#they wanted nothing more than to hear their daughter take a deep breath and cry for life but she could only ever whimper

[impossible-rat-babies]

me staring at eyrie’s family being a metaphor for differences in grief and thus how grief changes/stagnates/brings out the worst in people like we’re gonna keep creating the same dynamics huh brain

[non-stop-imagines]

Can we please have a blurb for my biggest fan where the baby has her first Karting lesson or event and she's scared so she goes crying to charles for comfort.

I love hearing from you and I love this idea. And I love Dad!Charles. 😚💕

Karting Woes

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Black Mom!Reader

Word Count: maybe 400 words (I didn't check) and an insta smau

Warning: Fluff, truly just fluff, Dad!Charles that we all deserve, Gia crying and being worried, a cute little ending 😘

A/N 3: man petite souris = my little mouse;

______♥_____

"Okay, okay. Let's go find Charles." You and Gia weaved your way through the crowd of children of various ages and their parents, knowing you would find Charles with Gia's kart, looking it over one last time. Gia was holding your hand tightly as you guided her through the crowd, but she immediately lets go and scurries over to Charles once she sees him, tears streaming down her face.

"Petite souris, why the tears?" He picked her up and lets her arms wrap tightly around his neck as he gave you a wide eyed look, briefly glancing at the crying child in his arms.

"She just came to me and said she needed to talk to you." You take a step closer to run your hand down the two braids that you had put in your daughter's hair.

"I can't remember *hic* where to break *hic* and the racing line *hic* for turn 3. And-and I don't know if I-I'm gonna do good and that if I-I d-don't do good you and m-mama will be mad..." Charles is quick to hush the spiralling child in his arms.

"Woah, woah. Okay. First, breathe. Here put your hand on my chest." He took her tiny hand and placed it on this chest, then began to take a long breath in, allowing his chest to lift exaggeratedly so the child knew to follow suit. Gia tried, but continued to suck in small gasps of air, a bit further from the verge of crying, but still in the verge. So Charles placed her back on the ground, kneeling so he could be eye level with her, and engulfed both of her hands in his to bring them to his chest. "Ah, try again, mon petit souris. In..." This time she does as told, taking a deep, long, exaggerated breath in, puffing out her cheeks and raising her shoulders in the process which made you look over and see that Charles had done the same. Charles then counted to 5 with his fingers before letting out his breath, the small child mimicing the action. "Better?" Gia nods while Charles brings his hand down one of her braids, guiding the end in front of her shoulder. "Okay. Now, what is this about me and your mom being mad at you?"

"That if I don't good you and Mama will be mad at me..." Gia played with her fingers as she quietly spoke, looking up at Charles after receiving a light kiss on the top of her head.

"Gianna...are you having fun?" You daughter nods and Charles continues. "You want to go out there and try your very best, oui?" Another nod. "Well, then there is nothing your mom could be mad about. This is your first race, mon petit souris. All we want is for you to go out there, learn, and have a good time. Bon?" His hands had traveled back down to your daughter's, grasping them and gently wiggling her arms.

"Bon. But, but what what about my nerves?" You're daughter's little voice chirped, making you want to cry more than you already wanted to.

"You being nervous means you care, and it is the greatest doing something you care so much about, I promise." He brings Gia into him for a hug and rapid fire light kisses on the top of her head. "And the, uh, second thing?" Charles knew exactly what the second concern was for your daughter but he liked allowing Gia to voice her own concerns. It has saved the both of you many whiney tantrums.

"Turn 3. I can't remember the racing line or where to brake." Gia takes a flat hand and rubs some pieces of hair back that were tickling her forehead as she turned toward the track, pointing at the curve in question.

"Okay, let's go take a look." Charles stands straight up and hold out his hand that Gia quickly accepts. What you don't expect was for Gia's other hand to blindly reach out for yours, which you take, following them to the track so he could go over the information again. Gia held on to your hand with an unwavering grip as she watched Charles' hand move fluidly to give visual to his instruction, her full attention on him, nodding intermittently as he spoke. And you watched to, but your mind blocked out the words and only observed how your boyfriend's hands mimiced the curve and the motion of driving, seeing how his bracelets and rings made the image that much sweeter for you. The sight was what dreams were made of, as a mother and a girlfriend.

"You feel a little better about that corner?" Charles turns back to Gianna who was nodding up at him.

"Yeah, I feel better." Gia turns briefly to look at you and then turns back to Charles quickly as if she forgot something. "Oh! Merci, Charles." You let go of Gia's hand so Charles could pick her up again.

"De rien, ma petite souris." He looked at her as she continued to analyze the tricky curve. Proud to be here in this moment with her and for her to trust him so much, and wondering what he did in his life to deserve this. "Do you still need to finish your warm up? Have you done the bands yet?" Gia shakes her head, her small braids whipping around. "Alright, let's go."

"I'm gonna head back to the chairs." You decide to give them their bonding time, stopping to give Charles the kiss he leaned in for after setting Gia back on the ground.

"Okay, I'll be over there in a minute." One more kiss and then he was off with your daughter back to the white tents being used as garages, your daughter now skipping along having forgotten all of her woes from minutes before.

______♥_______

You watched as all the kids began to line up on the grid, with Gia lining up P11, her vibrant pink helmet and red race suit combination not making it difficult to point her out. Charles' arms snaked around your waist, making you flinch but settle into his body once you saw it was him. "How was she?"

"She was fine. I don't even think she remembers what she was nervous about." You let out a singular breathy chuckle as he gave you small pecks behind the ear, everyone now waiting for the race to begin. "I think she'll do fine."

"You're a good dad, you know?" You meant your words, but you knew that they would have Charles floating on Cloud 9, probably for the rest of the week. You knew how much he liked being a dad and how much he cared about being a good father figure to Gianna, so sometimes you would just remind him that he was doing a good job. You also liked to see how flustered he got.

He brought his fingers to your chin to guide your face to look at him, a cheeky grin on your face that he couldn't help but kiss. "Merci, ma cherie." You both turn back to the track as the your daughter's first race begins.

yourusername

Liked by susie_wolff and 98,389 others

yourusername I'd say going from 11th to 6th in your first race is pretty good. Mama is so proud of you Gia. 😚♥️

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 173 comments

charles_leclerc Super proud ♥️♥️

>yourusername Super proud of you for not crying for too long after she crossed the finish line 😘

>charles_leclerc She did so good 😭😭

user1 So proud of our baby!🥳

>yourusername Gia says thank you to all of her internet aunties and uncles 😁

susie_wolff You have to bring Gia out to practice with Jack sometime!

>yourusername Booking the flight right now! I would take any chance I can get to spend some time with the Wolff's ♥️

>susie_wolff Text me so we can set it up!! ♥️♥️

>user2 I don't think the world would survive the power surge that would be produced from these two linking up

scuderiaferrari We love a good Lewink 😉

>yourusername Any day you get a Lewink is a good day 😘

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Clot | Joel Miller

summary: joel has lost something. but once he pieces himself back together, he'll remember what it is.

pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

ratings/warnings: mature. canon typical violence, mentions of blood and injury. mentions of a dead child (sarah), lots of grief, canon suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts. canon divergent. abby wants a cure and she’ll break up families to get it. joel losing a limb and hating himself for it. wanky formatting as a treat. reader has hair but is otherwise not described. no use of y/n.

wc: 3k

an: i can't edit this anymore, it's making me ugly cry.

Everything is hot, heavy, and delirious, 

                                    and Joel has lost something. 

A tight band is wound around his head, and it’s making him ache. It’s making his skin pull taught with blisters, wind and throb with thick blood. For so long, it’s all he can feel. Everything else is too dense.

His head revolves like a planet on strings, like it rolls on some unstoppable, destructive axis between galaxies. He doesn’t know if he shifts and pitches it, or if someone else does, or whether it really moves at all. The whole inside of his skull spins, and between deep, deep black and boiling red, he can feel the acid of that spin climb up his throat and dribble out his mouth. It burns and tastes foul, but he can do nothing to stop it. He can do nothing but spin and float somewhere both within and outside his body, and feel - more than know - that something is missing. 

There is something viscid around him, like he’s been wrapped and bound, like everything’s too tight and too thick. He can’t hear properly, which isn’t something new - but it’s deeper, soupy. It panics him, tightens the skin around his chest.

                                        He’s sure he’s drowning. 

He’s sure he’s drowning, but he doesn’t know how or why. All he knows is that it’s taking him too long to get back to his body, to surface, too long to remember something.

But he is so, so tired. And leaden, everything burning or burned - scarring and flaking and broken and agonising.

When he is something only close to conscious, something a hair away from lucid, he can feel himself twist in clinging sheets, can feel his fingers clutch at a mattress. He can feel broken bones unset themselves in blind fury and fear, can feel bloodlust and scorching wildfires of pain. He can sense loss which grows bone deep, a cavern he cannot turn his face from. High-pitched, too-fast breaths, a wisp of coconut against his chin. Something he hasn’t smelled in so long, something his arms ache to reach out to touch, to snatch, to hold. It’s a desperate feeling. It clings to his chest and cloys his breaths and drips through his ribs, sticky and tar-like, oozes down his body until it fixes him where he lays. He tries to move, he really does. But he can’t match the thoughts with his muscles, can’t see his body, can’t feel his brain. He needs to wake up. He needs to wake up. He needs to wake up he needs to wake up he needs to wake up

he needs to wake up, because he’s failing again. He’s losing again, something is slipping away again. High-pitched, quick, gasping breaths, the clutch of brown curls in his fist, coconut, the wet flash of her eyelashes against his neck, her fear, oh god, her fear, how scared they were, how scared she was, so scared he thought he’d be sick, the clutch of her hands as she pushed against him, as she tried and begged not to move, the blood so much blood the terror in her eyes i know i know i know

                            tommy help me 

come on babygirl, nothing nothing nothing he could do nothing but feel wet, warm blood rapidly cooling in the night air help me don’t do this baby come on please -

Come on, Tommy is saying, come on, we’ve gotta go.

But he can’t. His brother is there, his daughter is here. His body is welded to where he holds his girl in his arms, but his body is nowhere at all. His body is a gaping emptiness of a thing, and he thinks that alone in this vacuum, this grief, this misery, he might consume the whole universe and everything in it.

And he would not be sorry, to destroy the thing that took his baby away. He would not be sorry to destroy the coward who flinched from his own bullet.

                                           He has lost something.

Things are dark for a long time.

