploc bag containing five Oreos. “Everyone take one, but don’t eat it yet.”

When each person has an Oreo in their hand, you raise your own to eye-level and begin your toast. “To my first son, Harris. Thank you for making me a mommy.”

“To Harris!” Wayne and Eddie chorus, and Hendrix just yells his brother’s name before chowing down on his cookie. 

As you all pile back into the car, Eddie takes your hand in his. Chocolate is still tucked into the crevices of his lips. 

“To you, Sweetheart. Thank you for being the mommy Harris always wanted. Thank you for making us a family again.”

The kiss tastes of vanilla creme, sugary sweet, and you swear you wouldn’t have broken it if Wayne didn’t clear his throat. 

“No need to make a third kid up there,” he mutters under his breath. 

Eddie glares at him, hoping Harris didn’t overhear the comment, but you press on. “Shall we celebrate at the diner?”

“Can we share pancakes?” Harris beams.

You crane your neck and look back at him, once again overwhelmed by the amount of love you hold for him–for your son.

“I’d love to.”

--

[sinning-23]

Baby Mama (OPLA HEADCANNONS)

In honor of mothers day, here some little headcannons I cooked up for our faves! Hope yall enjoy lol

Luffy

-This mf was like...actually capable of conceiving a child lmao.

-There was really no like initial shock, it was more like overwhelming joy? There was honestly no need to reveal it to the rest of the crew since the second you told him he shouted it loud ad fucing possible.

-"Luffy, uhhh I think im pregnant." You huff, hand over your forehead as you try to figure out the next course of action.

"YOURE PREGNANT?! THATS GREAT!"

"Y/N IS WHAT?" Nami gasps, eyes flitting form you to Luffy, then to your belly.

"YOU’RE PREGNANT?! HOW?" Usopp questions, only to have Sanji interrupt,

"Well Usopp, when two people love eachother- or well... lets talk about he birds and the bee-"

"I KNOW HOW THAT WORKS DICKHEAD-"

-Luffy is a.....he's a great dad, just a little uhhhh...wild?

-You have to explain tho him that this baby cannot fucking eat solid food.

-He's learning and that’s all that matters. He knows when to get serious about his kid and when its okay to be a lil silly.

-Oh and be prepared for when your kid hits about 6-7 cause they're so much like their father its crazy-

Zoro

-He's thuroughly convinced its your fault because he knows for a fact he has impeccable pull out.

-"That’s not mine." He hums, pointing at the newborn with a raise brow.

The fucking liar this baby is his spitting image. Like your genes didn't evens stand a chance. The baby even fucking mean mugs like he does, that lil stoic face.

-"This isn’t yours?" You question, holding the baby up side by side with his obvious father.

"Nope"

-Once he’s like fully processed and accepted the fact that your pussy just so happened to weaken his pull out game, he will claim the child and make sure he's being helpful with both you and the infant.

-It was actually pretty fucking hilarious to see the baby try and latch to his nipple cause his tits are fucking massive. Heeee didn’t think it was that funny tho💀

-Just let the kid grow up a little bit and they’re all about their father, and even though he may not show it all the time, he adores his baby. And they will always be a baby in his eyes. And he things you’re a phenomenal mother even though it was sort of a surprise.

Nami

-You had come aboaded with a toddler. And sure enough they latched to Nami in a heartbeat.

-“AHT! No, you stay with me and let them work.” You reprimand, giving a quick apology to the tangarine haired girl.

“Oh no they’re okay. Hey, you wanna see something cool?” He hum, taking the 2 year old by the hand before you can protest.

-Auntie Nami accidentally turned to ‘mamami’ (Mama Nami) andddd it just stuck.

-one night the three of you had fall asleep in Nami’squarter and she had woke up and just, admires you both. She couldn’t help the way her chest squeezed when she thought about raising this child with you or how much she loved being a part of your lives.

Your eyes flutter open and you give her a knowing look, her face already tinted pink.

“Nami,” you begin, your free hand pushing hair behind her ear as she hold your wrist, placing a kiss there.

“Thank you, love you.” You hum, letting yourself fall back asleep.

-yeah she’s stuck with you two for life

-unironically calls you her baby mama

Usopp

-is literally the best fuckinf dad. Literally ever.

-he wants to make sure he’s an active part of your child’s life, being sure to keep you both in good health and high spirits.

-when you broke the news he was terrified. How good of a father could he be? He just don’t want to let you down.

-“W-What if our kid hates me?” He voices one night, hands holding your tummy.

“I doubt that’ll happen. You’ll be okay Uso.”

-Guess having impeccable aim runs in the family because by time your child is year they’re already throwing projectiles with phenomenal accuracy.

-you can’t tell me he doesn’t make most of your babies toys.

-he loves seeing you just have little moments with your baby, he definetly cried when they took their first steps.

-keeps a picture of the three of you tucked away

-hints at wanting another one from time to time

Sanji

-fainted when you told him.

-honestly he’s a little shocked. He didn’t really put ‘father’ on his goal list but here yall are lol

-he’s very supported and knows that morning sickness is a bitchhhh

-“how’re my girls…or boy” he greets, pressing a kiss to your tummy then to your lips.

-much to his surprise, he was right on both parts because you’re having twins! Yayyyyy

-you cuss him out when your in labor.

-“SANJI YOU ASSHOLE! YOU DID THIS TO ME! WHY DID I FALL FOR YOUR DELICIOUS FOOD YOU FUCK!”

-he’s not allowed in the delivery room lmao he fainted again when the nurse asked if he’d like to see what was goin on

-after 6 horrendous hours, your baby boy and girl are finally born and he’s too delighted.

-“good job baby.” He praises, peppering your tired face with kisses.

-when the kids are older he’s always falling victim to their puppy eyes and begging when they ask for dessert before dinner

-“please dad! We won’t tell mom! Pleaseeee!”

-he loves being with you and loves that he’s been blasted with a wonderful wife and two beautiful children

Shanks

-oh the minute he found out he was stunned! He was sure he already had an illegitimate baby somewhere but for one of the baby mamas to actually let him know was, a bit of a surprised?

-and that’s it. He doesn’t really go out of his way to go visit and see if it’s true. He goes on about his business truely.

-one day, he comes across a lady at a bar, her bright red hair thrown up and she waits tables, her gaze almost immediately locking on his as she frowns

-….what the fuck she looks just like him.

-she goes to a couple other of the waiters/waitresses and the minute they catch his gaze they’re nodding profusely at her.

-it took, shit you not. 3 hours for them to get a table and that was only because her boss came in and MADE her seat the crew.

-“what do you want.” She huffs, her notepad clenched so tight it crumples the paper.

Shanks only further studies the girl, her rage ever present as she slams the notepad down.

“I SAID, What. Do. You. Want. Quickly, or I’m leaving you here to wait 3 more hours. Spit it the fuck out you old bastard.” She spits, leaving him somewhat shocked.

-“How about the-“

-“we’re all out. Deadbeat.” She finishes, dropping her apron and notepad, then walking out.

Safe to say that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.

-when he finds where you guys live and YOU answer the door thank god, he firstly apologizes (which you don’t accept right away) and explains how he already met your daughter.

Speak of the devil she had just rounded the corner asking who it was.

“Don’t let this fucker the house mom, please.” She begs, gaze flittering form you to her sperm donor.

-yeahhhhhh this is why he hardly ever makes the effort to see his unsuspecting kids. Doesn’t quite pan out how he thinks.

Mihawk

- you’re not the only one at all. He’s got plenty fucking kids running around and you’re fully aware of that, having run into more than one child that looks just mf like him.

-he won’t deny any of them, but he doesn’t feel like he owes them anything either? It’s weird and you usually feel bad that he picked you and your child when he could very well have done that for the rest of them.

-he often assures you that we’re were one night stand situations he hardly remembers after being so damn drunk.

-he’s a good dad though and a great husband. He makes sure you’re taken care of even is he’s gone a lot of the time. When you told him you were having a baby he didn’t leave from your side.

-when the baby is born he’s a bit suprised they don’t look like him but as soon as they open their eyes he’s so mf smug. Those eyes are a dead giveaways that’s his baby.

-don’t let that baby ask for something be used Mihawk will without a doubt give it to them no matter what.

-“Honey I-“

-there standing in front of the fridge, in laminated with its light are your husband and child. Their eyes wide like an owls, staring directly into your soul.

-“We wanted ice cream.”

Buggy

-he loves his babies. Hands down loves his fucking babies. Plural because of course you were blessed/cursed with triplets.

-two boys, one sweet girl, and not one of them look like their daddy, besides that faint tint of blue in their hair.

-and he’s maddddd, well. not at you but at his genes.

-“honey wait, they might just grow into it?” You encourage, trying not to laugh as he tried to figure out why his kids don’t look like him.

-thank god you were right because by time they were all 4/5 that blue had brightened and the little red glow of their noses were ever present.

-he’s so attentive with you, taking care of the three of them when you need rest or just in general cause how gorgeous wife needs rest after making three gorgeous babies

-freaks his babies out when he takes his head off

-then they won’t leave him the fuck alone about it and will often take pieces of him while he chases them around for them back.

-his babies get their own spot on the show and it fucking adorable watching toddlers dance to circus music with face paint they insisted they do themselves

-best dad buggy 100%

[st4rfckerz]

The Serpent and The Lamb | Priest!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: dddne, religious themes, infidelity, masturbation (f), oral sex (m), unprotected sex, praise, aftercare, not proofread

summary: Your family’s beloved priest suggests at home tutoring to help you with your bible studies.

The weeks since that encounter with Father Anakin had been a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you feeling conflicted and guilty. But you had promised him, and you couldn't break that trust. He continues to be your trusted priest, guiding you through your faith, but there's a new layer of understanding between you. Every touch, every whispered word, carries a heavier weight, a promise of more to come. You try to fight it, but the attraction is too strong, too consuming.

As you sit at dinner with your family, you couldn't help but think back to the last time you saw him. The memory still sent shivers down your spine, even though you knew it was wrong. You glanced around the table, watching your family enjoy their meal, before bringing your attention back to the food in front of you, forcing a smile onto your lips.

Your father cleared his throat, taking a sip from his glass of water. “So, I spoke to Father Anakin today,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “He was asking about you, sweetheart. Seems he missed your presence at church this past Sunday.”

“Oh?” you squeak trying to keep your voice casual, hoping your nerves didn't show. Last Sunday, instead of attending church as usual, you stayed home, tucked away in bed with a small cold. Your mom chimed in, recounting their brief conversation. “He asked how you were doing and expressed his concern for your well-being,” she said with a warm smile. “He truly cares for you, dear.”

“I appreciate his concern.” you replied, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Thoughts swarmed in your mind like bees to honey, questioning Anakin's motives for asking about you. Was it genuine concern? Or was there another reason behind his inquiries? A part of you couldn't help but wonder if he was as affected by your encounter as you were.

Upon hearing that you'll be attending church with them tomorrow, a pang of guilt hit you, knowing that your secret affair with Anakin was far from what God intended. You prayed silently, asking for forgiveness and guidance, seeking clarity on your path forward. Deep down, you longed for Anakin's touch again, craving the lust that had consumed you, while fearing the consequences it may bring.

The following day, you found yourself standing outside the church, heart racing in anticipation of seeing Anakin again. As you walked through the doors with your family, your eyes scanned the familiar surroundings, searching for a glimpse of his imposing figure. Anakin and his wife, Padme, approached you and your family, a serene smile playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment.

“Hello, Ma’am,” he greeted, extending a hand towards your mother. “How are you this lovely morning?” He turned to your dad next, shaking his hand firmly, the two men exchanging pleasantries while you stood nearby, trying to remain inconspicuous. Throughout their conversation, Anakin's gaze kept drifting back to you, a kind expression etched on his face that belied the intensity of their previous encounters. It was as if they were playing two different roles, one public and one private - a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

Anakin's gaze turned towards you, his eyes softening with concern. "And how is our little church mouse doing?" he asked, addressing you directly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "We missed you last week."

Your cheeks flushed pink, heart racing in response to his words, and you nervously fidgeted with the small, silver cross necklace perched on your chest. "I’m well, thank you for asking," you managed to respond, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

Anakin turned to your dad again, adding, “Now that you’re here I should mention that we’ve started providing extra guidance to some of the younger parishioners. If you ever need help with the Bible, please feel free to have them reach out to me. Our home is always open for such discussions.” Your dad nodded appreciatively and nudged your arm with his elbow.

“It might be a good idea, dear.” Your dad nodded in agreement, adding that it would allow you more time with Anakin, which would benefit you spiritually. Anakin and Padmé walked away, their conversation seemingly innocuous, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy seeing them together. However, you quickly pushed it aside, and sat with your family to listen to today's sermon. Anakin began to speak, his words resonating through the hallowed halls, reminding you of the divine presence that should guide your life.

You knelt down to pray, your mind was flooded with images of Anakin, the serpent in the garden of your faith; his touch, his voice, and the intense feelings he evoked within you. The sacred space of the church seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its silent judgment as you struggled to focus on the words of prayer. Your heart raced, your breaths became shallow, and the line between your reality and fantasy blurred, threatening to drown you in a sea of forbidden desires and hidden sins. The holy water of the baptism seemed to lose its sanctity, tainted by the impurities of your thoughts, and you swear the cross of the rosary you held onto felt just as hot as your insides, like a branding iron searing its mark onto your palm. In the quietude of the church, enveloped by the scent of incense and the whispers of penance, you found yourself drowning in the whirlpool of your own transgressions, desperately seeking salvation in the arms of the man who had led you astray.

Confession time arrived, the somber atmosphere of the church amplifying the heaviness of the act. You stood in line, heart pounding in your chest, as you waited for your turn to enter the confessional. The dimly lit booth loomed ahead. Your palms felt clammy and your hands quivered slightly, as you tried to prepare yourself for the upcoming confrontation. Each person ahead of you seemed to move in slow motion, the minutes ticking by like hours, stretching the moment into an eternity.

You finally reach the confessional booth and sit on the little bench, the partition separating you from Father Anakin feeling as thin as gossamer. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows across the wooden walls, as if mocking your impending reckoning.

“Father, it’s me.” you whisper. You could hear his soft chuckle on the other side, his soothing words resonating through the screen that served as a link between you and him.

“Oh hello little lamb, I was waiting for you,” Anakin's voice resonated through the dimly lit confessional, his tone a swirl of kindness and authority, a perfect blend that had lured you in from the very beginning. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, struggling to keep the tremors at bay. “I don’t have any confessions today.”

Anakin's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "Are you sure?" he asked gently, his tone inquiring but also cautious.

“Well, I wanted to talk about the last time I was here.” you explained. Anakin leans in more towards the screen, and his voice drops down an octave.

“We can’t talk about this here, I’m running out of time,” he said, his words carrying a warning. “Listen, tell your parents that I’m having a session tomorrow at my house and we can talk there okay?” Anakin brings his hand up to the mesh screen and you brought your own hand up to meet his. The contact, fleeting as it was, sent a jolt through you and electrified your senses.

“2:30 tomorrow little lamb. Be there.” a hint of a smile played at the corners of Anakin's lips, a silent acknowledgement of your gesture, a promise of something more that lay beyond the confines of the church.

As you approached your parents, you could feel the weight of your lie pressing down on you, the guilt threatening to consume you. You forced a smile onto your lips, your voice steady as you spoke. "Father Anakin has invited me to his home tomorrow to review the Bible and discuss some aspects of our faith," you explained, your eyes darting between your mom and dad. "He believes it would be beneficial for me spiritually." Your heart raced as you awaited their response, praying that they would accept your explanation without suspicion.

Your mom nodded, her face reflecting concern but also curiosity. "That sounds like a good opportunity, dear. Just make sure you keep us informed." Your dad, ever the protector, added, "We trust Father Anakin, but we also want you to be safe. Make sure you let us know when you arrive and when you leave, okay?" You nodded, grateful for their trust, even as you knew you were leading them down a dangerous path. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the clock ticking down the minutes until you could flee to Anakin's embrace, the illicit thrill of your secret affair coursing through your veins.

౨ৎ

Later that night, you relentlessly tossed and turned in your bed, your mind consumed by thoughts of your family’s beloved priest. His touch, his voice, his intense gaze - each memory was a sharp blade, slicing through the layers of your deception, exposing your deepest desires.

The intensity of your feelings took you by surprise, the arousal coursing through your veins like fire. The sensation of your flesh against your fingertips caused prickly goosebumps to appear all over your arms and thighs as your fingers sank into your pajama shorts. A soft moan slipped past your lips as your fingers danced around your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. your fingers delved deep inside your aching cunt, your breaths became ragged and your body trembles with force.

You struggled to stifle your sweet moans, the sound of your surrender echoing in the silence of your room. Your orgasm was sudden, powerful, washing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and spent. The intensity of your climax had left you drenched in sweat, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your transgression.You laid still and stared up at your ceiling. your body still throbbing with pleasure, you knew that the price of your sin was a heavy burden, one that only Anakin could ease - at least for a moment, in the safety of his arms.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of tomorrow, the thrill of your secret rendezvous with Anakin.

౨ৎ

Through the hushed streets, you walked towards Anakin's home, the anticipation of your secret meeting thrumming in your veins. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced along the cobblestone paths. The temptation of the forbidden fruit was too sweet to resist, the pull of Anakin's darkness too strong. The confessional's warning seemed like a distant memory, the allure of your illicit acts were like a siren's song that called to you from within the walls of his home.

After knocking a few times on the big door decorated with a plaque reading ‘Skywalkers’ the door creaks open and Anakin stands there in the threshold, his eyes locking onto yours. “There you are, I wasn’t sure you’d show,” he greeted, his voice a blend of charm and command. “Come in, come in.” He beckoned you inside.

You stepped into Anakin's home, you couldn't help but notice the opulence that surrounded you. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, the floors polished to a high shine. Your eyes roamed the room, taking in the grandeur of his sanctuary. A large stone fireplace dominated one wall, the flames crackling softly, casting a warm glow over the room. A plush sofa sat before the fire, inviting you to relax and surrender to the comfort it offered.