There are sounds that reach and pull to him, droplets of rain which patter quietly along roofs and find their way through gaps to drip and run towards him. If he were a body in the dirt, he would grow things. This would be new life. 

But he is not. Instead he absorbs and swallows and pays no attention except to the destruction of what is leaking into him. He gnashes at the darkness he is locked within, wrestles with the lumps of his heart.

When the tenor and tone of their voices becomes tangible, he can taste it.

He can taste the cigarettes he used to share with Tommy while their mama wasn’t looking, he can taste canned ravioli from out on the road to… somewhere. He cannot remember. He lets Ellie and Tommy soothe and lull him in and out of consciousness, lets the swell and tangle of their voices sew shut the gaping wound he has become. Something pulls, something tugs, something that is still missing. Joel searches for it in their muffled conversation, but he can’t summon it. Can’t get them to say it aloud until there is a familiar sound, a name, rough palm pressed to his aching head, a squeeze of a smaller hand to his, and Tommy is saying again come on, we’ve gotta go.

For the first time since the floating darkness began, Ellie’s voice stops. She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t sing. There’s no rhythmic sound of her sleepy breathing, no hollow tone of a guitar. The comfort and company he has heard in Tommy’s voice for days stops, too. He drifts in and out on the swell of a tide, grasping for purchase at a starless shore, and then Maria comes to his ear, quietly furious, outwardly heartbroken. He can’t understand what she’s saying, but he understands the intonation. 

Tommy has always loved so hard, been so loyal. Whatever the reason he’s disappeared, it must be good. And Ellie must have gone with him.

The knowledge brings him no peace, and his shapeless, fervid nightmares become worse.

Echoes of what Maria had said swirl around his brain like leaves circling a drain, illuminating with each dull thud of his tired heart. They’ve gone… they’ve gone… they’ve gone to…

He tries to grapple with it, he does - so hard. Gone to find - He feels like he should apologise. To Maria, for having some part in whatever idiot ploy Tommy has dragged himself and Ellie away into. To others. Faceless, nameless people who he waits to reveal themselves. To Sarah. Sarah.

                                                                      He has.

Every night he has apologised to his little girl for failing to keep her safe, for failing to die instead of her, with her. He has been on his knees beside his bed on so many nights, sobbing into his hands with his full body, the grief making his chest so unbearably tight, his throat raw, and even if he screamed for the rest of his life it would not be enough. It would not be enough. He has apologised to Ellie, so softened and so drowned in sadness that she had to forgive him. Pathetic, broken. But there’s someone else, someone else. A dark figure slouched in the corner, the dark smell of blood. Dark, dark, dark.

A small girl in a hospital gown, a gunshot echoing in an underground parking lot. The smell of her hair, pine needles lingering even after a wash. The heat and pressure of her against his chest.  No blood cooling in night air, but holding her just as tightly. The ache, the ache, the grief years in advance of what he’d have to confess, what he’d have to admit to her. They were gonna kill you. I cannot fail again. A tiny person curled up in a stream of light and grass, the twitch of something long broken in his heart. He knew, he knew even then I'm taking a ride with my best friend I hope he never lets me down again it’s okay babygirl it’s okay it's me i’m sorry i understand it's me i love you. The crack and bright of her grin through an astronaut's helmet, the scramble of limbs through a window. She’s not my kid, not my kid, my kid, my kid, my kid is dead, yeah she’s mine. My girl. Mighty and fierce and blood of my blood flesh of my flesh as close as she can be to -

The twitch of a limb which is no longer there. The phantom ache and strike of pain which should not be able to breach air. 

Without opening his eyes, he can tell. He does not know how long he has been out for, what drugs they gave him, but now, through this crack of bright in his skull he is beginning to understand. Sarah letting him go, Ellie bringing him back - come on, old man, you gotta work it out soon - it’s gone. His leg is gone. The dark, slouched figure in the corner. Smell of blood -

                            Where are you?

His breathing is so quick, so agitated, so panicked and wheezed, his body spasming so tightly that he hears Maria call for the doctor, for something beyond the grasp of his comprehension. He has lost something. He is useless - he will be nothing, he will rot. The people of Jackson will place him outside the wall because they would rather watch him crawl in circles in the dirt than let him back in, useless old man. If he has only one leg, he cannot keep people safe. He cannot patrol, he cannot ride, he cannot walk. He cannot stand to have anyone look at him like he is half a man, have Ellie look at him like she does not know who he is, have you, have you -

have you have you have where are you where are you where are you he wants to grab Maria’s hand where from its place on his mattress to ask her where are you but the doctor where is pressing something sharp into his where are shaking arm you. Hold him still, he says and Joel is powerless against the hands that find him. Useless old man who can no longer fight, no longer protect, and he is so disgusted with himself, so betrayed and overwhelmed by his body that he understands why you haven't been around because you must feel the same.

Disgusting, useless old man. Puckered with scars, beat up and burnt out and mutilated, and you have left you have gone and it clefts his heart in two, wet as the blood between your teeth as you chomp his chambers and arteries somewhere in Jackson, or worse, elsewhere entirely.

Somewhere else, somewhere else where he might never see you again. Something crawls down tendrils to scratch at his brain but he can’t pick at it enough before the burning and the pain and the panic fades again, the doctor’s needle working its magic.

Soft, easy breathing, your face turned to his, your hair tickling the crook of his arm. I love you. Every morning, your eyes so far away at first flutter and then sharp into his, barreling like no one ever had before i love you. A force he could never try to stop, a choice he never could make i love you the inevitability of the promise you made each other i love you, the soft of your hands on his cracked knuckles, the way his nose fits to your neck to breathe you in i love you.

                                                     I love you, be safe.

And through thick, rolling waves of fog, Joel begins to piece it together. He cannot remember what happened, where it came from. Who did it. But you were there. He remembers through dreams he cannot wake from, how you screamed and cried and begged and pleaded from the floor, your cheek pressed into the wood, blood leaking from your hairline. The rivulets of it running across your temple, your cheek, into your eye so it stained the white pink. Your eyes, so wide with terror. How bright, how red, how deep the blood had been. How pretty. The pool and glisten of it as it spread from him, your fingers scrabbling and slipping through it as you tried to reach for his hand. 

He remembers how hoarse you had been as you told them your name.

                                                 No. Not your name. 

Ellie, you’d said. Ellie. I’m who you’re looking for. The thrust of your forearm as you showed them the scarred and gnarled bite mark from the savages who had held you captive for the first years of the apocalypse. The chunk one of them had torn from you in a fit of fury. In low light, it looks little different to Ellie’s, and Joel thinks they must have no idea what the girl he took from the hospital looked like. 

                                 Because they took you instead.

They took you instead.

The shock of it is enough to reel Joel awake. Maria is sat at his bedside, keeping vigil over the man who looks so much like her runaway husband. She is the only one who sees him break this time, who witnesses the gaping, festering wound ripped open, the rot of the universe, the decay of his grief. The way he howls and gasps and cries and begs and pleads where is she i don’t know where are they i don’t know when are they coming back i don’t know i’m sorry joel i’m sorry i’m so sorry if i had known if we had known maria i’m sorry

He does not know how long they hold each other for. He does not know when Maria climbed onto the edge of his bed, does not know if there’s anything more that tethers him to this world than his sister-in-law's arms. 

When he wakes, he is cruelly alone and limitlessly hollow. The room is small and he can focus on nothing beyond that, beyond the press of the walls and how close it feels and the bloodied rags they are using to blot and clean his stump while it dribbles crimson. It’s still clotting, the doctor says, and Joel doesn’t care. He wants to bleed. He would rather die than stay here in this bed, knowing in his heart that you won't come home, won’t survive this. He won’t wait to see whether Tommy and Ellie make it back safely, because if he loses again, if he fails again, there will be nothing left. Empty shell of useless man.

He empties the thin contents of his stomach several times a day into a bowl they keep at his bedside. They pump him full of drugs and tell him eventually the pain will lessen and we’re already pleased with how you’re healing we’ll just keep you in here for a little longer even through he’s already been cooped up for weeks. He hasn’t been able to remember you for weeks. And it’s not his phantom limb, not his broken bones and torn skin he’s recoiling from.

Your screams as they dragged you from the floor, your own pain. Noises Joel had never heard you make before in all the years you’d been together, patrolled together, been at war together. Something awful and ragged and already broken leaving your throat as they hauled you out the door and up the stairs as Joel could only useless old man watch you be taken, watch you sacrifice useless yourself to save him, your family, Ellie and Tommy. Animalistic, strong, straining the tendons in your neck as you stretched to scream, your ankle flopping at a crooked angle, blood drip drip dripping and swiping along the floor, soaking into the wood and that’s all he can remember.

He couldn’t say anything to you, couldn’t help. Not even a last I love you. He had failed. Because he’d heard it in your scream - i love you i love you please stay alive please live just this last thing for me make it out get back to jackson back to ellie live long and be happy but don’t forget don’t forget don’t forget i love you don’t forget i was here and don’t forget nothing but this could drag me away i love you please be safe be alive - and he had forgotten. He had forgotten your promises in his blood and your cries, in your scar and your lie. You would not leave him. Not over a sawn off leg. But you would leave him so he and your girl would live, so he will. He will. He will push aside the maw of his heart and try to fill the space he knows he is wasting. The shift feels light and heavy in his chest. He doesn't know how to be happy in a world without you pulled tight to his chest every morning, but if it's what you ask, he will do it. He will live long and happy and he will sit at that gate every day to wait for you and Tommy and Ellie to come back. He will spend the rest of his life waiting and telling himself he is okay if that's what you want him to do. Don’t forget I love you. Don’t forget I was here.

Sat on the hospital bed, he opens the gape in his chest so it can begin to devour the universe again, to suck you back into his orbit, bring you back to him. He won’t forget again. And when he can, he will start his vigil. He will live long and happy and wait for you to come back, wait for you to smooth this pain to dullness, this ache, this tightness in his chest that makes it so hard to breathe. Wait for it to ease, to deaden. But for now, all he can do

                      is sit and wait 

                                                                 for the wound

                                                                                                                                       to clot.

[widowmaxff]

I’ve been having some bad days, could you write something where Y/N is having a rough week and pretends she’s fine except Wanda knows her daughter and comforts her?

I just love the way you write Wanda as a mother and that she just always knows

overwhelmed

pairings: mom!wanda maximoff × fem!reader

warnings: angst, reader crying, depressed reader — i think that's all!

a/n: tysm for your request love and im so sorry for your bad days, i really hope things get better for you and if you need someone to talk you can dm me, okay? <33

Interacting with any other human being was the last thing you wanted to do today. Saying that you had a bad week was an understatement, all the bad things that could happen to you happened. And not just things around you, but also your mind didn't stop for a second. You felt so overwhelmed that anyone could see on your face how much that week was hurting you.