Anakin's voice was low and soothing as he guided you towards the plush sofa. “Please, sit down,” he urged, his eyes never leaving yours. “We have much to discuss, and I want you to feel comfortable.” As you settled onto the cushions, he took a seat beside you, his body radiating warmth. “I've taken the liberty of ensuring we are alone today. Padmé is not here to disturb us.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the implication clear. You sat down on the sofa, the soft cushions enveloping you in comfort.

“Are you ready to learn?” Anakin's question hung in the air, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a slight confusion creep in. The Bible? What happened to the real reason why you were here? You forced a smile onto your face, trying to hide your confusion. “Oh, yes,” you said, your voice steady. “I'd love to discuss the Bible with you.” Anakin's face lit up with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Excellent,” he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “Let's dive right in, then.”

Anakin opened his Bible, the leather-bound book creaking softly as he flipped through its pages. “Let us discuss the nature of our relationship with God,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “In the book of Matthew, Chapter 22, verse 37, Jesus says, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’”

He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “This is the greatest commandment, little dove. It is the foundation upon which all other relationships are built. But what does it truly mean to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sheepishly, not really knowing how to answer such a tainted question.

He closed the Bible, his gaze never leaving yours. “It means to surrender ourselves fully to Him, to trust in His will, and to obey His commands. It means to love Him more than anything else in this world, including ourselves.”

Anakin's eyes never left yours as he asked, “How do you communicate with God, little mouse? How do you express your love and devotion to Him?”

You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure of how to respond. You had always believed that prayer was the way to communicate with God, but Anakin's question made you realize that there was more to it than just speaking words. You looked down at your hands, feeling a sense of inadequacy. “I'm not sure,” you admitted. “I've always thought that prayer was the way to communicate with God, but I've never really felt like He's listening.”

Anakin's expression softened, his voice taking on a gentle tone.

“Why don’t you show me how you pray?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you obeyed, getting down on your knees before him. Your hands clasped together, your eyes closed in reverence. You began to speak, your voice a soft whisper as you poured out your heart to God. But as you prayed, you became aware of Anakin's gaze upon you. You could feel his eyes burning into your skin, his presence intense and overwhelming. Your words faltered, and you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an unreadable expression. He reached out, his hand gently brushing against your cheek. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “So beautiful.”

Anakin's thumb ran along your bottom lip, you felt a jolt of arousal shoot through your body. His touch was possessive, claiming you as his own. And when he slipped his thumb into your mouth, you felt a surge of desire wash over you. The taste of him was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but suck gently on his thumb, eager to taste more. Anakin's eyes gleamed with desire as he watched you, his thumb moving in and out of your mouth with a slow, deliberate pace. You could feel his power and control, and it only added to the thrill of the moment.

“Such a good girl.” he coos sweetly, he removes his thumb from your mouth and begins to rake his hand through your soft hair. As you gazed up at Anakin, your eyes landed on the bulge in his pants. Your heart raced with excitement as you reached out, your hand wrapping around his erection through the fabric. You could feel the heat emanating from him, and your palm began to move in slow, deliberate strokes.

“Can I help you Father?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He nodded slowly, his voice low and gravelly as he spoke. “Yes, please.”

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you unclasped the metal buckle and pulled it through the loops. The belt fell to the ground with a soft thud.

The moment he released his hard cock from the confines of his boxers, it sprang free, standing tall in front of you. Your eyes locked onto it, your mouth watering.

“Do you know what you’re doing angel?” he asks cautiously. His pupils were completely blown, making his eyes seem dark and intimidating.

“I know enough.” you give him a shy smile.

Anakin's fingers tightened in your hair, urging you forward. You leaned in, your lips brushing against the head of his cock, before you took him into your mouth. Anakin's breath hitched, his hand gripping your head as you began to suck on him, your tongue swirling around his shaft with a slow, unhurried pace.

“You're doing so well, sweetheart.” He purrs, his hand stroked your hair, a soft caress that sent shivers down your spine. “You're a natural at this. I knew I could trust you.” Anakin's hips began to buck, his thrusts both desperate and controlled. He groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. He quickly reached his peak, his hot seed spilling into your mouth.

“Swallow every drop, show me how devoted you are.” You swallowed eagerly, pleased to have brought him such satisfaction. As he pulled out of your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps, you looked up at him, adoration shining in your eyes.

Anakin pulled you in for a deep, carnal kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he devoured you. The taste of him still lingered on your lips. Then he lifts you up, takes off your panties, and places you on his lap with your body curled up against his. He ran his fingers along your wet folds, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

As you sat on Anakin's lap, you realized that this was the first time you had kissed him, your lips having only tasted him in another way. But in that moment, the line between the sacred and the profane blurred, the kiss a fusion of affection and the lingering taste of your sin.

The kiss broke and you looked deep into Anakin's eyes, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you Anakin.” you admitted boldly.

Anakin's beamed excitedly. “I want to see you do it this time, okay?” You hesitated, feeling a little shy, but Anakin's commanding gaze urged you on. “Don't be afraid, little lamb.” he reassured you, his voice a seductive growl. His words were a comfort, a balm for the guilt that nibbled at the edges of your conscience. You bit your lip, your confidence growing. You leaned forward, positioning yourself over his erection. Taking a deep breath, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his size and girth filling you. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you, the sensation both thrilling and overwhelming. He began to move in rhythm, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one driving deeper into you.

You looked into his eyes, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. “There you go, you got it.” Anakin says breathlessly.

You and Anakin found a steady rhythm, your movements synchronized. You rode him with a newfound confidence, your body moving in a way that seemed both foreign and exhilarating.

Anakin's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, a silent claim of ownership. “That’s my girl, taking cock like she was made for it.” he encouraged, his voice a low, commanding growl. “My big, strong girl.”

Your moans grew louder, your body responding to his words. You could feel the tension building within you, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin,” you gasped, your voice tinged with desperation. “I n-need,”

He smiled, his eyes shimmering with a predatory intent. “What do you need, angel?” he asked, his voice a wicked whisper.

“Make me cum, please.” you panted, your body trembling with need.

“I got you sweet girl, let me hear you.” he ordered, his voice a low, commanding growl. You felt your body surrendering to your orgasm, the waves of ecstasy washing over you. You cried out his name as you came, your body shaking in his arms.

As you clung to him, your body still trembling, Anakin followed closely behind, his own release spilling into you. He groaned your name, his body shuddering as he found his own climax.

You collapsed onto his chest, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, Anakin wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I didn’t break you did I?” Anakin asks playfully as he runs his hands up and down your back.

“No, I’m fine.” you chuckle. Anakin's hands gently urged you to sit up on the couch cushion next to him, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Stay here one second.” he instructed, his voice a soft rumble. You remained in the living room while Anakin made his way to the bathroom, his body taut and powerful as he moved. You watched as he returned, a washcloth in hand, the steam from the warm water still clinging to the fabric. He approached you, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness.

“Lie back, angel,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble. “Let me take care of you.” Anakin knelt down in front of you, his hands gently wiping away the evidence of your sins. His movements were both tender and deliberate as he cleaned you up, his fingers tracing over your skin, lingering in places where he knew he could elicit a reaction. As he worked, his lips trailed kisses down your calf and along your inner thighs.

Once Anakin was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you put your panties back on, his hands lingering on your hips before withdrawing. “There, all clean now.” he murmured, his voice gentle as he smoothed down your skirt. He leans forward, his arms wrapping around you, his lips claiming yours in a tender kiss.

As you and Anakin shared a tender kiss, you heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock. You both froze, your hearts racing as the door slowly creaked open. Anakin quickly released you, his face a mask of calm as he turned to face whoever had entered the room. Padmé walked in, her smile bright and welcoming. She was completely oblivious to what had just taken place in the living room.

“Padme, honey,” he greeted her, his voice smooth and untroubled. “Did you have a nice day?”

Padme’s gaze shifted to you, her smile growing even wider. “Lovely to see you again,” she said, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “I trust the lesson was enlightening?”

You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to regain your composure. “Yes, Padme, it was.” you answered, relief washing over you as the normalcy of the situation returned.

After a brief conversation, you excused yourself, claiming that you needed to head home. Anakin walked you to the door, his hand brushing against yours as he opened it for you. “See you soon, little lamb.” he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with promise. You gave him a small smile, your mind still reeling from the events that had just transpired.

As you left the house, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The thrill of your transgression still coursed through your veins, mingling with the lingering guilt. But through it all, you couldn't deny the connection you had formed with Anakin. You walked home and the world around you seemed to blur, your thoughts filled with the forbidden pleasures you had just experienced. You knew that you had crossed a line, one that would have far-reaching consequences.

But for now, all that mattered was the promise of more sinful delights to come, the weight of your sins growing heavier with each passing moment. You had given yourself to Anakin, both body and soul, and there was no turning back now.

[yup-thats-me]

"let's see kids who can hug mamma the first!" Your husband told or rather commanded your twin boys as the three came back from their grocery run.

Your two sons giggled as they ran towards the house and the thirty-something-old kid (your husband) too ran with them. The only visible difference being was that he was taller and was carrying three to four bags with him. He, same as his kids, had that stupid little smile on his face.

When the door barged in and her kids ran to your side, Y/n couldn't help the smile that made its way to her lips. Putting down the cup of coffee she was holding, she stumbled back a little by the force as the two little humans hugged their mother like their lives depended on it.

Smiling, Y/n was caressing her two boys lovingly. What she did not expect was to see her husband as well to join in on the group hug and forcibly make his way into the middle making the kids grumble in dissatisfaction.

"That's not fair, dad! we came first!" Your kids whined.

The man gave them a smug grin. "You think? You little seaweeds wouldn't be here if I did not come first, you know." He blew raspberries at the kids. "Also, did you not know your mother loves me the best?"

His comment earned him a smack on the head from his beloved wife. The man held his head in feigned hurt and looked at Y/n like she just betrayed him in the worst ways.

The boys laughed at their father but were quick to ask, "Do you really love Dad more than us, mama?"

Smiling she pecked the two on their cheek, and her husband too to make him stop pouting. "Well...it may be partially true."

It was the kids turn to look betrayed. "But mom!"

Y/n giggled. "I do love you boys. I love you two so much. How can I not when you are literally a part of me? I love you two." She caressed their cheek.

"But as much as it's true that you two are a part of me," she continued, "I wouldn't be able to have you with just myself. It is thanks to your father that I am given such a beautiful gift." she smiled, her eyes shining with a sadness that is not melancholic. It was the realization that her kids would someday leave her. Of course they would, they are bound to. And when they do, she'd be thankful to her husband who stayed.

Her husband smiled at her and gave his kids a nod. Upon the command, the three hugged Y/n out of the blue and greeted, "Happy mother's day momma!"

Y/n was brought back to the present, she smiled, a few tears pricking her eyes. "Thank you, boys," she kissed their cheek. "We have brought you some food as well! We'll go bring it!" The two got up and ran to the kitchen to bring whatever they brought as a gift for their mother.

In the meantime, Y/n's husband snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her close. "Thank you, baby, for being the mother of my children. Really, thank you." And this time, her husband was speaking from the bottom of his heart

[caffeineforbucky]

Cruel Summer

Summary: After a two-year absence from your family, you return home for your father's birthday and unexpectedly reconnect with his friend, John Price. A serendipitous attraction emerges, leading to a challenging summer.

Pair: 'Captain' DBF!John Price x AFAB!Reader

WC: 2,008

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+, Age gap. Reader is 26 and John is 37, swearing, longing, some fluff...? Lemme know if I missed any

A/N: I fear it's been a minute since I wrote anything for this blog. This fic might be a few parts. It's been sitting in my drafts for freaking months and I was too excited to get the first part out.

BY CLICKING KEEP READING, YOU ARE CONFIRMING THAT YOU'RE 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Come on, honey," Your mother's voice resonates in the emptiness of your small kitchen, and the sting in your eyes makes it hard to focus, vision blurring with a haze of murkiness.

With the heel of your palm, you brush away the lamentation on your lashes, heedless in your movements, as you shove a couple of hoodies, books, and other insignificant items into a box—a box of your ex's things. The things he left behind.

"Your dad hasn't seen you in two years. His birthday is coming up in a couple of days, and the only thing he talks about missing his little girl."

That manages to make you smile, if only for a moment. A fleeting glimpse of happiness amidst your heartbreak. "Ryder's there. Dad can have his little boy there instead."

Ryder—your older brother. He was only five years older than you, but while growing up together, you two were inseparable. There was the occasional bickering and fighting, but like all siblings, you grew apart.

He had his life, and you had yours.

"I can hear your dumbass, you know that, don't you?" He tuts through the speaker of your cell phone, and it causes you to snort. He was already with the rest of your family since flying in the night before. Ryder's remark is met with hushes from your mom before she playfully shoves him to continue the phone call with you. Just like old times.

"I don't know, ma..." You mumble, trying your bestest to make it sound like you aren't crying. You knew she worried about you. More than you would've liked, but she was your mother. My job is to worry. She would say. "I've got a lot going on over here and—"

She cuts you off before you can finish.

"Please? I will have to tell your dad when he asks, and he'll start crying and... just come. Even if it's for a day or two. He really wants to see you, and so do I. I miss my baby."

A heavy sigh escapes you, letting your face fall into your palms to wipe the rest of your tears with the tips of your fingers. As badly as you want to refuse, the guilt of not seeing your family in so long starts to creep in, trying to gnaw its way into your conscience.

"Okay, Mom," You finally relent after a couple minutes of silence. You knew how much your parents missed you, and you'd let the lust for independence take you away from the people you loved most, and that was something to feel guilty about. "I'll come."

Your mother's excited squeal makes you flinch, and for some reason, her felicity causes a few more tears to slip down your cheeks, even if you manage a soft chuckle. "Oh, I'm so excited. Your dad is going to flip. I gotta make up your room and—Ryder! I'll talk to you soon, baby. We can't wait to see you."

There were a plethora of responsibilities John had to fulfill when he agreed to attend his best friend’s birthday. He had a job; a task force to forefront. A war to conquer. Nevertheless, he was here, in the backyard of said friends' beach house.

He was used to noise. The bustling crowds of civilians, obnoxious music, and the occasional yelps of children chasing each other around. It all resonated as white noise; his ears filtering out what wasn’t of import.

The smell of grilled hamburger patties permeated the air, his eyes focused on the finesse of each flip.

The tap of his fingers drummed rhythmically against the neck of his beer bottle, smiling and nodding as your father went on and on about his endeavors during his time in the Army.

A broken record; really. The stories weren’t new, at least, not to him—having been a part of those tales himself. The hardships and challenges of having to partake in such horrific adventures. If you can even call them that. Your father had such a colorful vernacular.

John’s eyes looked up in a lazy sweep as he heard the sound of your mother’s voice emitting as the back door slid open. As he took another swig of his beer, there you were.

The man almost choked. The beer comes back up in a fit of coughs, earning a few swats on the back from your father.

“You okay, John?” Your father eyed him humorously, chuckling as he flipped a couple more burgers.

John couldn’t speak, solely nodding as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, mindful of drying off his facial hair.

Fucking hell…

Clad in a cream-colored sundress, every dip and curve of your body was accentuated, the swell of your assets making his mouth water. You were an absolute dream. A fantasy he couldn’t imagine ever thinking of. You were stunning.

He let his eyes trace the outline of your body, from the cherry pattern on your dress to the pretty little red ballet flats you had on.

John had prided himself in being devout to his career. Nothing came between him or it. In his thirty-seven years of being alive, he never once tried to settle down or even dabble in a relationship for fear of never giving enough or never being present. He’d have the occasional fuck, but that was once in a while.

His life wasn’t promised; not in the way he had any control over. Then again, who does?

For the first time since joining the Army, he thought of marriage, and he immediately shook that thought away.

He nudged your father, making him turn toward the profile of his face. With his hand still wrapped around the neck of the bottle, he gestured towards you. “Is that—“

“Ah, there she is!” Your father rejoiced, setting down the spatula as you headed towards where they both stood, your mother trailing behind. John stood idle as he watched you move into your dad’s arms with a semi-forced smile.

“Hey, Dad.” You greet him, letting him rock you back and forth in a tight embrace. “Happy birthday.” Regardless if you’d arrived the day before, your dad was still excited that you were here.

"Thank you, pumpkin."

John watched the interaction from the corner of his eye, a strange feeling tugging at his gut. You were no longer that little girl he remembered—you were a woman now. He took another swig of his beer, curiosity and desire brewing within him.

Once your father had released you from his bear hug, your eyes met with John's. A surprised expression graced your face, recognition flashing across your eyes as if you had completely forgotten that he could also be there. "John?" You questioned, your voice softer than he remembered. 'That you?" There was a hint of a tremble, but it was quickly masked by a polite smile.

"Hey there, sweetheart." He greeted, his voice firm yet gentle. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over you once more, drinking in the sight of you. It was almost as if he was seeing you for the first time. "Aye. It's me."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief. "I can't believe it's been fifteen years. You haven't changed much, you know."

John couldn't help but chuckle at your comment, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through him. Fifteen years…

You had to be around twenty-six now.

"I would say the same about you, but—" he replied, letting his gaze linger on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You've grown up beautifully."

The compliment seemed to take you by surprise, your cheeks flushing a soft tinge. You quickly turned your gaze away from him, focusing on your father who was grilling the patties. "Thanks, John." You muttered, the unease in your voice not going unnoticed by him. Neither did that color on your cheeks.

You could recall the little girl crush you used to have on him all those years ago, when it was adolescent, innocent, and pure. Something to laugh off because it was cute.

But now, standing here as an adult, the feelings that stirred within you when John's gaze lingered on you were anything but innocent. It was a confusing, frightening, yet somehow thrilling realization—one that you knew you would have to confront sooner or later.

Your mother, who had been watching the entire exchange with the sharp eyes of a hawk, nudged you gently, whispering something about helping her out in the kitchen. You took the opportunity to escape, excusing yourself from the men's company. As you turned to leave, you felt John's eyes on you, following your retreating figure. A shiver ran down your spine, but you forced yourself to ignore it.

After you'd left, an awkward silence fell between the two men. John took another swig of his beer, trying to shake off the strange feelings that your presence had stirred up within him. The tension was palpable, a thick fog of unspoken words and hidden desires. It wasn't like him to be so affected, and yet, there was something about you that left him in a state of bewilderment.