"This can't be happening right now." You mumble as you feel the raindrops start to fall on your head. There was still more than half the way until you arrived at the Compound, you didn't have an umbrella, much less a coat to protect yourself from the cold that would come. No one could come and get you since everyone was busy and you didn't want to disturb your mother, she had enough problems to deal with yours.

You were coming home from school after another stressful day. You've spent the last few weeks studying for an incredibly difficult test, especially in a subject you had difficulty with, and seeing that big red note made your urge to cry even more. You studied so much that you thought it was impossible for that to happen. So many nights without having slept and so many energy drinks wasted for nothing.

You were absolutely soaked when you stepped into the Compound. Your sneakers made a funny noise when you stepped on them, but the only thing you wanted to do now was take them off your feet and throw them at the person closest to you, shouting in their face. "You're going to clean this up, Little Maximoff." Tony's annoying voice says, obviously joking, but still your head hurt just hearing that you had to do something that day. Your jaw tightens and you close your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.

"I know, Tony." You ramble, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible. You walk past him to head towards your room, feeling your eyes burn from having something else on your list of things that made your week worse than it already was.

On normal days the first thing you would do was go look for your mother in her office, but the last thing you wanted to do that day was worry her, because you knew that the moment she laid eyes on you she would know that something was wrong. And filling her with your problems would make you feel guilty for a long time, you hated making people feel sorry for you and looking like you were a baby. You just needed to calm down, didn't you?

"Fuck!" You scream when you see all your notebooks soaked, especially your sketchbook, which you spent hours and hours drawing. You drop your things on the floor and run your hands through your hair, taking a deep breath. You wished your mother was there now, she would know what to do and help you with whatever you needed to calm down, but you put that idea out of your head before you ran towards her arms.

You enter the bathroom connected to your room and take off your clothes before you catch a cold. The hot water from the shower makes your muscles finally relax after the terrible days you prayed would end. In a few seconds you no longer knew what water was or what the tears on your face were. All those things that happened in your week came together into one, and you started to feel like you were on that empty, dark hole that took you a long time to get out of. You thought that maybe the problem was you, that maybe you deserved all those bad things, from the smallest to the ones that made you cry and scream like that moment.

You didn't hear the knock on your door because your bad thoughts were so loud that it was almost impossible to even hear the shower water hitting the floor. But when Wanda entered her room after hearing no response, she felt like something was wrong at the moment. She looks at your completely wet things lying on the floor and frowns. You told your mom you didn't need a ride home from school, but apparently, you did.

"Honey, is everything okay?" When she heard the shower turning off after long minutes, she knocked on the bathroom door just to let you know she was there and see if everything was okay. "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." You say in a low voice, taking a deep breath. You knew that the moment you left the bathroom, your mother would know that your bad thoughts came back again, but you also knew that she wouldn't pressure you to say anything.

You close the bathroom door quietly, finally looking into Wanda's green eyes and seeing the worry through them. She held your backpack in her hands with her face confused at you, because she wouldn't think twice to get in the car and drive to you. "I was almost here at the Compound and the rain caught me." You chuckled, trying to hide your red eyes, your cheeks and the tip of your nose with the same color as your mother's hair.

"Are you okay, love?" She asks again, her face relaxed now. You put a fake smile on your face, but still with enormous affection for your mother.

"Yeah, just a little upset that my sketchbook got ruined, but it's okay." You don't completely lie. Yes, you were upset that your drawings would now have to go in the trash, but no, nothing was okay.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Wanda says approaching you. You just throw it away, muttering 'it's okay' but she wraps her arms around you, giving you a relaxing hug. Your mother leaves a long kiss on your head, making the urge to cry increase even more. You loved all the affectionate actions that your mother gave you, it made you feel so vulnerable and light. "Come on, let's get you something to eat, shall we?" You didn't like eating when you were feeling bad like that, you felt like you were going to throw up when you put anything in your stomach because of the anxiety, but you just agreed.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even notice when you arrived in the kitchen which, unfortunately, was made up of a few people. You felt so overwhelmed that being in the same environment as some people made you feel even worse. The small group of Avengers on your left irritated you. The loud noises they made. The conversations. The sound of people swallowing food. The tapping of Steve's shoe on the floor. Everything irritated you. From the small scratches on the counter to the farthest lamp that blinked every one minute and two seconds. Wanda noticed that. She noticed that you were itching to keep from freaking out. That you closed your eyes tightly trying to ignore your surroundings. That she needed to do something to help. She wanted to come to you and ask what intrigued you so much. What made you take deep breaths and crack your fingers every second was curious.

"Thank you, momma." She almost didn't hear you because of your low and hoarse voice. Wanda leaves a kiss on your head as she watches your foot bouncing up and down, eating the sandwich she made.

Wanda debated in her head what she could do to make you feel better. She knew she couldn't pressure you into saying anything, but she was so worried that she would do anything to see you well again. And even if it got to the point where she had to read your mind, she couldn't. You somehow managed to block your mother from reading your thoughts and seeing what was wrong.

You place your plate in the sink, taking a deep breath. Finally you would get away from people and that feeling of anxiety would finally leave you, that's what you thought. You thought that just a few hours of lying in bed doing nothing would solve your problems, but deep down, you knew that wasn't what would happen. And, now walking towards your room, not even your plan of closing yourself under the covers would be complete, as your mother followed you with the comfortable atmosphere that she always exuded.

You lie in your bed watching your mother calmly wait for your permission to lie down next to you. You nod to her with a smile on your face. Wanda puts her arms around your body, running her hand on your back, making your body relax. You loved these moments between the two of you, you realized how important you are to her and how loved you are. "You know you can always talk to me, don't you?" She murmurs, making you lean into her even more. Your face was in the crook of her neck, hiding how your lip trembled trying to hold back your crying. "I love you so much, sweetheart."

You finally let out a sob when Wanda murmurs those words that came out of her mouth so sweetly. Her grip around you tightens as she feels tears fall onto the skin of her neck, leaving a kiss on your head. The caress on your back never stopped, reassuring you that you were safe in your mother's arms. "It's okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay." You hated crying out loud, but at that moment you couldn't control all those feelings that made your heart ache spilling across your face, and Wanda was there to remind you that it was okay to cry and feel that way. "I-I'm sorry."

"Honey... we never apologize because of our emotions, right? Never." Wanda pulls you to place you on her lap, making you lay your head on her chest. You start playing with the hem of your mother's shirt, sniffling as you try to think of words you could say to her. "Do you want to talk about it, детка?"

"It was just... a bad week." You murmur, snuggling even closer to Wanda, feeling her heartbeat in your ear, which made you calm down a little more. "I just- I'm just feeling so overwhelmed and... and I don't know what to do."

"Oh, baby... it's okay. We'll get through this, yeah? It's okay to feel this way and I'll help you with whatever you need, my love." She strokes your hair, making your body relax in her lap. You agree, feeling her comfortable words enter your ears and help you with the horrible thoughts. "You're so strong, honey. Remember you're not alone, okay?" You mumble something, agreeing with her. You never knew how Wanda could make you feel better with just a few words, maybe it was her magic? You never knew. But she would always be your best friend and the person who would always make you feel better again. "Thank you, momma."

You would never be able to explain how grateful you were to have your mother by your side, because there are so many people in the world who don't have that comfort, and just thinking about not having someone to help you through your episodes made you feel sick. Even if she didn't say it, you knew Wanda was afraid you'd go back to that time when the hole was deeper than it is now. You remember exactly how she cried with you when you vented to her about everything you were feeling, and how she helped you every step of the way again.

"You don't need to thank me, детка. I love you so much, okay? I will always be by your side, on whatever you need." And you knew she was telling the truth, because Wanda loves you so much. You will always be her little miracle and the most important thing in her life. She feels so proud of you, because she knows that you can get through this, that you are strong enough to get through all the challenges in your life. She believes in your ability to overcome these difficult times - because you can - and there will always be people to support and walk alongside you, because you'll never be alone.

[minhosimthings]

Dances Avec Les Etoiles ft. Heeseung - The Vows

Synopsis: God how boring is love? For Lee Heeseung, it was perhaps the most boring thing in this rotten world. But for his parents, it meant buisness. And buisness meant getting Heeseung married off to a princess from another kingdom. And when the princess shares a peculiar interest, Heeseung starts to believe in Cupid again.

Pairings: Prince!Heeseung × Princess!fem!reader

Warnings: literal fluff nothing else, vows and a wedding my baes!!!

A/N: I HAD to write a wedding scene like COME ON its a law in Mona town that you cannot not write a wedding scene. Also I wrote really sappy vows so sorry not really that @candewlsy babe your daddy papi is a lovesick daddy papi now hehe

Part 1 || Part 2 || The Wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Weddings were always thought to be pompous events, jewels, dresses, champagne, whose son married whose daughter, gold, silver, and most importantly first dances.

And Heeseung couldn't have been more impatient for his first dance than ever.

Although it wasn't his first dance with you, having danced with you with every passing second of time since your engagement was officially announced.

He had sneaked you out often to the western wing, much to the suffering of Sunoo who had to hear Heeseung's rants about how pretty you danced with him.

And now it was suddenly the wedding, how the time had passed so quickly, and how, now, you were all dolled up in your flowy wedding dress, with adornments on you, enough to last a time. But the thing that shone especially bright was the rose gold ring on your finger, which Heeseung had customised for you. A ballerina figure sat on top of the ring, a bit extra, but it was Heeseung, and you loved how he had your initials engraved on the ring.

And then there you were again, walking with slow, flickering footsteps down a carpeted aisle to Heeseung.

Your Heeseung.

Your dancing prince.

You had often heard of the notion that brides shouldn't ever cry on weddings, it was apparently bad luck.

But how could you have held yourself back? When your ears listened to the beautiful notes of Heeseung's voice reading his own, written vows, a first for Tarnow's royal weddings apparently. But how could he have not? His princess deserved more than poetry. Especially when vows weren't usually allowed for princesses so usually the groom had to take incharge of the "how much I love you" banter.

"Beautiful." Heeseung whispered to you as you stepped onto the pedestal, facing his handsome face, "You look beautiful."

"As do you, my prince."

The priest clearing his throat snapped Heeseung out of his daze, while he was staring at your exposed neck and collarbones, god he hoped he didn't have anything particularly visible.