His gaze lingered on the spot where you had stood moments ago, the image of your flushed cheeks and the softness of your voice etched into his mind. He raked a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips. This was dangerous territory. He knew it but seemed powerless to pull himself away from the allure.

Your father, completely oblivious to his friend's internal struggle, continued flipping burgers, a contented smile on his face. He hummed a tune under his breath, his eyes bright with happiness. Every now and then, he would glance towards the kitchen door, awaiting your return.

"John," He started, his voice pulling John out of his reverie. "You've gone quiet on me, mate." Your father’s jovial tone contrasted starkly with the turmoil raging within John.

John managed a weak smile, forcing out a chuckle. "Just lost in thought, I guess," he replied, not meeting your father's gaze. He took another sip of his beer, the cold liquid doing little to ease the heat creeping up his neck.

Your father simply laughed, shaking his head. "You've always been a bit of a daydreamer, haven't you?" He said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just don't go getting lost in your thoughts. We've got a party to enjoy."

John nodded, forcing himself to focus on the present, on the sizzle of the burgers, the sound of laughter from the crowd...anything but his best friend's daughter. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts were preoccupied with you.

As the sun began to set, the party continued in full swing. The laughter and chatter grew louder, the music more upbeat, and the atmosphere more festive. But amidst the sea of faces, John's gaze kept drifting back to you.

Your laughter echoed in his ears, your smile imprinted in his memory. Every now and then, he would catch glimpses of you, your silhouette illuminated by the setting sun, your face glowing with genuine happiness. You were like a beacon of light, drawing him in, and he found himself unable to resist.

You were everywhere he looked, in every corner he turned. With each passing moment, the pull he felt towards you grew stronger, more potent. It was like a magnetic force that seemed impossible to resist. It scared him, baffled him, yet excited him in a way he had never experienced before.

He watched as you interacted with the guests, your laughter filling the air. Your eyes sparkled with mirth, your cheeks flushed with excitement. You were the life of the party, and he couldn't help but be captivated by you.

And as he watched you in the warm candlelight of your father's birthday cake, your smile wide as you sang along with your family, he knew he was in trouble. Because for the first time in a long time, he found himself wanting something he knew he couldn't have.

You.

Oh god. It's so embarrassing how long this took to actually write. Please please lemme know what ya'll think. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Should I continue this? ;) Enjoyxx

[tomicscomics]

05/13/2024

A suffocating childhood?!

___

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. The Source: This cartoon is based on a question St. Joan received during her trial. Before I explain it, here's the story from the original manuscript (translated by W. S. Scott): "Questioned concerning her father's dreams, she replied that when she was still with her father and mother, she was often told by her mother that her father had said that he dreamed his daughter Jeanne would go off with the soldiers; and that her mother and father took great care to keep her safely; that they were very strict with her; and that she was always obedient to them save in the incident at Toul, the action for [breach of promise of] marriage. She said further that she had heard her mother say that her father had said to her brothers: If I thought that such a thing could happen as I have dreamed, I should want you to drown her; and if you did not, I would drown her myself. And that she greatly feared that they would lose their minds when she left to go to Vaucouleurs. Asked if his thoughts and dreams had come to her father after she had her visions, she replied: Yes, more than two years after she first heard the voices." 2. Summary: In short, Joan's judges have heard that her father had prophetic dreams about her leaving home. She tells them what she knows based on what her mother told her, including that her father would prefer to have her drowned than let her go off with the army as he dreamed. 3. Location Change: For those wondering, after the 6th session of Joan's questioning, some of her assessors became too busy to consistently attend sessions, so Bishop Cauchon decreed they'd hold future sessions in her cell to make things easier. 4. The Name "Tart": First off, Jacques' last name was spelled a lot of different ways in old French (Darc, Dars, Dart, Darx, Tart, Day, and probably more). Joan didn't actually use his last name, because in her village, girls took their mother's last name, but we assign it to her nowadays anyway. In modern French, Jacques' surname is spelled d'Arc (the apostrophe is a late addition). However, when brought into English, translators assumed the d-[apostrophe] meant "of" like most names with that prefix, so Jeanne d'Arc became Joan of Arc, despite there not being a place called Arc for her to be of. In this cartoon, I used the spelling "Tart" for Jacques' surname, because W. S. Scott determined it to be the most authentic form of the patronymic, according to his sources. Also, it allowed me to make the joke in Panel 3, "I'm off to become a REAL tart!" Jacques is dreaming that Joan will run off to become a prostitute, and in addition to "Tart" being his surname, "tart" is also an old word for prostitute. 5. The Dream: Jacques shares a bit in common with St. Joseph, as both are hard-working men from simple towns, and both experience important dreams about their miracle children. However, while St. Joseph understands and responds to his dream with a generous yes, Jacques doesn't fully understand his dream and tries to prevent it from coming true. Back then, some women would follow armies around so they could prostitute themselves when the soldiers made camp. Many authors believe that Jacques' feared this would be Joan's fate, and that he never suspected that her true fate was to become a general of war. He told his sons he would prefer her to be drowned than for his dream to come true, probably meaning that he'd rather she die than lose her soul in the sinful life he thought he foresaw.

[berberriescorner]

How would rio and y/n react if marcus brings a girl home?

Okay, so my imagination ran wild with this one. It's a bit lengthy, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it nonetheless. I’m glad to finally have gotten a bit of a creative spark. Hopefully, I’m not rusty. Please excuse any grammatical errors. This isn't heavily edited and I went with the flow. It would be greatly appreciated if you all love, comment, and reblog. Please understand (I know some get tired of hearing it but it’s important) that writing fanfiction takes time and dedication. Then there is the fact that it’s free. Tapping the love button is cool, but it’s the reblogs that help writers. Try to keep that in mind 💓.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: A bit of fluff, laughter, and a little *cough, a hefty piece of* spice.

The aroma of garlic wafted through your newly renovated kitchen. It had been an early Mother's Day present from Rio and the babies. Your husband swaggered into the kitchen fresh out of the shower. He watched you stir the pasta and smiled as you made a mental note aloud to add more cream cheese. The deep timbre of your husband's voice startled you.

“Stay put mama. I'll grab some for you,” he rasped, lips brushing the side of your neck. His hand left a gentle squeeze on your hip.

“Damn it, Chris. Baby, I told you to stop sneaking up on me like that. I should've known your stealthy, fine ass was nearby. The scent of your cologne and body wash should've given you away.”

He stepped back over to the stove adding cheese. You shivered as his fingers danced up your spine, curling around to the front of you. You hummed as his hand lightly cupped your throat. As if your body knew exactly what he wanted, you tilted your head, angling it so he could gain access. Rio’s lips trailed light kisses up your neck, across the jawline.

“Food smells good, darling. When we eatin’?”

You chuckled, slapping at his hand as his finger dipped into the alfredo sauce.

“Boy! Get your fingers out of my pan.”

“Damn, ma! I can't get a little taste. Come on, mama. Daddy’s hungry,” he groaned.

“That's on you. Shouldn't have skipped lunch.”

Rio kissed his teeth, swatting your bottom playfully.

“You know I was handling business, sweetheart. Don't start,” he teased.

“Let that have been me not eating. You would've jumped in my shit.”

His head shook in disagreement, “Mm no. I would've just brought you some food and insisted you eat.”

“Last time I brought you lunch it turned into an argument.”

“Cause you don't listen. You know you weren't supposed to be anywhere near that warehouse. It was a matter of safety. Where that's concerned, you'll always come first, mama.”

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes at the sweet sentiment.

“Whatever, bossy ass. We’ll eat once the oldest baby boy gets here.”

“That's right it's our weekend,” he perked up.

Though there were times Rio wished he could see his son every day. He knew that Marcus was both his and Rhea’s pride and joy. Rio was thankful that they had a healthy co-parenting relationship. Joint custody had always been smooth with Rhea. She'd never dream of ever keeping their son away from his father. He was grateful that they both managed to move on. They both found love again, remarried, and everyone seemed to get along just fine. Rio loved that you and Rhea found friendship in one another. Your kids adored Rhea just as much as Marcus did you.

“Oh, you thought I was making this fire-ass pasta for you? Nope, Zaddy this for my oldest baby boy,” you teased Rio playfully.

“That’s fine! So long as I get to choose my dessert,” he rasped, his eyes scanning over your body.

Your eyes met, both nibbling at your bottom lip. Just as you were about to dive deeper into the topic, Alexa announced someone was at the front door. You tapped your phone screen, turning on the ring doorbell’s mic.

“Rhea, stop acting like you don’t have a key. Bring your beautiful self into this house.”

You smiled as she giggled her way through the front door.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Rio called out.

“Boy! Stop all that yelling. You wake that baby up and it’s your ass.”

Your husband kissed his teeth, “last I checked this was our house,” he mumbled, walking over to Marcus and pulling him into a bear hug. “What’s up, man?”

Marcus answered his question, immediately following with, “Can I go check on the baby? Where’s everybody else?”

“Rudeness. Are you forgetting something,” Rhea questioned her eager teenager.

She chuckled as he looked at her in confusion as she continued, “Your bonus mama is burning in this kitchen. Probably for you. Did you say hello? Or maybe thank you? Where is her loving,” Rhea jokingly scolded her son.

“Sorry, ma. He replied shyly, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. “Thank you for cooking my favorite food.”

“It’s cool handsome,” you started, pinching his cheek. “The kids are in the theater room and the baby is down for the night, but go on up and steal a little sugar.”

Just as he was about to excuse himself, Rhea interrupted him, “Not so fast young man. You’re not slick. Don’t you want to share the news?”

“Mami,” Marcus whined.

“That’s okay, I'll tell them. Go on, scaredy cat.”

Marcus made his escape as Rhea turned back to you and Rio. She bypassed him, linking her arm with yours.

“Come, chica. I’ve got some chisme for you.”

Your husband, the big baby he is, groaned, “Nice to see you too, Rhea. Why am I not included?”

“Are you not in the room? You are included, fool,” Rhea teased.

“Chris, baby. I love you, but hush. I'm trying to see some.”

Both women laughed at him as he rolled his eyes and went silent.

“ Marcus sat down with us sometime last week. Said he wanted to invite his lady friend over for dinner. Our baby has a girlfriend, sis.”

The two of you stared at one another, several seconds passed. As if he was expecting it, Rio sighed, running his hand down his face as the two of you started squealing like school girls.”

“Mama, Rhea, the baby,” he reminded the both of you.

You both clapped a hand over your mouths, silently giggling.

“What's her name? Have you met her? The parents?”

“Baby, chill,” Rio chuckled.

You looked at him, studying him for a moment. Head tilted, you questioned, “You already knew. Didn't you?”

He smirked, “You already know the answer to that, mama. You know I stay ten steps ahead.”

“He told you first,” Rhea questioned.

“Listen, he asked for advice on girls a while back. I suspected then he had his eye on somebody. I played it cool. If you ask too many questions, he’ll shut down. We had the talk. About a week after that. Marcus told me he was talking to someone.”

“The talk,” you and Rhea said in unison. “Should we be worried about where this is going?”

“Ladies relax. It's better to have it early. Just to be on the safe side.”

“You gave him condoms. Didn't you,” Rhea snarked.

“Are you ready to be a grandmother? I mean I’d be the coldest abuelo out here, but let's try to prevent that from happening.”

“He brought her home for dinner the other day. She's so sweet and shy. Her name is Isabella, but she goes by Isa. He's got his papi’s taste. She's Afrolatina, a beautiful young lady!”

“Okay! I see my boy! He found him a woman who embodies two of the most important women in his life,” Rio praised with pride.

“The mom seems to be well-rounded. Surely we don't have anything to worry about,” Rhea insisted.

“The both of you were sweet and shy when I first met you. Need I say more? Then there's those stories your mom told me about your teenage years,” he smirked toward you.

“Sneak one damn boy through your window and you never live it down. Kiss my ass, Christoper,” you cackled, flipping him the bird.

Rio puckered his lips, bending down, laughing as you mugged his forehead.

“Sis! Your ass was hot back in the day, huh?”

“Chill on my wife. Tell me, how old were you when we had Marcus?”

Rhea kissed her teeth, “He got a response for everything, huh,” she asked you. “Anyway! He wants you all to meet her. Can he invite her over for dinner tomorrow?”

Rio smiled at you bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“I take it our answer is yes, mama?”

After a stressful Saturday afternoon, Rio stepped into the foyer of his home. His eyes drifted shut for a moment as he welcomed the delicious smell of lemon herbs, and the smell of your perfume wafted through the air. Sandals tapped across the wooden floor, Rio’s lashes fluttered open, dancing at the sight of you meeting him at the front door.

“Hey Papa,” you started, smile faltering. You could sense the heaviness of his day. “Long day, baby,” you questioned.

His head tilted to the side, an appreciative smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rio’s hands cupped your side pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his head in your neck. Breathing you in again, his lips tickled the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Shit was hectic, but I’m sure some kisses would make me feel better,” he whispered in a sultry tone.

Your hands brushed against his chest, as you tip-toed to reach his lips. He chuckled at your struggle to reach his lips, meeting you the rest of the way. Your lips danced together in soft, slow strokes. The sound of footsteps speeding down the steps interrupted the lip lock.

“Ma! Pops! You’re not going to be doing all that in front of Isa, are you? Why’s it so quiet around here?”

You giggled as Rio reared his head back. “I’m sorry son, I didn’t know you paid bills around here. Y’all be forgetting this my house…our house,” he corrected when you lightly cleared your throat.

“Your siblings can be a lot. We wanted to have time to focus on getting to know your girlfriend. I managed to arrange a night with Nana. They’ll be back tomorrow. She can meet everybody next time we have her over. Don’t worry, baby. Papi and I promise to be on our best behavior,” you teased Marcus.

“I ain’t promising nothin’. Listen, I’ll kiss my wife all I want, bro. Don’t be mad I’m the only one getting kisses around here,” he joked, giving Marcus a playful shove.”

“Pops, chill on me. Who said I ain’t got it like that?”

Rio cackled, dapping Marcus up. The laughter between the two stopped abruptly when they saw you standing straight-faced, head tilted, and arms crossed.

“I’m pretty sure I can speak for your mother when I say this. You better be acting accordingly with that young lady. Nothing short of being respectful is acceptable. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your eyes landed on Rio, “Then I got you over here gassing him up.”

“My bad, mama. We’ll tighten up.”

“That’s what I thought,” you finished sauntering off to the kitchen.

 Rio turned back to Marcus and they both dapped each other up silently.

“It’s like that, son?”

“I learned from the best,” Marcus responded.

“My boy. Seriously though, not too much. Take things slowly. You have a lot of life to live. Don’t let thinking you're grown get you in trouble. You bring a baby home, and that’s ya ass. Papi can’t save you from the mama squad. If you can’t wait, do at least three things for me. Wrap it up, don’t do it in mine or your mom’s house, and don’t play with her feelings. You better plan on sticking around. Don’t be that guy, son. We’ve raised you better than that.”

“Yessir, I give you my word, pops.”

Rio embraced Marcus and gave his shoulders a firm squeeze as they pulled apart.

“You nervous,” Rio asked as the doorbell sounded.

“Just promise me you won’t let Ma pull out the photo albums.”

“Listen, I’m a man of many talents, but telling that woman not to do something almost always has the opposite effect. Ma listens when it counts,” he smirked, biting his lip.

“That’s information I honestly didn’t need to know, Dad.”

The first twenty minutes had been hilarious. You, Isa, and her mother all silently laughed at the way Isa’s father stumbled over his words while making introductions with Rio.

Apparently Marcus nor his girlfriend had taken the liberty of giving the poor man a heads up. He had suspected that he was going to assert himself as an overprotective father. One look at Marcus’ father and his bravado and puffed-out chest had deflated. Christopher wasn’t about to be checked by anyone and little did they know, neither were you. 

Dinner had gone by smoothly. The two of you succeeded in not embarrassing your son, as did her parents. Isa was a sweet, shy, and intelligent girl. You both loved her for Marcus. The teens had asked permission to have a movie night in the family theatre room. All parents agreed that it would be okay so long as it wasn’t unattended. You had even offered for Isa’s parents to join. Her father needed to finish up some work at home, and Rio along with Marcus, offered to drop her home in a few hours. 

As the parents you opted, to sit in the back row of home theatre seats to give them some sort of privacy. You didn’t want to crowd them too much. That and you knew with certainty that Rio was going to get handsy as soon as the lights dimmed. Twenty minutes of screen time had barely passed before his hand started a soft, tingling trail up your thigh. You allowed his fingers to make it inches away from the place he desired before swatting at him. His heated gaze met yours and the left corner of his mouth tilted up as he mouthed the word, “Why?”

Your head cocked to the side as you looked at him as if he were crazy. You sucked your teeth, pointing a finger in the direction of the kids. Rio wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to whisper in your ear, “Oh you really thought I was cold. You know why I pulled this blanket out, mama.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, shoving him away from you. 

“Do that again and I’m sitting in my own lounger,” you sassed.

“All this space and you want to sit by yourself. Don’t be like that, mama.”

You had glanced in the direction of the children to see if they had overheard, but froze as you saw their hands inching closer to one another. Your hand tapped the top of Rio’s repetitively to get him to look. The two of you shared a smile at the innocence of the situation. Marcus looked back as the two of you tried to focus your attention elsewhere. The teen shook his head as his hand shifted away some. The two of you kissed your teeth and the sound echoed off the theatre walls as Marcus shook his head and Isa giggled.

It felt as if you had ruined the moment, and Rio attempted to correct the situation. Clearing his throat he asked the room, “Anybody want chips? Popcorn? Something to drink?”

You caught on and joined in, “I could go for some ice water and we can share a snack babe. Let’s go round up some refreshments.”

The kids had started to decline, but the two of you left in a hurry.

Rio propped himself against the kitchen island with his hands clasped. You crept towards your husband smirking. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you asked, “How much time should we give them to be unsupervised?”

“That depends, mama. Are you trying to be a responsible parent or a laid-back one? Responsible would be in the realm of maybe five or ten minutes. Laidback–about twenty or so.”

Rio’s hands traveled the length of your back, down to your plush backside. With a gentle squeeze, he continued, “I’m leaning towards laidback, mama,” he rasped. “Maybe we can take that time alone to–connect ourselves.”