"Right." Heeseung took a deep breath, and took his paper from a very sweaty Jay, who was looking at you with a "Thank you for falling in love with him" smile (as if he hadn't thanked you enough already).

"I-Im kind of bad at writing vows and everything. Not like I've written them before! Because I-Ive never been married before I mean-" Heeseung panicked, but immediately calmed down at seeing the smile on your face. You placed your hand on top of his, earning an "aww" from the guests and a smile from Heeseung, who took another deep breath and started.

"Princess Y/N of the Witchelm Kingdom." Of course the declarations had to be first, "Have you ever heard of the sentence, Dances avec les etoiles?"

His voice bought a blush to your face.

"It means to want to dance with stars. When I was forced to learn french at eight, I found out about this pretty poetic line, and I related to it greatly. A little too greatly perhaps, and I found myself dancing in the darkest corners of this palace every night. It gave me peace, a lot of peace, to see myself in a great big mirror and do what I could never do to the strangers in the outside world."

You swore you could see stars dancing around Heeseung.

"But then, you came into this thing I call my life, and for-for perhaps the first time, I felt complete. Yes, we may have bickered, too many times for your liking-" that incited a giggle out of you, "But even in that, even in your anger, I truly found beauty in its equality. And when you danced for the first time at the ball? Oh god I swear I could have ravaged the earth for you right there and then, my princess."

You could have done the same for him at that moment.

"I had always thought of love as an insignificant thing, who would crave for a mere emotion like that? But now I realise, that it the only emotion I am ever so starved of, and it is the only emotion I feel, every single time your light shines on mine.

God do you know how much you dance like a swan in the corners of my heart I thought were unreachable? Because you do, you truly do. If there were a hundred universes in this world, I swear to find you in each one, and have one last dance with you, one last sinful symphony if it's the final thing I do, if your face is the final thing I see, then darling consider me blessed in my choices and cursed in my rendezvous.

I-I would be the happiest man on earth, if I was to dance with you every second, if my hand were you rest on your waist and twirl you around every day, I would truly be happy, Y/N.

I would be dancing with you among the stars, so much that the planets themselves get jealous, that their astral ballet cannot compete with ours."

You truly never knew the dance of two souls could have been more prettier than Spanish flamenco. But now, as your lips moved in synchronisation with Heeseung's, the sweet venom injecting into your lovesick blood, his hand ghosting your waist, as if he was afraid to even break you, you truly knew what love was.

It was to match each other's feet in the mirror of a now renovated western wing, dedicated to dancing and only dancing.

It was to make fun of Heeseung's brothers for their terrible dancing skills (barring Jay).

It was to simply exist with Heeseung.

It was to dance among the stars with him, as the saying went,

Dances Avec Les Etoiles.

Taglist: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @yungnorth

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 31

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of Daemon, whose loved her all her life.

TW: a dead body, helaena having more lines in this chapter than in the entire House of the Dragons series.

masterlist for this series

Chapter Thirty-One: The Pity

Ser Criston opens the large wooden doors of her room, mere seconds after a member of the guards had told him that someone or something had jumped out of the window.

He sees Alyssa sprawled on the floor, covered in blood. It pained him to see her in this manner, yet his eyes trailed elsewhere - searching for Prince Aelor who should've been crying right now.

Yet he could only hear silence.

A deafening silence that threatened to split his ears in half.

"Alyssa," he opened his mouth, piercing through the thick atmosphere. She laid on the ground, staring at the ceiling - unmoving, covered in purple bruises. "Alyssa," he repeated her name again, kneeling beside her - wrapping his arms around her like a father would his daughter.

The Pity.

"Alyssa," he repeated her name for the third time - hoping for a response. "- where is Aelor?" he asked staring deep into her purple eyes, ones that reminded him of Rhaenyra. Her eyes which were once filled with hope and happiness, were now devoid of any emotion.

Blankly, she points at the open window. Ser Criston paled. The war of ravens and letters have indeed ended, and there wasn't a thing in this world that could remedy a mother's grief.

It was the dead of night when Ser Criston Cole made his descent to the courtyard. There were a dozen servants surrounding the Prince's body, but he made sure to shoo them away. He was with Helaena when he wrapped Prince Aelor with a green cloth.

"Did you dream of this?" he asked, holding the small corpse close to his chest. "It doesn't matter, it's already done." Helaena responded, taking the corpse off his hands and into her arms. Whatever warmth radiated off her body could not bring the dead back to life.

"I've said it countless times, our family wants something that has never belonged to us." Helaena gritted her teeth, opposite to Criston, she could look at the body - she could stare deep into Aelor's crushed face. "- Alyssa will never forgive Aemond, not even in the afterlife." she added with utmost certainty.

Helaena fights the tears that threaten to leak out her eyes. This could've been Jaehaerys or Jaehaera, and she couldn't have done anything to prevent this. "There is tragicness in my dreams, Ser." she opened her mouth, reaching for Aelor's little fingers as if he was still alive. "- because it means reliving the same thing twice." she breathed, finally allowing the tears to leak out of her eyes.

"How will we tell your mother? Aegon?" Criston asks, eyes avoiding the piece of cloth carried by Helaena. "It is their callousness that has led to this, and we'll all pay our dues." she mumbled.

"We'll tell them in the morning, then. We'll keep things quiet, lest the news reach the Targaryens in Dragonstone. Prince Aelor was our bargaining chip to Daemon and Saera. Now, Rhaenyra has taken him away." he gritted his teeth, placing all the blame on his former lover.

"His death will bring more battles than you anticipated." her moony voice trailed off, and they began marching towards the castle. Criston was unsure if that was her observation or her vision. "My grandfather thinks that the war will only be between Aegon and Rhaenyra, but he is wrong - that much I know." she whispered.

Inside the castle were a few Septas waiting for the delivery of Prince Aelor's body. "Then, you must leave, my Queen." Criston pleads.

Helaena gives him a knowing smile.

"We'll pay our dues, ser." she repeated her previous statement, before fading from his view, covered by the Septas.

We all process our grief in different ways. Aegon drowns himself with wines and whores. Helaena keeps to her children and visions, but Alicent does not have time to mourn.

"Prince Aelor was murdered by mercenaries that found their way inside of the Red Keep. It is obvious that this act of terrorism was committed by Rhaenyra's forces." Otto opens his mouth to speak, still at a shock that Aelor died the night before. "- Aemond killed her son and now she has gotten her revenge. A son for a son." he added.

Alicent licks her lips.

It makes her a fool to sympathize with the enemy, right?

"Ser Criston Cole found Princess Alyssa sprawled on the floor, covered in her own blood - obviously shaken." Ser Otto further expanded on his thought. "Where is Aemond?" Alicent inquired. "The damn boy has always done as he pleased." Otto raised his voice.

"His son is dead - his wife is useless." he cursed.

"What is it that you want me to do?" Aegon raised his eyebrow. "A murder happened inside of your castle. Rhaenyra will not chafe her knees. We must force her now - Saera will turn against her. The perfect time for making allies." Otto placed a hand on the table.

Alicent shook her head unconsciously.

In disbelief at the recent turn of events.

"Victory has never been closer to us. If we play our cards right, we'll be mere days until the rebellion in Dragonstone is vanquished." Otto estimated and Aegon nodded his head.

"To war, then?" he smirked.

Four walls, a ceiling and a floor.

None of them were enough to contain Alyssa's grief. A few hours ago, she was taken from her room and moved to a part of the castle that she's never seen before. There was a layer of dust collecting on the windowsill. She hasn't moved for a long time now.

There was hardly anything written about losing a child, more commonly - the child got to bury their parent. It was nature, a parent and a child's life only meets halfway until the former dies and watches from the afterlife.

The same thing couldn't be said for Alyssa.

A knock on the door breaks her free from her thoughts, and Aemond enters the chambers. "Alyssa," his face is a mess - it looks like he hasn't gotten any sleep since he arrived.

Her gaze turned sharply in his direction. "What are you doing here?" her voice leaked with venom, and he takes a step backwards. She has never spoken to him in that tone before. "Is it true?" he asked, praying to the gods that it was just a rumor.

"It is your fault, and yours alone." she could not managed to raise her voice, but the venom remained. "I-I," he could not form his words. A single tear flowed down his eye, before he bolted away - slamming the door loudly.

Aemond was only ten and three when he lost his virginity. It was to a woman almost twice his age, a brothel-madam that Aegon forced unto him. He's never forgotten the incident, the whispers of protest that evaded his mouth - and now he goes to back to it.

"You're back," the woman raised her eyebrows. He collapses into her arms, wrapping her in a warm embrace. 'Coward' he insulted himself. His wife was grieving in Maegor's Holdfast. Aelor was cold in the crypts, and his family was mere seconds away from certain war.

He was here. He was alive.

Of all the people that deserved to die, why was he alive?

Her hands trailed down to his chest, removing his cloak and tunic. Unbuttoning it with ease. "You're safe," the woman whispered - silencing him with a kiss.

[earthpleasures]

OCEAN EYES !

Steve Rogers x fem!wife!avenger!reader

Summary: ever since downfall of Avengers, your marriage was in shambles. A certain event ripped off the final thread between you and Steve. However, can you be mended?

Warnings: ANGST / swearing, misunderstandings, poor communication, miscarriage, slight alcoholism, self harm, nightmares, reader and steve love each other but they're stupid.

Word Count: 1.4k

Note: events take place three months after 'avengers: infinity war'.

dividers by: @benkeibear

"you really know how to make me cry

when you gimme those ocean eyes"

- ocean eyes by billie eilish.

The night was cold, the wind blowing through the open windows of the house. Ghosts of last year remained inside the walls as Steve feared. With a grunt, he rubbed his face. Even with all the breeze, he was sweating. Damned nightmares.

His hand involuntarily reached to the other side of the sheets, searching for that familiar warmth. Her side of the bed was cold, she must have been up for long enough. He sat up and threw the black duvet off his body. No matter how many times they tried to sleep with windows closed, neither of them could blink. Past haunted present.

Balcony door was ajar, choked sobs being heard from there. He sighed as he stood up and took her cardigan off the nightstand. His steps were heavy, unsure of how to trespass walls she created around them. It's been a long time since they had a proper conversation.

Taking a deep, cold breath into his lungs, he pushed the ajar door, meeting a similar image. Her knees were pulled against her chest on the couch, her cheek pressing against them. An empty bottle of whiskey stood unashamed next to her. He scrunched his nose. Smell of whiskey wasn't the best, especially when it came to his wife.

Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, moonlight illuminating her tired face. Dried tears have been replaced with new, wet ones. She was so drawn to her world of ruins that Steve's footsteps didn't even alert her senses. He cleaned his throat to make his presence known, earning a slow headlift from her. Her swollen eyes were all red from crying.

"What did we talk about drinking at late hours?" He couldn't help but be wary of her behavior. Avengers were his world, but when his world fell into void, all left was ruins. Ruins of his life and marriage. Once an inseparable couple, now barely spoke to each other besides arguing.

"Go to sleep, Steve. It's a late hour to argue." After hours of silence, her voice came out hoarse. A few coughs helped her to clean her throat. "I don't need your pity." She said with the pain-filled undertone in her voice, something only Steve would hear.

"You don't need my pity, Y/n. You need me." His words only fueled the anger that crept her features. "Oh, really Captain? Where were you when I fell into hell in that hospital? Let me tell you, you were in another country, trying your best to avoid me. Maybe you even wished for me to perish." Her drunk words stung like venomous needles, making Steve fix his stance.

"I didn't escape from you. We were on a mission and-"

"AND WHAT? ARE THE FUCKING MISSIONS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR WIFE?" Her sudden outburst caused Steve to frown. "It's nothing like that, you're being dramatic right now." A sarcastic laugh escaped her throat. "Dramatic? I lost my baby, Steve. I didn't even get to hold my child before I lost her. And to remind you, she was your daughter too."

Moments of silence went on and went on. Neither of them spoke, no one taking a step to lower the barriers between them. When she buried her head to her knees, Steve remembered the soft cardigan he was holding from the very beginning of their argument. He bit his lips, not wanting to say one more word to her. Throwing the soft fabric on the table next to her, he slammed the door behind him and went to bed.

Now his side of the bed was cold too.

She was running, running, and running again. Brown-haired boy smiled at her from a distance, waving his hand cluelessly. He wasn't aware of the danger waiting for him. "Peter! Peter!" Her own screams were ripping her skin. Boy didn't react to her agony or cries.

When she finally reached her destination, her body fell to the floor. Before she could reach him, smile on his face dusted away. Gray dusts flowed through her fingers.

"Y/n, wake up!" The sudden shock of being shaken made her open her eyes. Steve's worried face was in front of him. Everything was a nightmare again. Universe kept rubbing the fact she couldn't protect the kid to her face. She let him kiss her forehead and press her against his warm chest. Throughout everything that happened, every fight occurred between them, he was still her safe space, the only place she could walk into with her eyes closed. "It's okay, I am here... I am here..." The whispers against her hair began to show their effects, smoothing the fast beating of her heart.

She clumsily threw her robe over her back and wore her slippers, making her way to the bathroom. A bath was what she needed most at this time. Looking into those blue eyes she once loved so much was now nothing short of torture. Of course, Steve didn't blame her for The Snap. However, a part of her dusted away with all of the people disappeared. Whenever she looked into his eyes, failure looked back at her.

She slowly took off her robe and pajama. The process made her hiss in actual pain, fabric rutting against wounds left from her last panic attack. She didn't know why or how, her hands always found their way to her belly when she had one of her attacks, itching to feel her baby again. The baby she never achieved to embrace.

Her fingers traced shapes on the scars, scratches and stitch marks all over her stomach. Running faucet filled the bathtub with hot water. She didn't mind the burns on her skin, stepping into the vapors. Her skin writhed, as she sank into the water, scratches burned and itched. She laid her head back on cold tiles. Punishment was a given for failed ones, she deserved this.

“Y/n, I am- oh god!” Steve's panicked voice tore her thoughts away. His rushed steps were what she focused on. Strong arms pulled her out of the water. After coming out of hot water, her body shivered with cold air caressing her. “What the hell were you doing!?” Steve exclaimed as he turned the cold water on, easing the hot sensation.

Scratches on her body gained his attention. “Y/n. What are these?” Ah, one more failure. Steve finally discovered the scratches. “Nothing.” Her tone stood neutral, not giving away anything.

“Look at my eyes. Are you harming yourself?” She shook her head to say no. But Steve wasn't stupid and he knew his wife well enough to understand when she lied to him. “Love… You should've told me.” After months of separation, and emotional distance, the goddamn wall finally cracked. Maybe that was what was needed in their relationship. Fear of losing.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. The world was finally spinning on her way. Steve cupped her cheeks gently. “Look at me, darling. No matter what happens between us, you're still my wife. I am still your husband. Come to me, because in this world, only we can mend each other.” Her lips trembled as tears began to fill her eyes.

“I am sorry, Steve. For not listening to you, for bursting out of nowhere. You are right. We have only each other left.” He nodded as his thumb brushed her cheek, wiping the tears away. He hooked his arms under her waist and knees, picking her up.

After laying her down, he opened their emergency drawer and took out the burn cream. With slow motions, he circled the cream on the red pitches of her skin. “I know you don't think I cared about our daughter, but I did. As much as you did. Sleepless nights held me captive after losing her. I couldn't come to the hospital because I had no way back.” He kissed her knees, fingers massaging her thighs as if he tended to heal her. “I am so sorry, my love. I shouldn't have left you in the dark alone. I should've stood next to you.”

She looked at his eyes. The very ocean blues she loved. She still loved them. They were not at a point of no return. Her smile was real this time, not an effort to push him away. “We can fix everything and start all over again, right?” He closed her eyes and kissed her softly, it made her feel loved. “Yes, yes we can.”

©2024 earthpleasures do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[willowbrookesblog]

"I'm afraid of you."

Pairing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson x Fem!Reader Uthred's daughter and Stiorra's older sister

Notes: This is my first fic about Sigtryggr so if you notice something out of character for him or some spelling mistakes, please tell me :) I'm also lowkey highkey scared to post this because I've never truly written anything to the public 😩 but I know that by practicing my writing will slowly get better as time goes on so please give me some pointers if you want it will be greatly appricated- anywho hope you enjoy~

warnings: talk of childbirth/death but its just one line and doesn't get talked about again.

Y/n sat in silence - head resting on her hands that were interlocked under her chin starring at a book Sigtryggr asked her to read to him blankly, knowing that her sister was okay and that no one would harm her, she wasn't worried about Edward's family as she had a feeling they were going to be used as pawns or something of the sort.

She had already talked to Sigtryggr and had told him everything he had asked for in return for the security that her sister wouldn't be harmed to which he had agreed - she couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her when he had promised that he would not let anyone hurt her or her sister.

In truth, for the past few weeks she had grown quite close with him, Sigtryggr even going as far as to let her see Stiorra herself to make sure she was alright. Sigtryggr managed to figure her out - something most men couldn't do, and that terrified her. She had built walls around herself so that no one could get close to her, she didn't want to lose anyone else and he managed to make his way right into her heart and made her walls crumble to the ground while she stood watching them fall and there was nothing she could do about it.

Sigtryggr silently watched her from the opposite side of the room a small smile playing at his lips as she sighed "What is it?" Y/n turned to look at him "This is so stupid, I'm bored, tired, and hungry, and I'm tired of reading, my brain feels like it's being tortured" Y/n scoffed before pushing the book away and leaning her head on the table.

She heard Sigtryggr chuckle at her and lifted her head "What?" Sigtryggr moved to sit in front of her, handing her some bread, his fingers lightly touching hers as she grabbed it "Well then, you shall take a break. Tell me more about yourself, you said you often thought of your future, tell me about it" He asked her, only for information and totally not just him wanting to learn even more about her or anything "I want to go on a couple adventures, maybe own my own bakery, I refuse to have children so maybe have a cat or two, and then live a quiet and peaceful life," Y/n says as she looked up at him

Sigtryggr smiled at her and tilted his head "No children? why is that?" Sigtryggr asked her curiously and Y/n scoffed at the question not hesitating to answer him "I have no maternal bone in my body, when I hear a child cry I do not feel the need to comfort it instead I pray to the gods that it shuts up, and when a child falls I have no feeling to comfort them in fact i find it rather amusing." Y/n leaned back "Plus i don't want to die giving birth, it scares me" Sigtryggr nodded "that's understandable" it got quiet for a few moments before Sigtryggr got called for by someone and he excused himself, gently touching her shoulder as he went by.

Y/n sat quietly by herself, his touch set her skin on fire and she couldn't help but think of what it would feel like touching all over her body, she quickly shook her head and took a deep breath in trying to calm herself but it didn't do much to calm the heat her body was forming.

-----

About another two weeks had gone by and her body craved him, she wanted him more than anything and that terrified her, she didn't know it was possible to want something so much, didn't help that she would make up so many excuses just to get him to touch her, it was almost pathetic, she felt herself falling for him and she couldn't stop herself.

Similarly Sigtryggr was having the same problem, every time she asked for this or that and he let his touch linger on her, he knew that he was falling for her, but he wasn't upset by finding out he was, he was just worried about what would happen to her.

She sat down at the table back facing the door when he walked in "I'm afraid of you, afraid of the feelings that you make me have. Of how tempting it is to make excuses just to feel your touch on my skin, of lying to myself. I'm afraid of the feelings that consume my entire being when you come around, or when i think of you. I'm scared about how much I feel for you. I can't hide it anymore- I'm tired of hiding it and being afraid of you rejecting me, Of being scared of what I want" Y/n says to him as she stands up turning to face him

Sigtryggr tilts his head to the side and slowly steps forward to stand in front of her, "And what do you want?" His voice is firm but gentle "I want you" she responded almost instantly "I want you so much it scares me" Y/n said again her voice slightly quivering

Sigtryggr looked at her and nodded his head "Then you will have me, I was just about to come and tell you a deal has been made. You will come with me to Eorforwic, I will give you everything you wanted, adventures, your own bakery, cats, and a peaceful, quiet life"

Sigtryggr gently holds onto the sides of her face "If you would be willing to go with me, will you?" he asks looking in her eyes "I would happily go with you, Sigtryggr" Y/n smiles and pulls him closer to her and lays a gentle kiss on his lips.

-----

Please 🙏 please tell me how it was, did you enjoy it? Any feedback helps and is greatly appreciated <33 Also before I forget Please reblog 😊

@valeskafics @sihtricfedaraaahvicius I'm tagging you both just because I wanna know what you guys think of this <3

[ghouljams]

Price never saying no to goose for anything. Even questionably dangerous or reckless things he’d just do them with her because god damn if she didn’t have everything she wanted.