“You truly have a one-track mind. We are not about to do anything with a guest in the house. Do you know what teenagers can do in twenty or so minutes?”

“Mama, what’s the most that could happen?”

“Our last child happened in twenty minutes, Rio.”

“We were pressed for time, and I was down bad for you that night, mama.”

“You’re always down bad for me. Even at this moment, you are.”

“No lies told. If you know that, stop playing. C’mere, mama.”

Rio nibbled at your neck, even as you continued to protest, “Rio, seriously. We should head back soon.”

“C’mon, mama. Let that boy cook for a few minutes. I told him to take things slow and to never do anything like that under his mom’s or our roof.”

“Oh, and you think that’s gon’ stop him?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is coming from the man, that was giving me backshots under his grandmother’s roof last Christmas.”

“We’re married with a ton of children. Trust and believe, she knows you’re getting handed pipe left and right, mama.”

“You get on my damn nerves. Always got a response–.”

The sentence came to a halt as Rio’s hand slipped into the opening of your dress, tugging a nipple through the silk material of your bra.

“F-fuck, Rio, don’t.”

His lips hovered over yours. The minty freshness of his breath fanning across your bottom lip. He nipped at it before asking, “You really want me to stop, mama?”

“Pantry, now.”

With those two words, Rio picked you up, legs wrapping around his waist, as he carried you to the destination. The door softly clicked closed, as he pressed you against some of the shelving. Your lips collided, tongues stroking one another, battling for dominance. The hem of your dress shifted upward, bunching at your waist. Rio groaned as his tented dark wash jeans ground against your damp panties. A moan slipped from your lips and he shushed you.

“Gotta keep quiet baby,” he whispered as his lips moved to suck at your throat.

His lips continued to nip and suck at your flesh. His long muscular fingers tugged your panties to the side as two fingers massaged your folds before gliding in to slowly stretch you out. The delicious feeling turned you into a whimpering mess as your hips began to rock against his movements.

“Yeah, just like that, mama. Are you gonna be my good girl and come all over my fingers? Yeah, you are. Aren’t you?”

He leaned in, tucking into the side of your neck, and whispered, “Bite down on my shoulder if you need to, darling.”

One of your hands slipped under his shirt as your nails scratched at his skin. You leaned back and pleaded, “Choke me, Daddy. Keep me quiet.”

The minute his hand wrapped around your throat, Rio added a third finger, thrusting in quick, deep strokes. His lips pecked your lips as he groaned, “Come for me, mama. Make a mess all over my fingers.”

All you needed was one last stroke to send you over the edge, but everything came to a halt as you both heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen. The two of you broke apart, fixing your clothes at the speed of lightning. The moment the knob to the pantry door turned, Rio snatched it open, pulling it closed with a bag of chips and a case of soda under his arm.

Marcus eyed his father suspiciously before speaking, “Isa got thirsty and you two were taking forever. So I came to get her some fruit snacks and a soda.”

Rio handed him a soda and explained, “We were coming back. Your pops negotiated a little alone time for ya. Did anything interesting happen?”

Marcus blushed a bit and responded, “Pops, can’t we talk about this later? I don’t want to keep Isa waiting.”

“You right man. Here take this soda and I’ll bring the fruit snacks and the rest of the stuff. Ma and I will be right in. She had to take care of something right quick.”

“Alright, Pops. Thanks.”

Marcus made it a few steps out of the kitchen before ducking his head back around the corner. Rio had started to turn back toward the pantry as he spoke up, “Pops? Tell Ma she can come out of the pantry now. Next time aim for a place that doesn’t house the food we eat.”

“Yeah, okay, wiseass. You’ll understand when you get older and have your own meddlesome ass kids. Take your lady her beverage and mind your business. You just couldn’t let your daddy cook in peace. Could you son?”

You were mortified and could barely look your bonus son in the eye for days.

Tagging some of my lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114

@amorestevens @bisexuallyattractivebitch @1andonlytashae

@rio-reid-whoreee @lovedlover @astoldbychae @percosim

@ravennaortiz @sunshine-flower @novaniskye @alertyoulikeitsamber @realhotgurlshit @abcdestinyyyy @jannavaire

[justmeinadaze]

Hi! I’m 23 but requesting anonymously because this is a similar situation I experienced and wished someone would have been there for me.

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a Steddie x reader story where the reader recently lost her grandma who she lived with in a two bedroom apartment. It’s left the reader financially strapped and she posts an ad for a roommate. Steve and Eddie are looking for a place and sees the ad. Steve is a nurse and Eddie is a mechanic or masseuse (two extremes but I feel like Eddie is always a mechanic lol).

The reader is really withdrawn and struggling with grief because her grandma was all she had. She is working two jobs and not taking care of herself. She wears herself out and gets sick. She’s really resistant to letting anyone take care of her. And she doesn’t talk to Steve and Eddie much because she’s trying to hide her struggles and doesn’t want to bother them. And it’s an adjustment to living with other people. Steve and Eddie have a huge soft spot for the reader and want to take care of her.

There can be smut or no smut in this or if it would happen to turn into two or more parts! You’re a talented writer so I have no doubt you will write this beautifully!

A/N: It took me awhile to get to this because it struck a cord with me. I get this. I am this minus a Steve and Eddie.

I think I've mentioned it before but my father suddenly passed away 10 years ago and it destroyed me. I still deal with the aftermath of that to this day. Not only do I struggle with that grief but I struggle with how I was and have been treated which is why I am a big advocate on taking the time to feel what you feel and no matter what anyone says THERE IS NO TIME LIMIT ON GRIEF.

The doctor experience I write in this story happened to me and the chaos of that...I can't even... But yeah...more than anything I want anyone who's grieving a loved one to know, you are not alone, you are not broken, your feelings are valid, and I love you <3.

The title of this comes from "Guernica" by Brand New. I was thinking of this song when I got the request because the lead singer wrote it for his grandfather who was sick in the hospital.

P.S. I am more than willing to write another part to this. I wanted to focus on the emotional aspect more than a smutty aspect for this first part.

Warnings: Topic of Grief and loss of a family member, panic attack mentioned in slight detail, Steve and Eddie have an established relationship here.

"I submit no excuse

If this is what I have to do

I owe you every day I wake

If I could I would shrink myself

Sink through your skin to your blood cells

Remove whatever makes you hurt

But I am too weak to be your cure

Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry?

I am the watch you always wear but you forget to wind."

“So, um, yeah the rent is $1300 including utilities and it’s due on the first of the month. You can leave it on the counter here and I can take it down to make the payment.”

Watching them go through her room was like being stabbed in the chest. When your grandmother passed, a part of you died with her and it killed you even more when you had to slowly begin removing things from her room to make space for a new roommate. Your grandma was your everything basically being a mother to you when everyone else disappeared. When she got sick it, it was no brainer to have her move in so you could look out for her with as much love and care as she had you growing up. 

For four years, she fought her disease until heaven decided it was time for her to go home. After that you began to spiral and not just personally but within life. When did everything become so expensive? Even in your rent-controlled apartment, you could barely afford the bills because everything else around you escalated to the point where now you couldn’t even take out a small loan to get groceries because your credit was so fucked up. 

You didn’t want to get a roommate and avoided the notion as long as possible but when it was becoming harder and harder to live day to day, you finally gave in. 

You were surprised when a boy answered your ad you had placed in the paper but when he told you their story, you couldn’t help but sympathize. 

“Yeah, my boyfriend and I are looking for a nice, safe place. The small town we were living in was already harassing him for the way he looks but when they found out we were together… I knew I needed to get us both out of there.”

“We can take it if you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of everything.”, the pretty boy who introduced himself as Steve responded as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“I mean it’s no problem. I work a couple of jobs so I usually leave pretty early anyway.”

“Me to. Well, it’s more like me coming in early because I work overnights from time to time. I’m not sure if the hospital over here is the same but… yeah. What, um, what do you think, babe?”

The longhaired boy who told you his name was Eddie beamed widely your way.

“I love it. Are you sure we won’t be bothering you, sweetheart? We’re nice guys, we swear.”

“No. No bother.”

Both men glance towards each other at your sullen tone before Steve extended his hand towards you with an equal large but soft smile of his own. 

“We’ll take it.”

***

You didn’t anticipate how hard it was going to be having someone in the apartment again let alone people that reminded you of her. Before she retired, your grandmother was a nurse and when the scent of hand sanitizer and hospital lingered on Steve’s admittedly beautiful hands, your mind shifted to the stories she would tell you about her late nights talking with patients in her care. 

Through smell alone, you learned Eddie got a job as a mechanic at the shop down the street and the first night when the aroma of gasoline lingered you cried at the memories of being a little girl with your grandparents, sitting by your grandfather’s truck as he attempted to fix it for the 400th time. 

Loneliness began to set in almost immediately after they moved in. They never actively displayed affection in front of you but there were moments when you were leaving for work and you’d pass by their open bedroom door to see them cuddled together. Sometimes at night when you would come home from your second job, you would hear Eddie talking to Steve over the phone while he was at work and he would giggle at something the man said on the other line before telling him how much he loved him. 

You missed having someone care about you…

Your grandparents had always been there for you through everything; every breakup, rough patch in life, or just to have someone remind you that you were loved unconditionally…they were there. 

When your grandmother lived with you, you laughed harder, smiled wider, and loved waking up in the morning. Now that all seemed so far away, so unattainable. You couldn’t ever picture yourself being happy like that again. 

To avoid that pain, you ran around constantly. It’s not like you could stop anyway with how hard things got around you. Life moves on…you can’t stop just because you’re numb. You suffer through it just like everyone else. 

“Y/N?”

At the sound of Eddie’s voice, you jumped shattering the glass in your hand.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. That was my fault. You seemed lost in thought. Don’t move, I can clean this up here.”

Nodding, you stood still as you watched him run to grab a broom before your brain caught up with you.

“Wait! Wait, um, don’t…don’t throw away the glass. This was, um, someone in my family gave me this cup.”

“Oh, uh, ok. Well, I don’t see a lot of little pieces. I can try and fix it for you. Do you feel comfortable coming into our room?”

Silently, you headed in that direction, pausing in front of the bed as the metalhead shimmed around you to dig in the desk drawer by the window. Everything in the room was completely different. Where her bed with her yellow comforter used to be was now a bigger bed, higher off the ground with black sheets and blue pillowcases. Where her dresser used to be with the vanity that had photos taped to the mirror was now a much smaller 3 drawer shelf with a guitar hanging above it. On the nightstand, instead of medication and a photo of you with your grandparents, there was now a pack of cigarettes, empty beer cans, a photo of both men, and a book that was half read. 

“Ok, I knew Steve had it around here somewhere. I’m clumsy as hell so he’s always fixing things I accidently break.”, Eddie mused as he sat on the floor and began to focus on his task. “So, um, how are you?”

You couldn’t help but breathily laugh at the awkward way he asked that making him smirk at the sound as you took a seat in front of him.

“I’m alright. I just have a lot going on, you know?”

“Yeah, you come and go a lot like Steve but he gets to sleep. What do you do if I may ask?”

“I’m actually a photographer for the paper.”

“Oooo paparazzi girl!” Eddie’s grin grows as his eyes take you in watching you genuinely laugh for the first time since they met you. “Is that why you come and go at weird hours?”

“Oh, no. When I’m not there, I have another job at the mall taking photos of like families and kids at Glamour Shots.”

“Yeah? Those shiny, glimmering photos? I keep trying to get Steve to take a couple of those with me but he gets adorably embarrassed.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Geez, uh, almost 3 years now. Spent the first couple hiding our relationship because of our town and his parents, rich fuckers who think they control the moral high ground.”, he rolls his eyes. “A few months ago, he finally told them we were together and his parents kicked him out of his house. A couple weeks later, I got harassed at my job and that was the final straw. Steve packed our things and we drove out here.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No reason for you to be, princess. You’ve been nothing but nice to us. Well, when we see you.”, he chuckles. “Steve gets worried sometimes that you push yourself too hard.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m strong. I’ll be ok.”

“No one’s saying your weak, Y/N.”

“Good because I’m not!” You snap as silence falls over the room before Eddie displays the cup for you with his palm on the bottom. 

“You may not want to use it for its purpose but keep it as a display.”

Without taking it from him, you rise to your feet and run to your room, slamming the door. 

###########

Everything was loud.

Why is everything so loud?

You were running late for your second job and you couldn’t find the polo you wore for it. You felt disgusting, not having time to shower in what felt like an eternity and you were just so fucking exhausted. You couldn’t afford to lose this job nor calling in to rest. You had to make money. It’s what everyone else does.

Why is everything so loud?

As you opened your door, you were met with Eddie standing at the counter in the kitchen. 

“Have, um, have you seen…”

“Y/N, are you alright?” Tears cloud your vision as you run your fingers through your hair and absently look around the apartment with your eyes. “BABE.”

You flinched at the metalhead’s loud but stern tone not even realizing that Steve was suddenly in front of you with his hands on your biceps. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Let me go! I have…I have to…to go to work…”, you sobbed before your legs gave out and the world went black. 

***

When your eyes finally fluttered open, it was pitch dark outside and your body felt incredibly drained. It felt like every bone in your body had become stiff as you carefully tried to sit up. 

“Hey, no, no, no. Don’t move to quickly or we’ll lose you again.”, Steve cooed softly as he came up from behind you and sat down on his knees to help adjust you. “Good. Here, drink some of this but not too fast.”

When he handed you the bottle of water, you gladly sipped it as his concerned eyes scanned you over. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Heavy.”

“I’m not surprised. When you push your body as hard as you have at some point it pushes back. Do you think you can eat something while we talk?”

When you nodded, a plate appeared beside you as Eddie handed it to his partner.

“I’m going to ask you some questions purely from a medical standpoint, ok? Do you feel comfortable if Ed stays? He had a bit of a panic attack to when we couldn’t wake you up.”

“That’s fine.”, you whisper. “Is that what happened? I panicked?”

“Um, kind of, honey. This kind of seems like a slow build so I would say anxiety attack. We know you work pretty much around the clock and you told me when I called that you were struggling with cash. Has anything else been going on?”

“Someone…that mattered to me…is gone. Died.”

Eddie sat on the couch next you and without thinking brushed some of your hair behind your ear so they could see your face better. 

“I’m sorry. How long ago?”, the nurse continued to inquire. 

“On the 18th it will be 8 months.”

“And you’ve been doing everything you have?! Y/N.”, the metalhead sighed as his boyfriend gave him a look of warning as if to say tread carefully. “Sweetheart, you should be taking it easy so you can grieve.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to be fine by now.”, you murmur as you shrug your shoulders. “After my grandmother died, I got 2 weeks paid leave for bereavement. Two weeks. Two weeks of fucking casseroles, sympathies, and people checking in. After that time, everyone began to slowly disappear and I went back to work but I never…I never felt whole. I didn’t understand why everyone else seemed fine while I was still felt like I was dying.”

“After two months, I went to a doctor and told them how I felt. Do you know what she said? ‘After 6 weeks, it’s no longer grief but depression.’ That shook me. I thought to myself ‘well shit. I guess there is a time limit on grieving and there must be something wrong with me because I can’t get better!’” 

The tears begin to fall at a faster pace and you let them go. 

“I still have to work, pay my bills, live my life… but no one ever walked me through how to do that. No one ever showed me how to continue existing without the person you love…without someone who meant the most to you… I wasn’t prepared to be left alone without her.”

Eddie presses your head to his chest as you sob, his arms squeezing you tightly as he whispered that you were ok. Sudden heat warmed your side as Steve leaned his head against your shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with yours while your body trembled against them. 

This had been a long time coming and you allowed the pain to wash over you till you fell asleep in their arms. 

***

This time when you opened your eyes, you were bundled up in a blanket with your head still against Eddie’s chest with one hand comfortingly rubbing your arm while the other held a book he was reading. 

“What are you reading?”

Tilting his head, his gentle eyes take you in as he grins and closes the book to show you the cover. 

The Vampire Lestat.

“I love vampires but Steve likes werewolves. Should have known he’d break my heart one day.”, he teased as the other boy comes around and places a soda with more food on the coffee table in front of you. 

“They are big dog like animals. How can you not like them? Y/N, I want you to at least eat a little bit of this, ok? You need to refuel.”

Not wanting to leave the metalheads comfortable embrace, you whine as you sit up until the smell of the pasta hits your nostrils and you realize how hungry you actually are. 

“Slow! Goodness.”, Steve chuckles as he takes a seat on floor after serving his partner and himself as well. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a home cooked meal. Usually, I’m eating microwaved food or something I pick up on the way to and from work. This is delicious, Steve, thank you.”

The three of you casually talk allowing you to really get to the know the men you had been living with. Eddie loved music and had been playing guitar since he was a little boy. He and his uncle had been fixing up cars since he moved in with him after his father went to jail. Steve learned in high school he enjoyed helping people and after he graduated he went to nursing school. 

“My dad gave me shit because I’m ‘settling’ and not becoming a doctor. I like what I do though. As a nurse I get more one on one with patients and make them feel cared for which as you noticed is hard in today’s society. Doctors seem to care more about the money and not the person.”

His eyes drink in your demeanor as you smile, agreeing with his words. Your entire energy seemed different since the first time they met you. You seemed to be relaxing a bit more and some of what he assumed was your normal personality began to shine through. 

“What about you, honey? Eddie told me you’re a photographer.”

Silently, you unraveled the blanket you had been tangled in and bounced to your bedroom, returning with some photos that you placed on the coffee table in front of them. 

“This man here proposed to this girlfriend by painting a mural on the side of an abandoned building that the city was going to tear down. The mayor called it graffiti and they tried arresting him for it.”

“Oh, wow. That’s gorgeous. I hope this guy is making a ton of money in like New York or something.”, the longhaired boy grins.

“This young lady saved her baby brother from a fire.”

“This are amazing, Y/N. You are extremely talented. “

 “What was this story about?”, Steve asked as he held up a photo of an older woman smiling on the couch by a window watching the rain. 

“That’s my grandma.”, you softly smile as you take it from his hands. “This was about a year before she… I remember we were talking about some trivial stuff and suddenly she turned to me and said ‘Life is beautiful. Even something as small as listening to the rain is never something you should take for granted.’”