It's like you have a direct line to my brain. Price is such a pushover for his little girl, and Goose is truly a daddy's girl because of it. He was there for every tea party, and every dance recital. But he also taught her how to shoot, took her on mechanical bulls, and put a mattress under the hayloft when she said she wanted to jump off of it.

Anyway here's some Price family fluff with baby Goose.

You really didn't know what to expect when you told Price you were pregnant. It wasn't like it was great timing. You were both in school, looking forward to careers with little room for little ones. You were barely married for crying out loud, only having signed the documents to get your boy- your husband out of the barracks.

The way his eyes light up when he spots the positive pregnancy test, the way he holds your face and tells you he wants it, "No matter how hard it is, we'll make it work." You believe him, without question you believe in the conviction behind his words. You've never known John Price to be a dishonest man, and you hardly think this is where he'd start lying to you.

"What about the RMAS? Med School? Maybe we should wait." You grip his wrists, both of you searching the others eyes. The fear and excitement, the absolute trust in each other, you may not have been married long but you've known since you met him that Price won't let you fall if he isn't there to catch you.

"What do you want to do?" He asks you so gently you think it might be easier if he was shouting at you. You think of how hard it'll be. You think of the sleepless nights, struggling to care for a baby and study for exams. You think of Price getting deployed and being away for long periods, leaving you alone with a baby. You think of your parents, and how they never would have traded you for anything in the world.

Months later you sit in the hospital with an anatomy textbook open and your husband rocking the sweetest baby you've ever seen, and you think you can absolutely do this.

-

You're home for the summer with a toddler and a very jetlagged husband on leave from special forces. Price and your daughter squint in the Texas sun as you pat sunscreen onto both of them. You mom yells to you from the house and you give very clear instructions to both of your flight risks to stay where they are while you go see what she needs.

When you come back you brother is handing your baby up to Price. Settling her in front of him on the saddle before taking off. You nearly faint watching your daughter bounce excitedly as the horse gallops across the pasture. You swear loud enough for your brother to hear and don't bother censoring yourself while giving him a piece of your mind. He graciously offers his horse for you to go make sure nothing happens to them.

You find Price holding your daughter up to pet down the nose of one of the cows in the paddock. Her tiny fingers, scrunching in the hair on top of its head before Price can coax her to let go. She smiles at you so brightly you almost forget to be mad about the unexpected field trip.

-

Price adjusts Goose's grip on the rifle, the gun dwarfing her little hands. She presses her cheek against the body of it to look down the sight at the target. The strap is wrapped tight around her arm just like he'd showed her, and you think you should really be used to this by now. It's harder to be calm about this sort of thing when it's your kid. Still, you can't think of a better teacher than your husband.

"Deep breaths," Price tells her, his hand braces her shoulder where the butt of the gun rests, "don't rush yourself if you're not sure."

"I know daddy." Goose tells him, you've never known a more confident kid. It's all Price's fault for encouraging her. Not that you mind, you'd rather your kid be self assured and friendly than the alternative. You'd be worried more about Goose favoring her father if she didn't follow you like a shadow.

The shot that rings through the air is followed immediately by Price's praise. His grin over his shoulder at you to make sure you're watching as he ruffles your daughter's hair melts your heart.

-

You think Price is better suited for life on the ranch than you'd first thought. Your summers in the states are starting to almost feel more like home than your flat back in England. Especially when Price grabs you passing by the barn and pulls you inside. An arm hooked around your waist as you laugh and push at his chest, his lips catching yours with a smile.

It's slow and indulgent. Just the two of you enjoying each other's affection. He smells warm from the sun, must've just come in from the pasture. It makes you a little giddy that his first thought was to grab you as soon as he could. Giddy enough to hold his face and pull him close in the middle of the barn. He lets a pleased noise hum against your lips, hands sliding into the back pockets of your jeans.

Just when his tongue slides against your lips do you hear your child go, "Ewww, gross."

Her gap toothed smile grins down at you from the hayloft. The little straw cowboy hat your mom get for her really finishes off her look of too big overalls and pink cowboy boots. Price let's you go to stand under the overhang. He gestures with his hands and Goose scrambles to stand.

"Alright baby, don't wanna worry your momma, come on down." Price calls up, and you shake your head, knowing full well what your troublemakers are going to do. Goose backs up to take a running start before jumping off the loft, and landing with a flurry of giggles in your husband's arms.

Worry is such a strong word. Since you met Price you don't think you've worried about anything. At least not anything important, not about your safety or your future. How could you with him here?

It's different when he's deployed, when you can only talk to him on the phone, and even then only at certain times. But you've never worried when he told you he'd be home. He wouldn't leave you or Goose for the world, not if he can help it.

-

"Didn't know you were married," Soap tells Price as he hands him his papers.

"And I'd prefer we keep it that way," Price nods, "You know how this job goes. The less people know the better." Soap nods, looks over the boarding passes, flips through the leave notices.

"All the way in America, eh?" Soap grins, "Didn't know you were into stars and stripes."

"Don't make me regret trusting you MacTavish," Price's tone is deadly, serious enough to make the dead stand at attention, "If I ever hear you blabbing about them."

"I'm not gonna be babysitting any rugrats while I'm there, am I?"

"Just the one," Price smiles a little despite himself, "You'll like her."

"Feel like I don't even know you anymore," Soap jokes with a shake of his head, "Anything else I should know?"

"Just," Price takes a breath, eyes somewhere far away, "tell 'em I'm sorry I couldn't be there myself, and be on your best behavior. Those girls are the best thing to ever happen to me and I'll be damned if I gotta hear about you doing something stupid like-" He fishes for something plausible but ridiculous, "-like burning down the barn."

"I'll keep away from the explosives, Sir."

[casteliacityramen]

|| Previously ||

|| Content Warning: Blood/Grievous Injury and Self Harm ||

"How much time ya got?" Ayumi's guttural voice exits from below the curtain.

The ramen stand has broken even after the last couple of customers. While additional sales after this point is a gain on profits, it's not like they're in a rush to get rid of ingredients.

"I'm calling the shots until Ray gets back. I say when," Rio absentmindedly yawns.

Ayumi takes a deep breath in response.

"I smelled the blood on him before he got to our door," Ayumi whispers, gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes tight.

"Turns out nobody thought to block the area off or anything. Just a bunch of half-made buildings that might as well have been made out of wet cardboard.

"She got it worse than I did." Ayumi slips her hand over the stump, grimacing.

"When she fell, Jack evolved on the spot in the stress of it all. She wouldn't be alive if he had to carry her as a stubby little oshawott."

"The docs saved what they could, but the rest was gone. Buried under rubble. When Alex was called to the center and saw her daughter, he flipped his shit. I get it."

Ayumi's face darkens, clenching her jaw so hard that her facial hair twitched.

"What I don't get is why he took it all out on my son. He cussed him out. He threatened him. He said it was his fault! All of it!"

Ayumi shot forward, her voice echoing like a cannon onto the street, startling anyone unfortunate enough to be within hearing distance.

"He didn't even get a chance to properly clean himself until he got home. I had to help him do it. He couldn't lift his arms or say anything, he just cried until he passed out," She growls, shaking her head as her breathing got deeper and faster at the memory.

"I wasn't having any of that."

"Our supervisors forced us on different shifts. Then, after a couple weeks, Alex and Aila moved to Nimbasa. I haven't talked to either of them since.

"So yeah, when I saw someone who looked like Aila for a split second, my brain got fried. I thought for a long time about what I'd say to Alex, but Aila? Shit. It's been four years and I just..."

Ayumi's tensed shoulders fell, confusion and sadness mixing into her anger.

"What the hell were you thinking? Why did your dad do that to my son? Do you blame my son, too?"

"Y'know how it goes? When some tauros shit goes down and your brain keeps comin' up with scenarios? All of that sat in my head for too long. It got mixed into noise. When I saw someone who reminded me of her, the noise got the loudest it's ever been."

Ayumi takes a deep breath of air, sighing as she continues.

"Jack hasn't talked about it to me. Even now. He's actin' tough, trying to make sure nothing bothers him. But I know it bothers him. I hear him cry some nights. He won't talk no matter how much my husband and I try."

"Just like when I lost my arm, Jack and Hal were freakin' out. Constantly asking me if I was okay and if I needed help. Worried out of their minds. But I kept telling them I was fine. I was okay. Nothin' bothers me. Even though a lot of what I'm going through bothers me."

"I keep doin' that 'nah I'm good' shit whenever I have a shit day and I know they see right through me. But I'm the only one getting any sort of stable income and if I let them know how much I'm strugglin', they'll feel guilty or..."

"They'll feel like a burden," Ayumi groans, placing her forehead in her hand.

"You saw how that Umbreon was when he left. I don't want to see my baby and my man like that, bendin' over backwards to do more than they should. Feeling awful because they know I left my clan for them."

Ayumi peers between her fingers at the tip jar sitting behind the stand.

"Or doin' something stupid like steal from someone else's honest work. I know Jack's still a kid, and kids do stupid shit, but I know he's still beatin' himself up over the whole damn thing."

"I mean, ya asked," Ayumi sheepishly rubs her fingers together, retreating into the shade in a tinge of embarrassment.

"I did," Rio mutters, carrying the likeness of someone who attempted to take a drink from the forceful end of a pressure washer. Regardless, she collects herself, sits straighter in her chair, and gives Ayumi a hardened look.

"I don't know anything about being a mom, but it sounds like you're putting everything into it. That's more than enough."

"What if it isn't?" Ayumi whispers, her voice trembling.

"It will be."

Ayumi softly laughs at Rio's absolution. She's repeated those words to herself countless times, but hearing them from someone else was rekindling her slipping resolve.

Feeling a small weight fall from her shoulders, she slowly forms an idea.

"... Can ya do me a favor?"

For the first time since Ayumi started, the two ease up in their seats, using whatever time they had to finally relax. The sounds of Castelia City filled the silence in between.

"Y'know what?" Ayumi shattered the silence in a sudden (and loud) realization, much to Rio's chagrin.

"I was too focused on noodles and making you listen to my sob story that I forgot to ask you for your name," Ayumi laughs. Rio pauses, coming to the same realization before she also laughs and reaches out with her paw.

Referenced Posts: Ayumi mistaking @asktoastythearcanine 's Allen for someone else Graymont Design BuildJack Stealing the Tip JarRio's question to Ayumi

|| Pinned Post | Story So Far ||

[sequinsmile-x]

Can I make a request. Can you please write a fic where Emily and Aaron on the bed cuddling and discussing everything. How they fell in love how they thought they’ll never get a chance and how admired each other from distance. Fic where they just remember everything 🥰 thank you 🫶

I love this idea! <3

This came out REAL fluffy haha, so I hope you enjoy it bestie!