“I like that.”, Eddie responded with a tender tone that made you feel safe. “She was right. I know it’s hard with all the bullshit going on in the world but… I think we do need to stop and take a look around, you know?”

“Y/N, honey, we hope you know that you don’t have to do everything yourself. We can help you. We have some money in savings if you need to take a break and—”

“No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, we’re offering.”, Steve insisted. “At least, quit your second job. You need a moment to breathe. We can help with any extra bills you may have until you really get back on your feet.”

Tilting forward, you kissed his cheek before leaning towards Eddie to do the same. 

“Thank you…so much…”

################

Over the next week, you felt more motivated to do things you hadn’t wanted to do over the past 8 months. You did what Steve suggested and quit your job at the mall. You began moving around and leaving the apartment for fun things instead of work. You accompanied the boys to a movie at the theater and took them to the lake where you basked in the sunlight all day. 

You took the time to eat healthier, home cooked meals even offering to make your roommates a meal every now and again. Sometimes when you knew Steve would be out all night, you left some leftovers in the refrigerator and wake up the next morning with a note on the counter thanking you with a big smiley face.

One morning, however, you were surprised with something different. When you opened your bedroom door to get some coffee, you noticed a box with a big red bow on the top and a piece of paper attached to the side. 

“Y/N,

There’s no bottom to the box so all you need to do is lift. I was afraid if we put this in an actual box it may break. Steve said it would be ok but I reminded him he fixes people not objects : ). 

Eddie’s been working on this for a while but we thought after how well you’ve been doing, we just wanted to show you how proud we are of you and how much we’ve enjoyed having you in our lives.

Eddie & Steve”

Carefully lifting the wrapped box and placing it aside, you picked up the glass you had dropped and Eddie had tried to fix. The blank material now had an image of your grandmother you had showed them illustrated on to it with her head turned towards the window. Instead of watching the rain, when she looked out the window there was a detailed drawing of you grinning with your fingers tangled in your hair as you were moving it behind your ear.

He had painted it with light colors, giving her an angelic glow that broke you as you began to cry.

Your feet scooted against the floor as you hurried towards their door and knocked on it a bit too enthusiastically causing it to fly open with a panicked look on the metalhead’s half asleep face. 

“What!? What’s going on? Where’s the fire?!”

You tackled your arms around his neck, not even realizing he was only in boxers. From the bed, Steve saw what was in your hand, smirking as he fell back against the pillow and slung his arm over his eyes.

“Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”, you whispered. 

When he finally realized nothing was wrong, his arms settled around your waist.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. You’re not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, ok?” As you pull away and let him go, his hands cup your face as he dries your tears. “Now go back to bed, you fucking weirdo. It’s too early.”, he teases as he lightly pushes you away making you giggle as he turns back around and crawls into bed.

“May I—”

Before you can finish your sentence, he lifts up the covers and Steve pats the mattress between them. Once you climb in, the pretty boy lifts his arm and circles it around you to tug you closer to his side. When your head rests on his bare chest, your surprised at how warm and comfortable he feels against you, looping your arm around him as you nuzzle into his skin. Another set of arms wrap around your waist pressing you against Eddie’s equally comforting frame. 

His steady breath hitting your shoulder mixed with the other man’s heartbeat lulls you into the heaviest sleep you hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

#############

Steddie Asks

[zukosdualdao]

give your all to me / i'll give my all to you

zutara month, day 10: secret, @zutaramonth

summary: the night before they're set to leave to face ozai, katara can't sleep. neither can zuko. "tell me a secret," she asks of him.

warnings: references to ozai's abuse of zuko, kya's murder and katara's discovery, and ursa's disappearance.

other notes: title is a lyric from all of me by john legend. yes this is the second fic i've written about zutara the night before they're supposed to leave for the final battle. no i will not change <3

Though there are several rooms in the Ember Island house, on the first day everyone was here, they’d dragged all the blankets and pillows from them and instead set up in the open room at the front of the house, and that’s how they usually all fall asleep, near to each other—a holdover from Katara and Sokka’s days growing up in the Southern Water Tribe.

Aang is somewhere else, though. She doesn’t know what he’s doing, what he’s thinking.

She doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow.

Toph is snoring lightly, on her back and feet planted firmly on the ground, but Katara’s gotten used to that. That's not why she can't sleep. Sokka sometimes snores, too, but tonight, she can hear his easy, even breathing. Suki is silent in a way she wouldn’t be if she was awake, and Katara knows she’s pulled Sokka up to her side as she always does in sleep.

Zuko is awake. She doesn’t have to look at him or hear anything to know that. 

“Tell me a secret,” she says quietly to the ceiling and to him.

“Like what?” Zuko asks, matching her volume, not bothering to pretend he doesn’t know who she’s asking. Even in the darkness, they have come to understand each other.

“I don’t know. Anything.”

It takes a long moment, but then Zuko says, “Okay.” Another pause, and then: “I use my bending to get the temperature right for the tea. Sometimes.” He says it almost a little guiltily. 

Katara snorts and then looks over to make sure she hasn’t woken the others. Toph shifts in her sleep but otherwise only snores again. When she turns, resting her chin on her hand, Zuko is already staring back at her in a mirror image. His amber eyes are two bright points in the dark.

“That is not a secret. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

“Oh.” She can just make out the way his frown shifts into a slight smile.

“Try again,” Katara says again. “Something I don’t know. Something real.”

He takes a moment to think it over. “The day of the eclipse,” he says finally.

“Yes?”

“My father… he said something.”

“Was this before or after he shot you with lightning?” she asks. It’s rude, abrasive, but—she can’t help it. He’d said that almost casually today while training Aang, and for a moment, that uneasy anger she’d felt when he first came to them resurfaced. Only now, it was for him as well. 

How could he ever choose to go back to that? she’d thought. To someone who would do that to him?

“Before,” Zuko says, matter-of-fact, not seeming bothered by her intrusive question. Katara blinks, brought back to the moment. “He said… he implied… I don’t know. He said she might be alive. My mother. I don’t know if it’s true, or if he just…”

Katara’s heart stutters. Knowing something like that was awful. Knowing that no matter how she wished for it, her mother would never return this earth was an awful burden to bear. Remembering what it felt like to run with everything she had, only to find… 

But not knowing? Being made to wonder? There’s a different kind of cruelty to that.

“If we win,” Katara starts, then pauses, shaking her head. “When we win—you should look for her. And I'll be there with you,” she promises.

There’s a long, silent moment in the aftermath of that. 

“You will?” Zuko asks, sounding sort of choked. Katara smiles softly at him. 

“Yeah,” she insists. “You helped me. Remember?”

The journey to find Yon Rha… it hadn’t been easy, or particularly pleasant. But it was what she needed. And Zuko helped her get there. Told her what she needed to know. Guarded her. Respected her choice to walk away without a word one way or the other, no approval and no dissent.

Zuko stares at her for a moment, discerning. “You don’t owe me anything, you know. It—it wasn’t about that.”

“I know. But I still want to help you.”

“...Okay,” he replies in a soft voice. Then:  “Now it’s your turn.”

“Hm?” Katara asks, her eyes starting to feel heavy with sleep.

“To tell me a secret.” 

Katara winks an eye open again. Mulling it over, she leans just a touch closer and reaches over to smooth his wild hair out of his eyes and touch a gentle hand against his face, against his scar. 

Zuko leans into her hand.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

[byima]

a sort of mother's day drabble for our otp and for sally jackson, best g-ma in the world. set right after this drabble.

.

.

“Hey ma,” Percy announced their return. “Hi,” he lowered his voice, when he took in the scene in their apartment.

Sally was on the couch, Charlie asleep on the cushion next to her.

“Hi hun– Hi sweetheart,” Sally addressed Annabeth, who was bent over in the hall behind him, unbuckling her sandals. “How was it?”

“It was nice.” Percy tossed his keys onto the dining table. “Went to Olive Garden and had their, uh, soup salad thing.”

“The lunch special,” Annabeth explained.

“Yeah. We brought you some soup, the one with gnocchi.”

“You can put it in the fridge for me, thank you.” She sang the last bit as Percy headed into the kitchen to follow instructions.

“Hi,” Sally said for the third time, when Annabeth sat close to her side.

“Thanks for doing this today.” Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, nudging Sally’s body with her own.

The older woman smiled at her, narrowing her eyes before patting Annabeth lightly on the thigh. “No need to thank me. The gnocchi does the trick.”

“I know, I just…” she chewed her lower lip, then laid her hand over Sally’s. “Hold on, I want to show you something.”

She reached for her bag, which she had tossed by the arm of the couch, softly calling Percy over as she pulled it into her lap.

He was behind them, arms braced against the back of the sofa, by the time she’d located the manilla folder in the clutter of her purse.

Sally had already gone still when she saw the folder, then started crying when Annabeth slid the contents free, one black and white photo after the next.

She covered her crying eyes and leaned into her. Annabeth wrapped both arms around her mother-in-law, returning Percy’s grinning, slightly teary look over Sally’s hunched form.

“I can’t breathe, oh my god,” Sally moaned. “I’m going to pass out.”

“Breathe, ma,” he rubbed her back comfortingly. “We need you alive for this.”

Sally ignored him. “I thought something was going on, I mean, I just knew something was going on, but I didn’t think it would be another baby, so soon.” She sat up.

“So soon?” Sally turned, directing the question at Percy like the timing was his fault alone.

He flushed, even though he knew better. “Um–”

“I’m only eight weeks,” Annabeth clarified. 

Sally laid a hand over her heart

“We just found out–I couldn’t keep it from you,” she explained, hardly knowing what she was saying. “It's a bit of a shock for us too.”

Sally looked at Percy again, but this time he laughed.

“I don’t know why you keep looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” She tried to play innocent. “Com’mere.” She held him by the shirt, bringing him down to her level for a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you guys. I love you. I love all the grandchildren you give me.”

“You know you’re the best ma/g-ma in the world.”

“Two little babies,” she crooned.

Charlie started stirring in all the commotion–light sleeper that she was–making fussy noises until her dad rounded the couch and picked her up.

“How are you feeling?” Sally had the ultrasound photos in her hands and was going through them one by one. She brushed her thumb over one image, the developing fetus curled like a lima bean.

Annabeth watched Percy with Charlie, who had decided nap time was over. She clung moodily to her dad, cheek on his shoulder, two fingers in her mouth.

“Really good, health-wise," she answered, eyes lingering on the father-daughter pair taking laps around the living room. "I’m taking things day by day.”

"That's the best thing you can do. Soak up these moments before they're all grown up." Sally followed Annabeth's gaze. "Saving the world and having their own babies."

Annabeth lowered her voice before she mentioned, "He freaked out at the transvaginal ultrasound."

Percy looked at them snorting together and groaned. "The sonographer pulled out a fucking... baton, no warning."

Sally waved him off with a laugh. "Did you cry–you know, when you heard the heartbeat?"

"Like a baby." He grinned at his wife, bouncing Charlie lightly as her eyelids began to flutter closed.

Annabeth nodded to confirm this. "I was worse though. I couldn't even ask her any questions, I was such a bawling mess."

After a long back and forth about sexes and maternity jeans and the probability of colic twice in a row, Sally eventually stood, moved by the hunger that comes with good company. She handed Annabeth her leftover breadsticks before heating her soup.

In the kitchen she leaned against the stove, watching the little family as she waited for the microwave.

Annabeth had tucked her legs up underneath her on the couch. Charlie was still fighting sleep, despite her dad's cajoling. Percy had settled into the space by Annabeth, nodding when she offered him a bite of her food.

She fed him too much at once. He angled his head away to avoid deep-throating the breadstick. She stared, fighting a grin, and he stared back, jaw working hard to chew the mouthful. He shook his head, eyes narrowing at her mischief. Hers crinkled with her smile. Then she leaned over, careful of the baby, and gently kissed him.

[stinmybubs]

“Do It For Us.” Pt.1 1k likes special !

Summary: A simple girl, quirkless and will never amount to anything! Well that’s what’s she’s been told. Bullied along side Izuku Midorya, her best friend, and long term crush. Getting into UA and having a quirk? And she’s left behind…what’s left for her?

TRIGGER WARNINGS: bullying, domestic abuse, and violence!! NOT PROOFREAD !!

M. Izuku x AFAB! Reader! x B.Katsuki?

Quirkless. A label that’s been slapped onto you for as long as you can remember, something you couldn’t control. But you still got punish all your life, you were bullied, scorned, and outcasted by others and your own family. But.

You had Izuku Midoriya, another quirkless person. You weren’t suffering alone!

That’s what you thought at least.

For the longest time you’ve stayed by Izuku’s side, defending him from bullies, taking the hit for him. But he always had this big ambition to be a hero, you of course encouraged him.

“One day! Even though I don’t have a quirk…I’ll be just like him. I’ll make people feel safe!” The small boy exclaimed, the biggest smile painted across his face, and you admired that. You admired every part of this boy.

“Yeah! You’ll be the greatest hero! Show them all Izu, show them we can help…do it for us!” You wanted to share this moment, you wanted to be happy with him about this dream. All you could do was hope, but deep down you felt dread, knowing his dream could never be fulfilled.

“Y/n! Y/n l/n! Get your ass downstairs IMMEDIATELY.” Hearing the screams of your father, your heart dropping at the sudden call.

You heart raced with every step, trying your best to keep your composure before even reaching the bottom of the steps.

“Ye-“ before you could even utter a word you felt a sharp pain against your cheek. The hit was so strong you collapsed to the floor, the feeling of tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“What is this!?” Your father slammed a bunch of papers onto you. It was your test scores. C- and D+ written on all of them.

“I…I…I’m sorry father I-“ your words cut off with another slap to your face.

“First no quirk! Then you keep bringing these home? How useless are you? I expected you to at least to be smart since you’re quirkless.” Your father insulted you, and all you could do was sit there and stare at the floor trying to contain all your tears and rage.

It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t control whether you had a quirk. It was your parents fault, something in their genetics made you this way! Is what you wanted to think.

“Go back to your room. Fucking shit…” your father turned to walk away, your mother making dinner in the kitchen not having a care in the world for your well being.

You frantically pick up the papers scattered on the floor, tears streaming down your face as you run back up the stairs to hide in your room.

All you could do was throw your papers on the floor and rush to your small closet. You’ve always hid in your closet, not even your bed or your room felt safe when things like this happened. The small cramped space made you feel safe.

Curling up in a ball, 15 year old you cried. Cried for hours until you fell asleep in that closet.

The next morning you quickly got ready before anyone could wake. Sneaking yourself food for breakfast and lunch.

As you make your way down to you and Izuku’s meeting spot you couldn’t help but think. Of how your mother wasn’t always like this, she used to defend you, she used to help you.

She used to love you.

But after all the bearings, after all the insulting she finally stopped. So broken down to the point where she couldn’t even look at you anymore. You couldn’t help but hate her for it, you needed her.

“Hey! Oh…what happened…?” Izuku quickly ran up to you.

You didn’t even notice the boy until his hand placed itself upon your cheek to make you look at him, the sting of the bruise made you flinch.

“Oh…! Uh…bullies ahah..got me last night.” You lied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry Izuku about your home life, he never knew about your family. And he never will.

“Ah..I’m sorry y/n. I’m sorry I didn’t get to walk you home last night.” He pulled you into a tight hug, tears begging to run down the boys face. You hugged him back, finding comfort in his warmth. A perfect morning. You thought.

You two chat, wiping the tears from each others eyes and make your way to your middle school.

You loved every bit of Izuku’s company, it felt safe, it felt like home.

“Yeah! Then Mount lady came in and-“ Izuku rambled on and on about the fight that happened with an amateur villain this morning. “Woah! I love Mount lady! She’s so cool.” You state, imagining what Izuku was describing.

“You know it would be cool if Mount lady could control her size! Like what if she could…” Izuku began to mutter again. Oh how you found this habit so cute. When this happened you sat and listened until he realized what he’s doing and get flustered as always.

The school day was hell, you and Izuku getting picked on by Bakugou Katsuki and his little gang all day.

“I would pass out career forms but we all know…-!” The teacher went on to talk about the hero tracks, with everyone celebrating.

“Oh yeah, Izuku Midorya didn’t you want to attend UA too?”

What…?

You quickly look over at your friend as soon as the class starts to burst into laughter. You didn’t know how to feel, you though he might’ve given up that dream already. But he hasn’t. Hah…I guess you never give up Izu.

After the commotion and class was over you padded over to Izuku hugging him from his shoulders behind him. “Gotcha Izu!” You giggle as the startled boy let out a yelp.

“You’re so cute when you’re scared!” You laugh looking over to see what he was writing. Cute! You thought seeing the notes on other heros quirks.

“How could a quirkless guy like you have a girlfriend?” Oh boy. One of Katsuki’s lackies stated, even though you weren’t his girlfriend you never will deny not being his.

“Don’t ya’ dare even try useless Deku! Once I am the only-“ you tune out Katsuki’s words, anger filling your body, your smiled immediately fading into a frown. Letting go of Izuku as the frightened boy jolted up out of his seat.

“What’s this!? He’s writing about being a hero!?”

Your heart dropped when Katsuki grabbed the notebook, your blood boiling at soon as he exploded the notebook your best friend work so hard on and throwing it out the window like it was trash.

You couldn’t control yourself, all you felt was pent up anger and you could help but run to Bakugou and.

SLAP. The noise echoed throughout the empty classroom. Adrenaline rushing through your body, realizing what you’ve done.

“You bully! You’re the pathetic one for bullying helpless people with your quirks! We never asked for this! We couldn’t control whether we are quirkless or not! Why should we be punished? It’s unfair and-“ you quickly shut your mouth. Realizing everything was pouring out in that moment, and realizing the anger in the the boys red eyes.

You had slapped Katsuki Bakugou. And now all you felt was fear, quickly trying to retreat before Bakugou grabbed your wrist tightly. “Ow-!” You wince in pin at the grip, it felt like he was going to snap your wrist.

“Kachann stop!” Izuku put himself between you and the blonde. “You can hurt me but you should never hurt a girl!” He states a angrily. Bakugou simply huffed, finally letting go of your wrist and stomping out the classroom.

You wince in pain, grabbing your own wrist taking a good look. “It’s already bruising…” you slump in one of the nearby chairs. You really wanted to cry, but you couldn’t. You’re were too tired.

“I’m sorry…” feeling the warmth of Izuku’s hug felt a bit better, but you were just so tired of feeling so helpless, useless, and weak.

You try everything not to go home, sitting there on a park bench for what felt like ages. It’s not like you haven’t done this before, sleeping outside to avoid your parents.

“I’ll sleep in the park…I didn’t eat lunch so I have dinner..” you sigh, taking out the bag of food you packed, staring at the onigiri in your hand.

“Oi’ the hell you doin here.” Your heart sank, hearing the angry voice of Bakugou. “N-none of your business..” you don’t even look up at him. You just start opening up your onigiri.

“It’s gettin’ dark. A girl shoul-“ you cut him off. “What’s it to you huh!?” You yell, taking a bite out of your food just hoping he goes away. Praying he doesn’t keep talking to you.

A long pause of silence. Thinking he’s gone the tears roll down your face, falling onto your skirt as your hands begin to shake.

“Those bruises…aren’t from bullies aren’t they.”

He was still there. Your face flushed out of embarrassment. “What!? They..” you didn’t know why but…everything just flooded out.

“No…they’re from my dad…you’re not the only one who hates quirkless people.” You chuckle lightly, looking up at the blonde boy tears running down your face.

“Come.” He simply states, turning away from you, “What…?” You question, not knowing what he meant.

“You comin or nah?” He looks back at you, noticing the kind of rough state he’s in. Did he get in a fight? You thought, standing up to follow him.

You didn’t know why you were following him. You didn’t know why you didn’t feel so scared anymore.

Bakugou led you to his home, opening the door carefully and quietly. You guessed you didn’t want his parents to find out he was bringing home a girl.

Well Bakugou wasn’t sneaky enough.

“KATSUKI BAKUGOU!” The sound of his yelling mother made you flinch, subconsciously grabbing onto the back of his shirt. It’s smelt of smoke and grime.

“ugh…” you heard the boy groan he clearly wasn’t in the mood for his mom, when is he ever in the mood? You thought.

“YOU WENT AND GIT CAUGHT BY A VIL-“ Seeing the spikey-blonde hair women approach, she suddenly stopped in her tracks seeing you cowering behind her son. Woah…Bakugou looks exactly like her.

“A GIRL!? MASARU ITS FINALLY HAPPENING!”

“Stop yellin’ yer scarin her.” Katsuki stated, looking back at your cowering figure. You jump, realizing that you were holding on to him and quickly stand beside him, a bit flustered.

“Oh! I’m sorry, what’s your name sweetheart!” She leans a bit forward trying to get a look at your face, noticing the bruise on your wrist.

“It’s…Y/n.” You meekly look up at her, terrified to meet someone else’s parent. Hell you barley even met Izuku’s mom!

“Oh my..what happened to…KATSUKI DID YOU DO THIS!?” The pointed to your face, noticing the bruises on both sides of your cheeks. Oh! You forgot you had those, ever since Izuku mentioned them at least.

“No you old hag! And stop yer yellin!” Natsuki hissed, defending himself. Well he did bruise your wrist but he never slapped you. “No! It’s wasn’t him…it was…” you trailed off, clearly the topic wasn’t something you wanted to talk about.

“Oh..! Well my name is Mitsuki Bakugou… you can stay here as long as you want. Come to me if you need anything sweetheart.” She placed a hand on your cheek, it was gentle and warm. It felt nice.

You couldn’t help but lean into her touch, feeling a mothers love is something you craved for the longest time. Tears began rolling down your cheeks, running to Katsuki’s mom hugging her.

Katsuki’s eyes widened at your sudden actions, surprised that you went to hug his mother. Is it that bad? He thought, a sense of guilt and sympathy washing over him, watching you cry in his mothers arms.

After a few tears, and hugs, Mitsuki sent you off to wash up. You were sleeping in Katsuki’s room! That is until they put a bed into their office room. You felt bad for Intruding in their home, sinking into the hot water.

This home was so loving regardless of the yelling, they felt so natural so different. You were jealous of their happy home.

Mitsuki had given you some spare clothes, of course you weren’t sure if you’d fit her underwear at all, she said that you two would go out and buy some together, this was all happening so fast. You felt so guilty.

Turns out a grown women’s shorts cannot fit onto your adolescence body! Her shirt was a little baggy too, your brah also was in the wash! So looks like you were only wearing panties and a shirt to bed. Which was embarrassing.

Katsuki was laying on a futon on the floor, he was kind enough to lend you his bed.

“H-hey…Bakugou…why..why are you doing this?” You question, turning yourself over to face him.

“Dunno…just cuz..” what a vague answer he gave you. You probably knew it was for pity, or maybe your outburst put a bit of sympathy in his heart.

“I’ll be gone by tomorrow…don’t worry you won’t have a quirkless loser in your home.” Katsuki flinched at your words, a sense of guilt still in him for saying those things to you and Izuku.

“Like my ma said. Stay as long as you need. Don go back to yer parents…or yknow.” He turned over to look at you, the both of you making eye contact for a minute.

“Thanks…thank you.” You smile softly at him, letting your eyes close to get a peaceful nights worth of sleep.

AN: This will be a couple of parts! A short story :) I hope you all enjoy some soft Bakugou and Some Izuku! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY POSTS I LOVE ALL OF YOU MWAH here’s more XoXo Stinmybubs!!!

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xviii

⟶ Chapter summary | Something is amiss. Whether it is the circumstances growing within the fairy tale realm, or the happenings within his Empire. Holding onto the past reminding him of the night his life was turned outside down by fate, Yoongi tries his best to fix everything, finding answers that could help secure the promised future that he wishes to have with you. 

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 8,741 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include magic terms, mentions of illness/plagues, classism, flashbacks. ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

chapter xviii. the fairy prince

Yoongi is beginning to regret ever coming home to Emburn. 

The regret doesn’t usually affect him as much when he has to consider the advantages that he has gained by being home. 

Being back in Emburn had not only given him a chance to recharge and recover by being close to the source of his magic, after using his mana for so long while he travelled through the human realm. It has also allowed him to remain close to the Emperor. The time he spent away from home has been filled with too many worries plaguing his mind. Not only for the Emperor’s health but also for his father’s safety, knowing that there may be certain factors present within the empire’s territory that may pose a threat to the Emperor and the throne while Yoongi was away. 

But being home also means having access to his magic portals which he wasn’t able to use back at the human realm. 

If not for his magic portals, travelling back and forth between two different realms would have been inconvenient, and he wouldn’t have been able to travel to many different places in the short period of time that he still has to finish his mission. 

And because of his magic portals, Yoongi was finally reunited with the one that has become his main purpose for a long time. Long before he accepted the duty that the Emperor had given him. 

Had he chosen to remain in the human realm, to stay back and lie in wait in Smotia the same way he had been instead of chasing the path that fate was leading him to, he would have missed the opportunity to find you. He would have been stuck in the same place, chasing your shadows without ever knowing what it would be like to spend time with you. He wouldn’t have been able to receive the blessing of your presence, nor to be able to listen to your voice that sounds like a gentle lullaby to his ears. 

His lips curl to a small smile as he thinks of you. Something deep inside his chest quivers each time he recalls the time he spent with you. No matter how brief and short those moments have been. 

Thinking about you makes him desperately wishing that he was somewhere else instead of being here, strolling down the cold hallways of the imperial palace in long strides and with tense shoulders — as if he is about to go to war. He could have been out there instead, spending his time with you and learning more about you. And yet here he is now, making his way to deal with the one thing that he is dreadful of the most. 

To have a private audience with the Empress. 

Ever since the night Yijeong came to fetch him in the middle of his outing in Grimm, Yoongi has been doing his best to stay away from the main palace. Avoiding his mother, the Empress, no matter how many times she has sent someone to summon him for a private audience with her.  

At first, Yoongi had hoped that he would feel the ripples from the magic portals alerting him of your movement, giving him a reason to escape moments like this. But the portals have been idle. At least, they have been from your side, letting him know that you haven’t been using the portals again for the past few days. And he has been stuck in a state of limbo since. Stuck between worrying about you and feeling disappointed for not getting a chance to run away with you.  

Yet fate has been on his side regardless, giving him enough excuse to avoid seeing the Empress whenever her summons came. Even if it meant having to deal with the dire circumstances that are currently happening in the Land of Far Far Away. Things that had been most overwhelming for him to deal with. 

The turbulence that he sensed since his first arrival to Emburn has been growing more intense as of late. Trouble has risen in various places within the realm, coming in various forms that Yoongi could no longer ignore. It may not have been his responsibility to get involved in this kind of matter — especially when it involves other kingdoms’ business. 

But Yoongi still had to investigate the situation further before these dire troubles would ever reach his empire, and he had the magic portals to help him move around the realm, visiting various territories to find out what has been happening in his home realm. 

And yet, his attempts to continue avoiding this day have come to an end. Things have been quiet lately. No further development nor changes have been found. No news calling him to set out on a voyage. No signs coming from you either to know what he must do to escape from this place to see you. 

Yoongi is running out of excuses while the Empress is running out of patience. 

Clenching his hands to his side, Yoongi marches towards the Empress’s parlour, where his mother is currently waiting for him. The day is still too early for him to be here, and to be facing this ordeal, but he knows that it would be unreasonable for him to delay this further. 

Two royal guards stand by the doorway to the Empress’s parlour once he reaches the place. The door is closed shut, while the Imperial Aide, the royal butler, stands in front of the door — as if he was deliberately made to wait for the Crown Prince to arrive. 

Yoongi takes a moment to collect his wits. He cannot think of a reason why his mother would choose to have her breakfast in her private quarter this morning instead of using the royal dining room for this kind of meeting. Yoongi can only assume that his reluctance to indulge her would be the reason behind her choices. 

Even though there is also the possibility that it may have something to do with their special guests.

Yoongi grits his teeth as he thinks about the Empress’s guests. The real reason why he has been avoiding seeing his own mother since his return. He can only hope that by choosing to invite him to her parlour, the Empress is keeping this meeting short and personal. 

“I’m ready to see the Empress,” Yoongi calmly announces to the Imperial Aide before him. Neither of the guards shows any reaction to his presence, while the Aide greets him with a slight bow before turning to the door. 

The massive door to the Empress’s parlour creaks as it opens, allowing the warm breeze from the chamber to reach the hallway outside. 

“The Crown Prince has arrived for the Empress,” the Aide announces Yoongi’s arrival into the room, his bold voice echoing through the chamber. 

Without waiting for a response, Yoongi enters the chamber with long, confident gaits, eager to get things done as soon as possible so he can continue with his day. He keeps the thought of you in his mind to help him push through with every step he takes, going straight towards the center of the parlour where the Empress is calmly waiting for him. 

Once he is inside, the warm morning sun immediately embraces Yoongi, making it seem as if he had just stepped outside of the palace and is now walking across the garden instead of entering a private chamber. 

Which isn’t completely wrong, as the Empress’s parlour isn’t made like any other private quarters that can be found in the main palace. 

The door to the chamber opens up to a small foyer that appears like a landing to the palace’s towers. The floor continues not to a set of stairwells leading up to the upper floors, and instead opens up to a spacious room with floor-to-ceiling windows made of shadow glass which connect to a dome ceiling that was built of the same materials as the glass walls. The clear shadow glass above his head allows sunlight to penetrate directly into the chamber, like the glasshouse that most would find in the royal gardens and the public parks across the empire. 

White osnite stone-blocks make up the floor, formed into small pathways leading to the center of the chamber with patches of white-root grass. On either side of the pathway, green hedges lined up perfectly as a guide, each hedges are adorned with scarlet laceflowers and black-eyed tulips — the Empress’s favourite flowers. 

A small dining table is placed under the silver-leave sycamore tree that grows at the heart of the chamber, topped with various assortments and drinks as if it has been prepared for a fancy feast instead of an intimate meeting. 

Yoongi’s mother, Empress Ariane, sits at the table on her own. Barely paying attention to Yoongi as she slowly sips her tea while he makes it across the chamber to approach her. 

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” Yoongi formally greets his mother. 

Lowering her cup of tea, Empress Ariane turns to her son and nods. “Good. You’re here.” Sets her cup down to the table and rings for the palace maids as she gestures to the empty seat across the table, “Sit. We have much to discuss.” 

Yoongi is once again forced to grit his teeth and hold back the retort forming on the tip of his tongue. If he wants to get this over with and keep his peace, he needs to play along. For now. 

With a slight nod, Yoongi merely answers with, “Yes, Mother,” before taking his seat to join her.  

“It bothers me to think of how hard it has been for me just to see my son.” 

Several minutes have passed since Yoongi had joined the Empress at the breakfast table. Minutes filled with tension and silence that even the palace maids tending to Yoongi’s breakfast meal had to move as if they were walking on eggshells. Only once everyone has left the chamber does Empress Ariane start to speak, although she barely acknowledges Yoongi’s discomfort as she keeps her attention on the tea that she is pouring.

Yoongi knows that this is just one of the games that she plays to show him that she holds all control. It is her way of showing him that as long as the Emperor has yet to hand over the throne and she is still the acting ruler taking his place, Yoongi is still required to follow her rules. 

Yet Yoongi has his own game plan prepared whenever he has to deal with the Empress. A plan that even the Emperor himself may not be so fond of, even if he is the force behind everything that Yoongi has been working on. 

“You know there are duties that I must fulfil while His Majesty is absent. You should consider it one of the steps I must go through to prepare myself for taking the Emperor’s place.” 

Lifting her cup of tea, Empress Ariane lifts her gaze at her son. “Hmmm,” she hums softly, barely reacting as she carefully drinks her morning tea. 

“I don’t know why you have to involve yourself directly when you could have sent out someone you trust to do these things instead,” she says after a brief pause. 

It is possible that the Empress might be fishing for a reaction. Knowing this, Yoongi masks his expression as best he can, although the Empress’s comment doesn’t stop Yoongi from wondering if she had somehow learned about what he has been up to, nor about what the Emperor had sent Yoongi out to do. He is quite sure that no one in the empire would have any knowledge of the mercenary army that he built as a front to hide his movements. Even if the people from the empire have ever heard about the brotherhood, Yoongi has made sure that they would never find out about his and Yijeong’s involvement with them. 

But that doesn’t mean that he can remain complacent. 

Yoongi has no doubt that the Empress may have planted spies around his men and the people working around him within the palace. Accepting the tea that the Empress is offering him, Yoongi silently reminds himself to be more vigilant with his actions. Yet his main focus right now is to learn what the Empress is up to and how much that she knows about his deal with the Emperor, or why Yoongi had spent such a long time travelling through the human realm. 

“Why did you have the breakfast setup in this chamber instead of using the royal dining room?” Yoongi calmly asks, choosing to divert the conversation instead of reacting to her snide comment. 

If Empress Ariane is thrown off by his response, she isn’t showing it. “I like it better here. The peace and quiet is a nice change,” the Empress haughtily says, “I also figured if I invited you to meet somewhere else with a formal setup, you would have only refused to come.” 

She turns her sharp gaze to Yoongi, adding, “I also know that you wouldn’t have come to me if you had thought we were having our guests joining us.” 

Keeping his eyes on the Empress, Yoongi takes a bite of his breakfast muffin to hide his playful smirk. “And where are your guests this morning, as they aren’t invited to this special meet-up that I am so privileged to attend?” 

Empress Ariane appears miffed at Yoongi’s comment. The way he is insinuating that he takes no part in welcoming these guests isn’t lost to her. 

“They are having their breakfast in the Lillypad Pavillion,” she says, referring to the guest pavilion that is located near the small lake on the Southern side of the Imperial Palace’s territory. The place which the previous Empress—Yoongi’s grandmother—had deeply favoured before her passing. Away from the main palace, the pavilion is quite secluded. It is the only place within the Imperial Palace’s territory which Empress Ariane rarely visits. 

“The weather is turning cold and the view of the Emerald Lake should be more interesting for them to enjoy instead of being stuck within the cold palace walls and witnessing the Crown Prince’s brooding face.” 

Yoongi barely holds back his sarcastic scoff. “Wise decision.”

As long as you are keeping them away from me, he wonders to himself. Because he would never allow himself to be in the same room with them. Especially not the recently-crowned Emperor of Kosha. Someone related to his father’s former nemesis. 

The fact that the Empress is associating herself with the people from the Kosha Empire is unfathomable. Yet he cannot ignore the fact that it may have something to do with her parentage, as Empress Ariane’s bloodline had come from the Kosha Empire, dating since long before their involvement in the Great Siege many years ago. 

“I take it that today will be just another busy day for you?” the Empress questions him with a sneer, while Yoongi maintains his cool.

“You know this, and yet you still have to ask. I do have my duties, since—much like you do—I am obligated to fill in the Emperor’s shoes as someone who has played the role as one of the protectors of the realm while ruling this empire with his magic,” Yoongi reminds his mother, who wears a scowl on her face. She doesn’t seem to enjoy being reminded of how vital the Emperor’s absence has been, not only for the empire but also for the rest of the realm.

“What was your true purpose of summoning me home, Mother?” Yoongi asks, almost with a challenging tone in his voice, “Aside from forcing me to be the host to your outstanding guests?” 

The Empress’ scowl deepens before she hides it by picking up her cup of tea. “Would it be so wrong for a mother to want to see her son?” she scoffs. Yoongi sees the sight of her jaw clenching for a brief moment, a tension that has been appearing quite often lately, although her edginess seems to calm down with a sip of her tea. 

She always drinks her tea when she is agitated, Yoongi wonders as he tilts his head, studying the Empress closely while she seems to have her mind wandering away. 

He starts to notice how tired and frail she looks, something that he seems to have overlooked during the previous times they spent sharing these terse — and ridiculously intense — conversations. 

“I might have been busy trying to fill in the Emperor’s place until he—” With a sharp inhale of breath, her words are cut short. She purses her lips with anguish at whatever it was that almost slipped out of her lips, and Yoongi cannot help but wonder what might be going on through her mind right now about the Emperor’s condition. 

The Empress's hand trembles as she lowers the cup to the table. “I, too, have my responsibilities to the empire and the people in the Emperor’s absence,” she says with a tight voice which makes Yoongi feel guilty about bringing up his father’s absence in all of this. “But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t have time to worry about the Crown Prince while he is taking his time away from the empire so much.” 