-x-

Our Story

Aaron tells a story to try and lull his newborn daughter to sleep.

If only his wife would stop interrupting him.

-x-

Warnings: so incredibly fluffy so please floss afterwards

Words: 2.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily sighs contentedly as she stands under the stream of hot water, her eyes closed as she lets the last of the body wash slip away from her skin. She was exhausted, so tired she thinks she might actually fall asleep standing up if she stayed in the shower too much longer. As she turns off the water, the white noise gives way to the sound of crying from the bedroom and the deep timbre of her husband’s voice, and she blows out a breath. 

Violet was six days old, a tiny little thing who hated sleep and loved to be held by one of her parents - her mother if she had her way, which meant that the five minute shower Emily had just had was nothing short of a luxury. Aaron had gently nudged her towards the bathroom, Violet tiny and safe against his chest as he shifted back and forth on his feet, trying to lull their newborn to sleep. He was exhausted too, insistent on being there for the baby as much as she was, bringing her snacks and water whenever she had to nurse, keeping her and Violet company in the middle of the night even when she told him he could go to sleep.

Even though they’d barely slept since their daughter was born, and a few weeks prior because of how uncomfortable Emily was at the end of her pregnancy, she knew they’d never been happier. It was a life she’d always wanted, one she’d never dared to dream she’d ever get. Her happiness so intertwined with Aaron, Jack and Violet’s that she knew it could never be untangled, the four of them stitched together like the world's finest tapestry. 

She groans as she pulls on her pjyamas - a pair of Aaron’s sweatpants since hers still didn’t fit, and a nursing t-shirt and bra - her body still sore and aching from labour. She grimaces as she wipes steam from the mirror, her reflection making her recoil slightly. Her hair, which she hadn’t had the energy to clean, was piled on top of her head in a bun, and the bags under her eyes were so dark she knew if she even bothered to put make-up on they wouldn’t be covered. 

“Well,” she says to herself, plucking at the material of her t-shirt, scrunching her nose up at how it gathered around curves she still wasn’t used to, “That’s as good as it’s going to get I guess.” 

She stretches, grimacing again at the way her whole body feels like it hurts, and yawns again before she takes a deep breath, called towards the bedroom by her daughter’s cries, an ever present ache she seemed to have in her arms these days when she wasn’t holding her. She smiles as she opens the door and her eyes meet Aaron’s.

He’s pacing back and forth in their bedroom, talking softly to Violet, his lips against her dark hair as he whispers things only she can hear. He’s got her secure to his chest, his hand bigger than her back, and Emily thinks she has never loved him more than she does in moments like this. 

“Look Vi,” he says, smiling at Emily as he talks slightly louder so she can hear him over Violet’s cries, “Mommy is back,” he turns his attention to his wife, “You could have stayed in there longer, we would have been fine.”

She smiles and walks over, resting her head on his shoulder to look down at her little girl as she wraps her arms around her husband, “I know you would have been,” she says, kissing him through the material of his shirt, “But I think if I stayed in there any longer I would have fallen asleep.” 

Aaron chuckles as he turns his head to capture her lips in a kiss, smiling as he pulls back from her, “You look beautiful.” 

She presses her lips together as she blushes, shaking her head at him, “Usually I’d be mad at you for lying to me,” she says, trailing her fingers through his hair, “But right now I think I love you for it.”

“Not a lie,” he says, kissing her again, “You’re always beautiful,” he insists, and she rolls her eyes, but she’s cut off by Violet crying sharply, seemingly fed up about still being in Aaron’s arms when Emily is right there, “Okay, princess,” Aaron says, kissing the baby’s temple, “I get it, Mommy is back so you want to go back to your favourite person,” he looks at Emily, “Want to get into bed and I’ll hand her to you?”

She nods and walks over, groaning in discomfort as she climbs under the covers and rests her back against the headboard. She smiles lovingly at Aaron as concern splashes across his face. He’d never been any good at seeing her in pain, and he’d been a wreck when she was in labour, no matter how much he tried to hide it from her, but he’d never wavered. Always exactly what she needed him to be - both her physical and mental support as she brought their daughter into the world. 

“I’m fine,” she says, reaching out for Violet, smiling as he passes her over, “I had a baby less than a week ago.” 

“I know,” he replies, climbing into bed next to her, smiling at the sight of his two girls together, “I was there - I’m the one whose hand you almost broke.” 

She shakes her head at him and rests Violet against her chest, making sure she’s as settled as she can be. She’s stopped crying now, but she’s awake, stubborn in a way both of her parents would spend their lives insisting was the fault of each other. 

“It’s going to be a long night,” he says, looking down at Violet, and Emily hums in response.

“You should carry on talking,” Emily says quietly, “Your voice settles her I think,” she looks up at him, smiling softly as their eyes meet, “Or at least it always did when she still lived inside of me.” 

He smiles at the thought of it. He’d spent months talking to her belly, laying his head level with Emily’s bump as she sat up in bed and read her book. He’d tell Violet about anything and everything, and Emily always swore she moved less when he was talking, as if the deep timbre of his voice soothed her. 

“What should I talk about?” He asks, shifting closer and resting his arm over his wife’s shoulders, letting her lean against him. 

Emily shrugs as she tilts her head to look at him, a yawn escaping her as she replies, “Don’t ask me I think my brain is shutting down from lack of sleep,” she says, smiling when he kisses her, “What were you talking about before I came in?” 

Aaron clears his throat, something close to embarrassment flooding his chest, which is only enhanced when his wife tilts her head at him curiously, “I was telling her about us.” 

Even if she wanted to, Emily wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from smiling. There were moments when he’d still surprise her, when this soft side of him that belonged to her and their children would come out and it would take her breath away. It was a type of affection she would have once thought he wasn’t capable of, a part of himself he would only allow to be seen by those he trusted and loved the most. A type of affection she knew he would always partially see as a weakness, the blood of the man who had taught him as such running through his veins. 

It was a privilege to be loved by him and a privilege to love him, and she knew she’d spend the rest of her life trying to be worth every second of it. 

“What about us?” She asks, her voice soft as she makes it clear she isn’t making fun of him, that she genuinely wants to know. He sighs and kisses her temple, giving himself a second to breathe her in before he speaks again.

“About how we met, how we fell in love and had her.” 

Her smile gets wider as she looks down at Violet, the baby awake but quiet, and then she looks back at her husband, “Did you tell her that you hated me at first?” 

He rolls his eyes as he always does when she says that, “I didn’t hate you, Em,” he says, placing his hand over hers on Violet’s back, “I never hated Mommy.” 

“He just didn’t trust me.” 

He raises his eyebrow at his wife, “Are you going to let me tell the story or not?” 

She presses her lips together to stop herself from laughing and she nods, “Of course, honey. Sorry.” 

He shakes his head lovingly, “Now where was I before Mommy came out here and interrupted us,” he says thoughtfully, reaching out to run his knuckles over Violet’s soft cheek, “Oh yes, so Mommy came back from Paris, and she was sad because she’d missed the team-”

“You got to Paris already?” She asks, interrupting without meaning to as she furrows her brows, “I was only in the shower for five minutes.” 

“I had to skip over a lot of it,” he says completely seriously, as if Violet had the means to understand anything they were saying, “It’s too much violence for a 6-day-old.” 

She nods, understanding his reasoning and she snuggles back into his side, her head against his shoulder. It was a part of their history that she wanted to forget anyway, no matter how much it had brought them together. The similarities of what they had experienced painful and difficult, and she knew if she could she’d go back in time and save him from any of it - even if it meant she didn’t have him now. 

She knew he’d do the same for her, that they loved each other enough they’d sacrifice their own happiness if it meant the other had never been hurt in the way they had. 

“Mommy came home from Paris,” he says, starting again, “And she was sad but wasn’t hiding it very well, at least she wasn’t hiding it from me. So I asked her to tell me when she was having a bad day and that I’d help.” 

“When Daddy says ‘asks’ he means ‘told’, sweet girl,” Emily says, kissing the top of Violet’s head, “Keep that in mind for when you’re older and he ‘asks’ you to be home by your curfew.” 

“Then she started to spend more time with Jack and I,” he says, carrying on like she hadn’t interrupted. “We went to the park, to the zoo, your brother loves the zoo, princess, so I hope you’re ready to spend a lot of time there. And then one evening, after Jack went to bed and Mommy and I were having dinner in my old apartment - she kissed me.” 

“You kissed me!” She exclaims, her outrage briefly overtaking her desire to settle her little girl down, her mouth hanging open as Aaron dares to smirk at her.

It was something they’d bickered over ever since they told the team they were together. Penelope asked who kissed who, which one of them had finally made the move they’d all seen coming, and they’d both demanded it was each other. She smiles as she shakes her head at him, both of them secretly aware it didn’t matter. 

That kiss had changed both of their lives for the better. 

“We’ll continue to agree to disagree on that one,” he says leaning in to kiss her almost as if to prove his point. He smiles as he looks down, spotting that Violet is now mostly asleep, her tiny fist wrapped tightly in the neckline of Emily’s shirt. He knows he can technically stop now, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to finish telling their story, “After that, we realised how much we love each other. So Mommy moved in with me and Jack, and then I asked her to marry me and she said yes,” he smiles as Emily kisses his jaw, everything she didn’t quite have the words first the moment in the tender affection, “Then we got married in Uncle Dave’s backyard. It was one of the best days of my life.” 

“One of the best days?” Emily asks teasingly, tilting her head to look up at him, her eyebrow raised. He carefully removes his hand from Violet’s back and cups Emily’s cheek, leaning in to kiss her, smiling into it as he presses his forehead against hers. 

“Tied in top place with when Jack was born and Vi,” he says, talking to her directly now, “And when you called me at work to tell me we were having her,” he turns his attention back to a now fully sleeping Violet, “Mommy doesn’t cry a lot,” he says, smiling as Emily somehow finds a way to pinch his side even though she’s holding Violet tightly, “But I had to go to work early and she was here. She took a test and she called me in tears, she didn’t make any sense. I rushed back here thinking she was hurt and then she told me about you.”

“You should have seen him sweet girl,” Emily says, kissing the top of her head, “He was so out of breath I thought he’d run all the way home,” she looks at her daughter, smiling when she sees her mouth slack open, “She’s asleep.”