Yoongi gives her a bitter smile. “How nice of you to be thinking about my well-being. But as you can see for yourself, I am doing fine.” 

The Empress’s hand once again trembles. This time, she barely contains her emotions when she snaps, “You know that your well-being isn’t the only thing that I am concerned about.”  

Yoongi certainly didn’t expect to see the Empress losing her calm. Yet Yoongi remains cool-headed, even though he cannot help but wonder why the Empress seems to be in so much haste in trying to get him to settle back in the Imperial Palace, when even the ailing Emperor himself has yet to show any signs of handing over the crown. 

“Are you worried that I would be neglecting my responsibilities as the apparent heir to the throne?” Yoongi curiously wonders, and the distaste he sees in his mother’s face becomes more evident. 

“How could I not, when you are always away instead of focusing on your duties back home?” the Empress objects, “Instead of dawdling away and creating racket everywhere, you should be preparing yourself to marry and replace the Emperor by claiming the throne.”

Yoongi can barely holds back his emotions after hearing this. The Empress’s comment made him sound like a delinquent who is rebelling against his family and the royal duties he must fulfil, when he has been working hard to fulfil his promise to the Emperor. A promise that he intends to keep if he wants to protect the people of Emburn. 

“Marry?” Yoongi lets out an incredulous laugh when he can no longer keep his calm. “And who, dare I ask, shall I marry, Your Majesty?” 

Looking straight into his mother’s eyes, he taunts her with a bitter chuckle, “Perhaps you are thinking about the Princess that you have been so kindly housed in the guest room so close to where your bedchamber is?”  

Instead of answering, Empress Ariane simply gives her son a look filled with disapproval. “What if that is my intention? What if the purpose of having our guests is to arrange for you to open the path to the Crown?” 

The Empress raises her chin. “Don’t tell me that you still believe that farce prophecy about you having someone betrothed to you since birth.” 

Biting the insides of his cheeks, Yoongi can barely hold back the growl escaping his throat when he retorts back with, “It wasn’t a farce, Mother.” 

“Then tell me, Son. Where is she? Why—if she was the one chosen by the moon—is she not here to claim her place by your side?” Empress Ariane challenges her son, “That’s because the one you were promised to never existed.”

But I have found her. 

It is what Yoongi wishes so deeply to shout at his mother. Because he has found his soulmate. He had found you, after many years of searching until you finally came to his path. 

Yet he keeps his words to himself. Keeping his secret in order to keep you safe. 

“Don’t trust anyone.” 

Emperor Aymon’s words continue to linger in his mind each time Yoongi starts feeling doubtful. His warning serves as a reminder that he needs to be careful who to trust. Knowing his father’s past involving deception and betrayal, and what it did to the empire’s fate, Yoongi knows to listen well and follow his words. 

But how far is the limit? What draws the line between honesty and deceit? What signs should he be looking for in terms of deciding who to trust? 

He hates having to be wary of his own mother. But he understands the need to put his guards up when even the Emperor himself has always been cautious of Empress Ariane. And now, with the Empress openly showing her connection to the Kosha Empire, Yoongi knows that his time is running out.

Trouble is getting near, and the Empress’s actions may become the catalyst of what the Emperor has predicted to happen. 

Yoongi will have to see the Emperor again soon. 

Days have passed since he returned from Grimm. 

Days without any sign coming from the portals to let him know that you are currently on the move. It has him worrying about you when he hears nothing from your side. Yet at the same time, the passing days when he had to remain in the Imperial Palace have allowed him to carry on with his investigation regarding the circumstances transpiring in the Land of Far Far Away. 

To figure out if the turbulences that have been happening all around him have anything to do with Emperor Aymon’s weakening mana and his inability to control his magic. 

This thought had first crossed Yoongi’s mind after the first visit he made to the Emperor when he first came back to Emburn. The barely contained mana that he felt erupting from the Emperor at the height of his fever one night had coincidentally matched the disturbances that he felt rippling through the air. It was also visible in the night sky when Yoongi took his evening walk in the royal gardens, the display of light dancing in the night sky with dark crimson shades that almost appeared like a burning flame. 

At first, he refused to believe that the Emperor’s illness would have anything to do with the signs that he was seeing. Emperor Aymon may have been one of the strongest fairies ever lived long before he fell ill, as the one carrying on the legacy of the Ancient Fairies of the realm through his bloodline, yet there was no possible way that the Emperor’s magic would have been strong enough to affect the entire realm with his ailment. 

It wasn’t until much later, once he was deep in his investigation when Yoongi learned that maybe, there really is a silver lining between what is currently happening in his home realm to his father’s condition. 

“There has to be a sense of balance within the realm to maintain peace,” Emperor Aymon had spoken the night Yoongi came to bring this up to him, “And that balance had been fractured for a long, long time.” 

“But—I don’t understand. What does it have to do with you being ill?” 

“My illness,” the Emperor hummed with a light chuckle. “It is one of a ruler’s responsibilities to protect their kingdom. For the likes of us, we use our magic to keep our empire from falling. To serve as the pillars of our kingdoms. But as always, the kind of magic that we use to do our duty as a ruler comes with a price.” 

As he sat beside the Emperor’s bed, Yoongi recalled everything that he had learned ever since he began taking lectures from various tutors growing up, and the things that the Emperor himself had taught him about being the apparent heir of Emburn. 

“You’ve taught me this a long time ago.” 

Emperor Aymon struggled as he took in a slow breath that seemed a bit too shallow to Yoongi’s liking. “The disturbances that you are seeing now — it has been on its way to our empire, our land, for as long as I can remember. Keeping up with the spells to protect this empire may have cost me a lot more than I had expected.” 

Yoongi leaned closer then to ask, “Is that what’s happening to you?” 

The Emperor responded with a light chuckle, only that his laughter soon faded into a fit of cough that took its time settling down. He didn’t speak after a brief while. Not until Yoongi helped him with a glass of water to help soothe the pain in his chest. “If only that had been the only reason, we would’ve solved this problem a long time ago. Other factors may have come into play in this whole situation,” Emperor Aymon scoffed lightly, “My condition, for one.” 

Emperor Aymon lowered his voice when he continued further, “And those factors may also be the reason why the entire realm is fighting for its survival right now.” 

“Do you know who might be behind this?” 

Yoongi had to bite his tongue to keep himself from asking the real question; “Is there someone who is deliberately making the Emperor ill?”

“I can’t say,” he hummed, almost to himself. Almost as if he didn’t want to say more. 

“But you have suspicions.” 

Instead of answering his son, the Emperor pushed himself higher to lean back against the bedrest, finding comfort so he could breathe better before asking Yoongi firmly, “You need to look closer into what is happening. Find out how far it has gotten. We don’t want a repeat from the past.” 

Yoongi was taken aback. “The past—?” Deep down, he already had a hunch at what the Emperor was insinuating, although he had doubts about it. 

Emperor Aymon fell into another coughing fit before he could finally speak again. “Find out how bad it has gotten, and find the source of this disorder. Find any proof—” Another cough slipped right out of him, and he could barely find his voice to add, “Make sure that you’ll have a clue and an answer before you find her and bring her back home.” 

As always, every conversation that Yoongi shared with the Emperor had always ended with the mention of his missing childhood friend. “You make it seem like Queen Milena is the answer to everything.” 

He always does. It made Yoongi wonder if there was something that he was missing. 

A haunted smile flickered briefly on the Emperor’s pallid face. “She might as well be,” he murmured in a fading voice, and Yoongi already knew that he wouldn’t have his answer, not even when his father whispered as he slowly faded into slumber, “She’s the link to the past, after all.” 

Yoongi may not be able to understand completely Emperor Aymon’s fixation on finding the missing Queen. But he still sees it as his duty. His obligation as the Crown Prince of Emburn. It also helps that he has his own agenda in finding the Queen. Although he has yet to reveal even to the Emperor that he has found the Princess. 

The only person in this realm who is related to the Queen. 

Yet revealing this will only make his work harder. It may also steal any precious time that he can share with you before he would have to reveal everything and involve you in the entire spectacle. The things that you barely have any knowledge of as someone who is still unfamiliar with the realm, and absolutely no clue of your true family lineage. 

Stepping out of the main palace to make his way out into the Eden Isle Gardens — the place where he would always be able to find solace — Yoongi can already sense the heaviness lingering in the air. It might be his own agitation that is making him feel this way, he realises, but it feels unsettling how hard it is for him to shake this feeling off. 

Especially when he notices that this agitation has only been escalating after the unpleasant time he just shared with the Empress. He could barely get himself together when he walked out of the Empress’s parlour. The scents from the wild flowers and the sycamore leaves are still clinging heavily all over him, keeping his thoughts rooted to the conversation that he had with the Empress even as he is walking far away from it. 

Even thinking back to the conversation he had with his father cannot help erase the edginess that is lingering in his chest. If any, it is only making him feel more restless. 

He should be out there right now, to reconvene with his mercenary army and start gathering new information from his men. But he is currently not in the right mind to be acting like the strict captain of the brotherhood that his men have known him to be. Not one that would fit to wear the crest and the disguise of a commoner when his mind is filled with matters involving Emburn and the weight of the crown. 

Yoongi also knows that he won’t be able to focus when his mind is occupied in trying to understand what the Empress is planning to do. He knows that his mother would stop at nothing to make sure that he takes the throne, only that she seems to want Yoongi to do it under her terms. 

It is during times like this that Yoongi feels grateful for having the mercenary army working under his command. Being only the Crown Prince — one with little to no power or enough privilege to meddle with other kingdoms’ business — makes it impossible for Yoongi to directly investigate the issues on his own. 

Not to mention, having the responsibility of protecting his own identity before he could finally take over the throne forces him to hold back from exposing himself the these foreign kingdoms. That includes passing through various borders and entering foreign territories as much as he wants.  

And it’s not like they would easily welcome him had he travelled under the Emburn Empire’s flag either. 

Which is why Yoongi has been sending out his men to investigate on his behalf. Moving around in small groups of army men, the Brotherhood of Jorn has been able to travel through the fairy tale realm to gather all the information that Yoongi needs. 

Hiding under the guise of a mercenary group that isn’t tied to any ruling kingdom, the common people have been able to welcome the men of his brotherhood with open arms. Most would find themselves becoming more open to sharing not only the most current gossip spreading around the land, but also the most confidential subjects that Yoongi and his men from Emburn would have missed. 

As a matter of fact, the day he met you in Grimm was actually one of the rare times that Yoongi had to spend traveling to these places himself. Reports from his men about the situation in Grimm had just reached him, and he decided that he had to witness it himself to figure out what exactly was happening.

And he didn’t like what he was seeing. 

Grimm, among some other places where the most prosperous farmlands existed, was beginning to experience some sort of a peculiar plague. 

The rivers were drying. Crops were rotting long before the farmers could get the chance to harvest. Little children and old folks were starting to fall ill. Farm animals have stopped producing and many have fallen into a peculiar sickness which no scholar could solve. 

Yoongi wouldn’t have believed it had he not been there to see it for himself. He had even spent time asking around to find more details from the local farmers. Seeing is believing, and he was beginning to realise that his father might have been right about the realm being affected by the imbalance of nature. 

His investigation that day may have led him nowhere, seeing that he wasn’t able to acquire more information from his visit to the farmlands. Yet he would never be able to regret the long hours he spent that day at Grimm. Not when he gained something good from his outing at the end of the day. 

He wasn’t lying when he said that fate must have had something to do with you crossing his path that day. Because unlike the other times when he had to be sneaky and use magic to track you down, fate itself — and the magic portals — had brought you straight to him for a change when he least expected it. 

Yoongi was in the middle of dealing with the farmers who were confiding with him about the failing crops when he felt a disturbance in the air; the ripples of magic which could have only happened when a magic portal was activated. 

Soon after, before he could make up his mind to find you, you appeared right before his eyes. 

Like a mirage. A gift from fate. The perfect distraction that had come at the perfect time that it felt like a blessing to have you there. 

As Yoongi enters the Eden Isle Gardens, revelling in the subtle ripple of magic welcoming him in his secret place of solitude, Yoongi begins to hold out hope that fate will be on his side again today.

Taking shelter at the center gazebo, Yoongi takes a seat and turns his gaze towards the portal gate before him. None of these portals would lead him to find you, as they are gateways that would only open under the Emperor’s commands. Only the Emperor holds the key to these portal gates connecting Emburn to other kingdoms that are part of an old alliance formed by the former Emperors of Emburn and the Royal Council ruling the empire. 

Yet here he is, sitting at the same place where he always finds himself when he needs a moment of reprieve. The same place where he was sitting that many years ago. 

This is where he would find solitude and peace, embracing the silence as he escapes from reality. To forget his troubles even if for a brief moment, and slow himself to be taken back to the past, reminiscing the events and the conversation that happened and shared on the night fate turned his life around. 

But there is another reason why he finds himself sitting here today. 

The sun is still high, not exactly the usual time that he would normally choose to be hiding away in this place. Yet the energy that has been luring him into the magic gardens has been so strong, just as strong as the memory that has been pulling him back to this place.

Once again, Yoongi finds himself being captivated by the same portal gate that has always drawn his curiosity. The portal gate that has been permanently locked, guarded by the Emperor’s spell. 

On the other side of the portal lies the fallen empire and the barren landscape that was left from the tragedy that happened many years ago. The crawling white mist that Yoongi would sometimes see creeping from beneath the gate is the only thing left of the opulent empire that once was. 

Other times, looking at the portal gate and the darkness beyond had left him with an eerie feeling. An uneasiness that was created not only by the stories that Yoongi had learned about the past, but also from the haunting dreams that he has been getting since the first time he returned to Emburn. 

And yet, for some reason, as Yoongi keeps his eyes on the locked gate, none of the shadows and the dark mist lurking from behind the gate feels alarming. The energy that the gate is emitting feels enchanting, like an alluring spell that makes it hard for Yoongi to ignore. Somehow, the energy feels different today. It feels oddly comforting. A feeling that he has never felt coming from that specific portal gate before, yet utterly welcome. 

What is happening, he wonders to himself as he silently questions why it seems as if the portal gate is trying to lure him in. 

Leaning against one of the lean pillars under the gazebo, Yoongi is suddenly overcome with exhaustion. The day has yet to reach past noon, yet it already feels like he has already had a long one. 

Having no desire to leave this place and let this brief moment of reprieve slip out of his hand, Yoongi chooses to remain here a bit longer. His duties are waiting for him, Yoongi knows this fact well. Soon enough, he knows that he is going to hear from one of his men — or Yijeong — coming with new reports from their investigation through the realms. Yet he cannot find it in him to care. 

Yoongi moves to the small bench at the center, closing his eyes as he reclines back and tries to relax. In the silence that engulfs him moments later, he allows himself to take everything in, allowing the warm breeze to take him away. Into another place where he could imagine himself being with you. 

Somewhere in a place where he wouldn't have to face his future obligations and the entire ordeal regarding the Emperor’s throne, and you wouldn't have to worry about revealing the secrets of your family bloodline. 

“Why do I feel like I’ve known you for a long time? I know it’s weird, but each time we talk, it feels more like I’m talking to an old friend.” 

He recalls that late afternoon in Grimm, when you said those words to him. The day he sat across from you at the old tavern which has become the secret rendezvous spot for him and his brotherhood. The innocent smile you gave him nearly broke every bit of resolve that he had. The truth hung desperately on the tip of his tongue while he spoke to you, and his guilty conscience has been following him since, chastising him for keeping everything from you. 

Because for Yoongi, you weren’t exactly strangers. Not on the first day he came across your path in Narlès. Not even on the days he was secretly following — or, in Yijeong’s words, stalking — you in various places. 

He knows that you wouldn’t have had any recollection of the day the two of you met for the first time. You were still too young, too little, too gullible to the happenings occurring all around you. Yoongi was also nothing more but a mere little child back then, and sometimes he would wonder if the memory that he has of that night is real. That it wasn’t a dream, nor was it simply a vivid imagination which he conjured to feel hope. 

For many years, Yoongi has felt isolated from the world. Isolated by his own memory, as he had no one else who remembered that day as he always did. No one to witness what happened or to hear the conversation that was shared. 

He remembers how difficult it was to even convince Yijeong about your existence. Because the rest of the realm never seemed to know of your existence, nor had they ever become aware of what happened that day between Yoongi, the missing Queen, and you. 

“There was never a report of Queen Milena having a child,” Yijeong had told him that night when Yoongi first revealed to him about your existence. 

It was the night when Yijeong, disguised in his black cat form, came to join Yoongi here in the magic gardens. The first ripple of the magic from the portals started luring Yoongi’s soul, alarming him of your movement for the first time, and he had to reveal to Yijeong why it mattered to him to find you. 

At first, Yijeong remained in denial. He had believed that he knew everything there was to know about Queen Milena and refused to believe that there was something that he may have missed. Even after coming across your path back in Smotia, long before Yoongi had the opportunity to experience such a blessing, Yijeong still couldn’t accept what Yoongi was trying to say. 

“I’ve studied everything there was to know about the missing Queen, ever since you told me to look for her on behalf of His Majesty Emperor Aymon, but never once have we ever heard about a child.” 

Yoongi had first bit his lips, affected by the doubts that Yijeong had about you, only to then make up his mind and remind his friend, “Have you forgotten? By the time everyone had their eyes and minds off of the war against my father’s alliance, the Queen was already taken.”

The silence that fell after was almost deafening. Yet Yijeong’s comprehension was clear when he spoke, “And only you knew about the Queen’s child.” 

Yoongi could sense the uncertainty in his friend’s voice. There was scepticism that followed every word he spoke, yet Yijeong was still open to listening. That alone was enough for Yoongi to continue, 

“And the Emperor. My father was there when the child came to this realm with the Queen for the first time.” 

As he sat at the gazebo that night, looking over the desolated path leading towards the restricted portal gate connecting his home with the fallen empire, his memory brought him back to the past. Just like always. 

Just like now.

It feels like a lifetime ago when Yoongi, still the gullible child that he was, sat down at this very same seat at the heart of the gazebo together with one of his father’s guests. His father, who was still in the process of preparing himself to take over the throne from the previous Emperor, had welcomed some special guests that day. 

It was a meeting between alliances that was done behind the Royal Council’s knowledge. Even the reigning Emperor of the time had no knowledge of what was transpiring prior to Emperor Aymon’s crowning ceremony. Yoongi was too young to understand the reason behind such secrecy. Yet now that he is older, he has begun putting the dots together, even if the Emperor is still trying to keep him in the dark about what was actually happening then. 

Yoongi remembers watching his father strolling down the walkway after the gathering, heading towards the portal gates with the last of his remaining guest — the man whose face Yoongi can barely remember after so many years have passed. At the time, young Yoongi had remained in this very same gazebo, accompanying the Emperor’s other guest, the soft-spoken woman whom his father had claimed to be a childhood friend who was special to him. 

The woman, who was the Crown Princess of a neighbouring empire at the time, hadn’t been alone. It was the reason why Yoongi was made to stay with her, and how he was so drawn to be with her instead of following his father around the garden like he used to.

“She’s so small,” Yoongi still remembers saying those words while being completely in awe, while the Crown Princess, Her Highness Milena, was humming to herself, completely transfixed at something else which had caught her eyes. 

Yoongi had reached out to the small bassinet that was placed next to the Crown Princess, and immediately, he had pudgy little fingers wrapping themselves around his, surprising both him and Princess Milena. 

“How fascinating,” Yoongi recalls hearing her whisper softly. 

“What?” 

Young Yoongi was confused, unable to understand what was so fascinating about a small baby reaching out to grab his hand. 

But Yoongi can easily remember now that it hadn’t been the contact between the two little children which had amused her so. It was the sparkle of blue and silver dust that grew around the entwined fingers which had charmed Princess Milena. A sign that the simple contact had brought forth a flow of mana that was growing so strong while connecting the two of them.

“What is this?” Yoongi sputtered in shock, unable to understand what was going on, while the Princess remained calm.  

“It’s okay, little Prince. This is a sign from Fate,” Princess Milena mused to him as she brought her hand gently onto Yoongi’s to stop him from pulling away in panic. “It means that your souls are connected. This is quite rare to happen, especially in this time of age.” 

Yoongi didn’t completely understand and could only ask her, “What does that mean?” 

A long time has passed since then, yet Yoongi still remembers the fond smile that she gave him as she clasped her hand around Yoongi’s and her baby’s tiny fingers, keeping them entwined together until the sparkles of magic dust slowly faded. 

“It means,” Princess Milena gently said as she turned her gaze from Yoongi’s curious one to her baby’s face, who was smiling goofily at Yoongi, “The two of you are bonded by Fate. Our ancestors call this bond as ‘love-mates’, yet we mostly refer to this as a soulmate bond.” 

The Queen turned to Yoongi once more, just as he felt his fingers growing warm with the tingle that came together with the sparkle of mana rising between them. The baby girl inside the bassinet was still giggling and cooing to herself as her eyes found Yoongi again, drawing his attention to her just as the Queen whispered, “You are soulmates. You, little Prince, and my little Princess, my precious lily flower, are bonded for life.” 

Yoongi opens his eyes as the warmth that he feels from his memory begins surging through his hand — the same hand that was clasped under the gentle hold of Queen Milena’s hand and your clutching fingers. The feeling is real, intense, and it goes all the way up to his arm. 

Almost as if the flow of mana has been awakened by his memory.

But as he looks down on his hands, Yoongi knows better than to believe that his memory of your touch is the only reason behind this sensation. This is the sign that he has been waiting for. The sign that can only come from the portals, letting him know that there is someone who is activating the magic to allow them to pass through.

Judging from the way his amulet is also responding to the ripples of energy that are now spreading all around him, he knows that the only person who could be behind this phenomenon would be you.

Dragging his eyes away from the locked portal gate before him, Yoongi turns and hastily starts making his way out of the magic gardens. His heartbeat is racing rapidly in his chest. At the thought of finally being able to see you again, Yoongi feels elated. The funk that he has found himself in all day melts away. Hope starts to rise with every step he takes to get out of this place. 

Yoongi has kept his personal portal gate hidden inside his bedchamber, and the journey back seems so far away. He wishes that he had the same ability as Yijeong — to shapeshift into another form to his desire and grow some wings so he could speed up. 

With fast strides, Yoongi soon arrives at the Lumina Apex Hall, the small private building connecting the magic gardens to the royal garden which is more accessible to anyone else residing in the Palace. Closing the glass door behind him, Yoongi walks past the pond of silver fairy dust to make his exit, only to come to a halt. 

As he turns towards the main entrance door, he finds that the royal guards who were supposed to be waiting for him and guarding the place are no longer present. 

Instead, standing by the entrance door is one of the guests that Yoongi has been working so hard to avoid. 

Princess Celestyna stands between the trailing stickweed vine growing around the archway of the entrance door of the Hall. Wearing a slim-fit, ankle-length day dress in a mix of soft peach and ivory, the second Princess of Kosha Empire appears completely out of place in front of the dark-coloured vines and the smoky shadow glass walls. 

Yet her smile is bright, and her expression starts growing even brighter once her eyes fall on Yoongi who is walking carefully to approach her. 

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” she greets Yoongi with a formal curtsy, “I am Princess Celestyna of Kosha Empire, here to greet the Crown Prince of Emburn.” 

Yoongi bites his tongue, swallowing down the rude retort threatening to spill out. He dislikes it the most when someone who is clearly uninvited dares to step foot in a place that is considered sacred by his people. Not even the royal guards would dare to step foot inside the Lumina Apex Hall without his orders. 

But the Princess is a guest to the empire — a special guest to Empress Ariane, to be exact. The last thing that Yoongi needs is to have the Empress breathing down his neck about disrespecting her guest. 

Yoongi nods and waits until the Princess straightens back up before asking, “How did you get here?” He looks around, noticing that the royal guards that he assigned to stay close have officially left their station without his knowledge. “Where are the guards?” 

“I came here because I wanted to see you, Your Highness,” the Princess answers gracefully with a coy smile on her face. The fact that she is completely disregarding his question about the guards isn’t lost to him when she continues, “The Empress sent me at my request to see you. I know that you are a busy man, but Her Majesty has also proposed for us to spend time together while we have the chance to so that we can get to know each other.” 

Yoongi resists the urge to groan and roll his eyes. He should have known that expressing his thoughts openly with the Empress this morning would only lead to this. He had known that the Empress was up to something. He just didn’t think that she would be initiating her ploy so soon after their altercation. 

“How splendid,” Yoongi says instead with a bite in his voice that is barely noticeable and a forced smile on his face. “Why don’t we find someplace else to talk? Somewhere that would be more comfortable?” 

Just not here, he muses to himself, as he is eager to get the Princess out of this place. 

“Excellent,” Princess Celestyna excitedly says. While she seems happy that Yoongi agrees to spend time with her, Yoongi himself feels bitter. He says nothing as she steps aside, urging Yoongi to walk ahead. “Please lead the way, Your Highness.” 

Swallowing down his bitterness, Yoongi steps forward to make his exit and lead the way out of the Hall. He has his mind set on taking the Princess to the outdoor patio in the royal gardens — just anywhere but here — that he fails to notice the Princess as she suddenly makes a move. He obviously wasn’t expecting her to match his pace and for her to be sliding her arm around his elbow as she walks out of the Hall with him.

As if they are old friends. Or whatever it is that the Empress is trying to mould them to be. 

Having no desire to cause trouble between him, the royal guests, and the Empress, Yoongi chooses not to push her away and fight it. He keeps his silence as he politely escorts the Princess towards the royal gardens. The arm that the princess is holding feels cold, while the surge of energy that he feels on his other arm grows stronger that he has to clench his hand tightly by his side to stop it from trembling. 

As he continues to walk away from the Hall, going the opposite way from the portal inside his bedchamber that is no doubt already glimmering in response to your magic, Yoongi feels — for the first time ever — the distance between you growing further.

As if he is an entire universe away from you. 

— © 2024 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[simplydannie]

Inspired by and written for @veneerandvelvet! Thank you for helping me when I needed it ❤️ Also, the small fish plushy was inspired by @saucytango idea in an piece she did!!

During a night out, the twins are left with their aunt: Cressida…. Who has been doing something horrible to Veneer…

One night, their parents come home early and catch Cressida during her act of rage. Sometimes the word “family” doesn’t mean anything to some…

“Do we have to go Aunt Cressida’s?” Veneer asked as he fiddled with his stuffed fish toy. It was a gift Velvet had given to him after Sparkles died, it was the only thing that comforted him…and the only thing that still does when his sister wasn’t around. “Me and Velvet and stay by ourselves for a little bit. We’re older now.”

Their father gave a small chuckle in the front seat, “Oh yes. At seven years old your old enough to stay by yourself and drive.”

“Really?” Veneer exclaimed.

“Ven, we know you and your sister can manage by yourselves. It’s always nice to have an adult watch you…Especially you Veneer. God forbid, you need someone to take you to the hospital.” Their mother responded.

He sighed. Veneer hated going to their aunt’s…she was horrible. He shouldn’t hate her. He should love her; she was their mother’s sister after all. But she did things to him he never told his parents… especially Velvet. He turned to look at his sister; she was coloring in her book. She felt her brother's eyes and turned to face him.

”What?”

“…nothing…” He turned away.

Velvet arched an eyebrow. He always got weird whenever they went to their aunts, something he’d tried to hide but became more obvious.

“What happened to your eye?” She asked one day as they headed back home.

“I fell down. Aunt gave me ice.”

“When did you fall?”

“I just fell, Velvet.”

He never raised his voice at her, but that day he did, which meant only one thing…something was bothering him and he was lying. They drove up into the drive that was their aunts. Velvet gathered her things and got down before anyone.

”I’ll help Vennie mom!” She chimed. Her mother smiled and headed to the front door with her husband to greet her sister. Veneer grabbed his toy, books, and his backpack that connected to the tube around his nose. Velvet stopped him before he could get down.

”You better tell me what’s bothering you?” She demanded.

”W-what?” He asked a little taken back.

“Something has been bugging you. Actually, EVERYTIME we come to aunt Cressida’s you get like this. So what’s going on?” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him right in the eye. Veneer did his best not to avoid her stare, if he did, she’d definitely know something was wrong. He held her gaze for as long as he could…then she caved in.

”Fine. But I'm going to be watching you closely. So no lying!” She helped him down and headed towards their parents at the front door.

”…And he has a backpack now. It has his oxygen inside so it’s easier to carry around. He’s still getting used to, so he’ll want to take it off. Please make sure he has it on.” Their mother was explaining to their sister. Cressida stood leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. She eyed the twins as they neared them…she looked at them coldly, as if they were strangers, not her niece and nephew.

“Do they have things to keep them entertained?” She asked coldly.

“Oh yes! Of course! They brought their toys and coloring books.” Their mother smiled. Cressida moved aside, her gesture of signaling the twins inside. Their mother and father knelt down to give them kisses and hugs.

“We’ll be back in a couple hours.” His father scuffled Veneer’s hair. He watched his parents take off, waving as they exited the driveway.

“Well? Inside!” Their aunt screamed. Velvet entered holding her brother's hand, bringing him in closer to her. Like she said, she was going to keep a close eye on him. When they entered the home, a strange Rageon man was sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette, watching TV. He turned to eye the twins.

“Who the hell?” He commented.

“My sister’s brats. You two. To the room. Just stay there until your parents come home. I don’t feel like putting up with your shit today. And don’t you dare close the door! God, knows what mischief you two will do.” Cressida demanded. She didn’t need to tell Velvet twice. Grabbing her brother's hand tighter Velvet led them to the room they normally stayed in with their aunt.

“That guy gave me the creeps.” Veneer commented once they entered the room.

“We’ll just stay in here and upstairs until mom and dad get home. Oh! Did you bring Janga?” Velvet asked. Veneer giggled and pulled out the set. “Yes!”

The hour went by as the twins played Janga using various games and techniques they came up with on their own. Little did they know as time went by, as the more fun they had, they grew louder and louder. Cressida was sitting on top of his lap, kissing him when they heard the laughter and giggles coming from upstairs.

The man grunted, “Those kids better shut up soon!” Cressida grumbled and got off his lap.

“I’m on it.”

“That’s five points for me!” Velvet giggled.

“No! That was my point. You cheated on that one!” Veneer stated.

“WHAT THE HELL!” The twins jumped at the sound of their aunts voice.They turned to face her as she stood at the doorway, arms crossed. ”I SWEAR TO GOD VENEER IF YOU DON’T KEEP IT DOWN, YOU’LL REGRET!” She stormed back downstairs.

“Why did she only blame you? We were both being loud.” Velvet said with an annoyance in her voice.

Veneer waved it off, “It’s okay. Oh! Why don’t we play buried treasure!”

“There are not much places to hide treasure around here, Veneer.”

”We’ll make it work!” He dug around her backpack to find something small. “Got it! Okay, stay here and make the map! I’ll go hide this!” He began to head off.

”Veneer.” Velvet scolded. He turned back around sheepishly to face her. She pointed to his oxygen backpack on the floor. “Remember what mom said.” Rolling his eyes he went over to grab his backpack and put his tubing back on. He then ran out the door and headed to explore the upstairs portion of the house to find a place to hide the treasure. He went into a room… It had a boiler and some electrical outlets.

“Oh! She won't think of looking in here.” He said to himself. He tiptoed in. It was dark so he tried feeling for a switch that might power some light. His hands felt something…

CLICK.

The whole power in the house went out.

“Huh?” Velvet exclaimed as she was back in the room drawing the map. She heard a scream from the bottom of the stairs.

“SON OF A BITCH! WHO TURNED THE DAMN POWER OFF!” The male Rageon yelled. Uh oh, she thought it herself. Where did Veneer go? Velvet made her way towards the door when she heard Cressida come upstairs. She could hear the frustration and anger under her breath.

“Vennie!” Her walked turned in a sprint, she slipped and fell on her elbow. A pain steering through. It took a her moment before she heard it…

“THE HELL VENEER! YOU RUINED MY DATE NIGHT! NOW HE’S GONE! YOU STUPID, STUPID IDIOT!” Cressida screamed at the top of her lungs. She heard the commotion, the resistance.

“I- I am sorry…” She heard her brother say. “Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

“Vennie!” Velvet ignored the pain in her elbow and ran out the door, straight to Cressida. She had Veneer by his hair, tears streaming down his face. “Aunt Cressida, stop it! It was an accident!” Velvet went to pull her arm. Cressida turned towards her. She firmly grasped her by the arm and pulled her back to the room. Cressida threw her and locked the door from the outside.

“Aunt Cressida please stop!” Tears began falling down Velvet’s face as she heard the pleas and cry from her brother. “Please leave him alone! Mommy! Daddy!” Velvet banged the door…Veneer continued to beg and cry.

“Well, we may be a bit earlier than expected. I’m sure my sister wouldn’t mind it though.” Their mother said jokingly. They drove up into the driveway, the house completely dark.

“Was she going to take the kids somewhere?” Their father asked turning off the engine. They both stepped out of the car….

“Stop it!”

They heard screaming coming from the inside. They knew Cressida had company, now their fear was that he was hurting her…or their children. The twins' parents ran to the front door…it was left open. Once they entered they could hear the commotion and screams more clearly coming from upstairs.

“Mommy! Daddy!” They heard Velvet’s voice.

“My babies..” Their mother ran up the stairs…That’s when she saw her own sister beating down on her son. “CRESSIDA!” Their mother ran and tore away her sister from Veneer. The force she used knocked Cressida off her feet, her eyes wide in horror… she didn’t expect them to be back so early.

“Vennie. Sweetheart, I’m here, I’m here.” She embraced him, his face bruised and bleeding. If looks could kill, Cressida would have been dead. “How dare you!”

“Mommy? Daddy?” Their father followed Velvet’s voice. He unlocked the door to find his daughter with tears in her eyes. He knelt down and embraced her tightly. He glanced at Cressida with hate in his eyes.

“Let’s go. You are never seeing or touching my children ever again!” He scooped up Velvet in his arms, he extended his hand to his wife. “Let’s go. Let’s go before I get really mad and do something I regret.” He told her, practically begging her to leave while he still had some sort of control. She nodded. Scooping up Veneer and his backpack in his arms, she followed her husband down the stairs.

“My fishy!” Veneer extended his arm towards his stuffed fish still laying in the room. His father quickly ran in and grabbed it for him.

“Vivian let’s go.” He said.

Their mother turned around and spat at her sister.

”…I trusted you…My god, Cressida I trusted you!” She yelled.

”Vivian.” Their father called to his wife who was still up the stairs, holding on tightly to Veneer.

”How? Why? They’re family.” Tears stung her eyes, “We’re family Cressida!”

But there was no love for any of them in Cressida’s heart…. The only one she had felt love for… She glanced down the stairs towards their father…But he had chosen her sister instead. She hated her, she hated her little spawns as well, especially Veneer…he reminded her so much of him, their father.

“Get out.” Cressida spat. Their mothers heart broke as she saw no love in her sister’s eyes. Was there any love ever? Vivian always loved Cressida, always cared for her…her only sister.

”Vivian. Please.” Her husband called out. Holding Veneer close she ran down the stairs to join him. They both held each of their children as they went to their car. Their father placed Velvet in the back.

“I want to ride with them.” Their mother said. He touched her face and nodded. He got into the driver's seat and drove off. She didn’t bother buckling them in, she held each one close in her arms, tears falling down her face, and she placed a kiss on each of their heads.

”I’m so sorry my babies. She’s my sister. I thought I could trust her.”

“It’s okay, mommy.” They said in unison, holding her close and tight.

“….I think she was hurting Vennie for a while…” Velvet whispered. Their father looked in the rear view mirror meeting his eyes with his wife’s.

“What?” She looked down at her son, his face slowly starting to swell where she hit him. “Vennie, and you didn’t say anything?”

“…I didn’t want to ....she’s family.”

“No…No sweety, family does NOT do that to each other. Do you hear me?” She held his little face in both her hands. She placed a kiss on his forehead. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry.” She hugged them both again.

“No one is ever going to touch you again like that. Not while me and your mother are still around. You hear that.” Their father exclaimed… No one would ever touch his babies again…