“I know,” Aaron says, running his hand up and down Emily’s arm, “Want me to put her down in her bassinet? Let you get some sleep?” 

She hums, tightening her hold on her daughter. Even though she was exhausted she didn’t want to let her baby go - even just to let her husband lay her down just a few feet away

“In a minute,” she says, closing her eyes as she rests her head back on his shoulder, “I just want to sit here for a minute.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, “Whatever you want.” 

They fall into a peaceful silence, a rare commodity in their home these days, and they enjoy it, letting it lay over them like a warm blanket.

“Aaron?”

He turns to look at her, keeping his voice as quiet as she had, not wanting to disturb their sleeping baby, “Yes, Em?”

“Our story is my favourite.” 

He smiles so widely she thinks it must hurt, and she does the same, her cheeks aching with a type of happiness she thought wasn’t real. The stuff of stories and tales told to children to make them seek it out, only to be disappointed when they grew up. But she had it right within reach, wrapped around every single part of her life. 

He leans in and kisses her, pulling back just far enough to speak.

“It’s my favourite too.” 

-x-

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[mister-e-muss]

Parenting: A TiPo microfic

(No I have not seen Kung Fu Panda 4 yet)

You know, looking back on it, maybe letting Lei Lei invite friends over to the Jade Palace was a mistake. Not that Po would ever say so out loud, mind you. But a veritable litter of kids rallying around one very capable, very mischievous leader was always a recipe for disaster.

The birthday celebration hadn’t been this out of hand at the start. There were no less than seven Kung Fu Masters just in their immediate surroundings, how hard could watching the neighborhood kids be?

As it turns out, very hard. As soon as the celebratory noodles had been eaten, they all scampered, scarpered, and scuttled away in every direction. Crane had to be dispatched to provide an aerial view, Mantis was busy checking small spaces, and Monkey was furiously taping down every breakable item the Hall of Warriors had. (The Urn of Whispering Warriors was the sole exception; it had already been broken before the party started.)

Where Tigress and Viper were, Po couldn’t say. Neither did he know where Master Shifu was, but he was sure they were doing their best.

———————————————

“Inner peace,” Shifu breathed to himself, trying desperately to ignore the sole pig child gnawing on his shoe.

———————————————

Really, Po reflected as he turned the corner, his real mistake had been teaching Lei Lei how to do Kung Fu. A smart kid was dangerous. A dangerous kid who’d been taught to be dangerous was dangerous-er. But most danger-est of all was a kid who was smart, strong, and adorable.

A fact reflected by the sight before him.

Lei Lei waved at him innocently from across the hallway. “Daddy!” She called.

Po felt a moment of relief. Whatever chaos was ensuing the rest of the Jade Palace, at least his daughter was safe. “There you are. Ah, I was starting to get worried. Didn’t hear a thing.”

Lei Lei smiled with satisfaction. Po’s heart was warmed for a moment, before he noted the shadows slowly opening the doors on the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Po asked, not very sure if he wanted to know the answer. At the very least, he knew now where the kids went.

Lei Lei still smiled, but it was the smile of victory. “Destwoy him my awmy!”

————————————————

Viper savored the smooth warm comfort of her tea. “You think it’s all right letting the guys watch the kids?”

Tigress waited to answer, finishing her own cup. “If Po is good at only three things, it’s cooking, Kung fu, and kids. I’m sure he has-“

They were cut off as a familiar cry of distress rang across the Jade Palace. Tigress heaved a deep, long suffering sigh before finishing her thought. “-. . . Absolutely nothing in hand.”

Viper have a sympathetic smile. “Want me to check on them?”

Tigress stood. “It’s fine. I’ll save him.”

————————————————

A few minutes later, Tigress found Po. Or more accurately, she found the mass of hyperactive children currently smothering him.

“Am I interrupting anything?” She asked rhetorically.

“Tigrehf?” A muffled voice called from beneath the squirming playful mass. “I don’f mean to scare you, but I fhink our daufter is drying to take ofer the world. And I don’f know if I can ftop her.”

Tigress smirked. “I guess then I’ll just have to catch her!” Her announcement came with exaggerated menace and showy growls near the end. The mass of fur and feathers fled in delighted terror.

Tigress spared a moment to look at the Dragon Warrior in all his overwhelmed, completely unprepared glory. “Want to tag out for a bit?”

Po waved away the suggestion, still panting for breath. “Nah, nah, it’s fine. I’ll be chasing them in a second.”

Tigress huffed in amusement. “I’ll be herding them for a bit. You join me when you’ve caught your breath.”

Po’s head collapsed “I love you so much.”

Tigress smirked as she squatted down to look Po in the eye. “Oh don’t say that just yet. You’ll be making it up to me later. After she’s gone to bed.”

“Eh,” Po said in lieu of a question.

“I’ve been thinking,” Tigress continued. “It could be nice to give Lei Lei a little sister. Don’t you think?”

Po’s face turned red. “Eh-Heh. Like we don’t have enough to do, right?”

Tigress theatrically pulled herself up to full height. “Of course, if you don’t feel like you can handle another. . .” She started to walk after Lei Lei and company.

Po pulled himself to his elbow’s “No no, I can totally handle it. It’ll be fun!”

Tigress smiled as she started to run. “Then come on; we can’t let our daughter take over the world just yet!”

Po was laughing in full as he sprinted after her.

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty Ch. 13

A Homelander x F! Reader/Dadlander fic

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this whole story this is officially the final chapter but I've written an epilogue and should post that soonish as well as a part 2 of my masterlist. Hope y'all enjoy this story a smuch as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 13

Love

He’s more than grateful for his suit as your hand tried to choke the life out of him– only pulling on his collar as you screamed in agony. The epidural had done jack shit, and now you found yourself relieving some terrible memories only this time you could actually curse at the bastard responsible for it all.

Homelander had barely made a sound, keeping sight of the newborn as your muscles pushed and the doctor’s hands jammed themselves inside you to take the head, your tears, screams and curses nothing but white nose, he only wanted to hear the sound of new cries.

The blanket obscuring the sight for you, he looked back at you catching your brain and skull until he shut it off.

“Why isn’t she crying…?” you panted, your body shivering and the pain burning your entire lower half feeling your body trying to re-adjust and struggling with it– John…?”

The doctor and the nurse took the baby rubbing its back and clearing its airways, Homelander just broke the side of the bed into a fine dust as he awaited for any sound.

Any sound other than your spiked blood pressure.

It was all so silent, even if everything was screaming around him.

‘cough’

Wet coughs, and then crying.

His sight following their sullied hands wrapping her on a towel as they brought the wriggling and screaming mass towards you, you sobbed with a smile as the baby screamed, Homelander winced as her cries were more than just deafening, they were rattling the thinnest parts of the equipment surrounding youse, you cringed bringing a weak hand to your ear as the baby whimpers teased the arrival of a banshee.

“That’s going to be a problem.” you said weakly, holding the baby closer to your face as her cries lowered in intensity– hi… hi… Genevieve…”

You tried not to cry but you couldn’t help it as you finally were able to hold her.

Homelander was unable to look away as he caught her pale blue eyes and pale blonde hair.

He threw his remaining glove wherever wanting to hold her, you passed her still connected to her towards him as his whole body leaned towards you in desperate anticipation.

Crying without making a sound, his eyes unblinking as his daughter squinted, she had a lot of hair for a newborn, even some eyebrows too– just like in Helena’s pictures Helena, he thought.

His hands finally felt the rush, he whimpered as his finger touched the fresh skin cooling down, cleaning some of the spit forming on the corners of her mouth.

Homelander could have stood like this for hours if not days, just watching her, just wanting to cement this memory so deep into his being that he could feel her weightlessness forever.

He had no clue what to say, putting her against his chest wishing he had worn a paper thin t-shirt instead of wanting to make a good first impression.

“Fuck.” He wiped the buggers under his nose, trying to breathe and calm down– hey… buddy… princess…” his body shaking more than his voice.

He kissed her forehead, wanting to keep her against him, his eyes shut, he just wanted to remain in this embrace for the rest of his life, that’s until the nurse asked for the baby, his eyes glowed, leaning away from her.

“Hey! Hey! is okay they have to clean her up!” you took his arm.

He looked so spooked, his skin so pale and his expression mortified at the thought of these disinfectant stenched people touching his baby, the nurse gulped as the blinkers refused to turn off.

The room seemed so white and sterile, everything seemed dangerously familiar, his mind thinking he would never see her again if he let them touch her. Did his mother feel the same? Did they rip him away from her or did his mother not even notice… did she not feel this dread? He wondered.

“He can help clean her up, no?” You were too tired to be nervous.

She nodded violently, like a herded lamb he followed the nurse not wanting to let the baby away from his sight.

You could only half-smile as you watched him try his best to follow the nurses, tearing up as the baby complained, his movements too brusk he swore, god knows how bad he was going to get, after you got to take her home.

Ashley looked at the time, ordering your staff around to triple check everything was perfect– that the house wasn’t too bright or loud, no faucet leaked, that not a single speck of dust would be found, that the beds were made and the new pillows were ready, but above that the nursery was set up. Your sitting room had been made into an informal nursery while Helena’s office was returned into a bedroom. Ashley personally inspecting the room making sure everything was perfect– the dark but elaborate wallpaper was spotless, soft and cozy furnishings ready for you, the vintage cot tidy, and all the organic and biodegradable baby cleaning products a person could get their hands on were still unopened. She took a pack of organic 98% water baby wipes squeezing it to make sure it was still wet inside.

“You could have sent an assistant or let the maids take care of this, auntie Ashley.”

She turned to Helena trying not to fluster, her speech manners never failing to make her uneasy, especially after seeing how trigger happy she was in the labs.

She had seen her leftovers.

The failures that had been flattened for easy disposal– she didn’t doubt this was his kid.

“Homelander entrusted me with making sure everything was perfect… and he’s been in a wonderful mood lately… he even hasn’t left any collateral in the last two months!”

“Sure… but I guess him being extra happy means everybody can breathe easily… considering he’s taking 7 months of paternity leave. Already booked that trip to Costa Rica?”

“Actually doing Puerto Rico, instead.”  She smiled.

The idea of not seeing Homelander for over half the year, had a good chunk of the building ready to whip out the champagne bottles and turn the whole place into a never ending New Years party, so she was more than happy to go the extra mile.

“You wanna bet twenty bucks he drags that second cot into the bedroom by the end of the day?” She takes a clean crisp bill out of her dungaree.

“Deal.” 

Her phone buzzed.

“He’s here!”

Helena and Ashley rushed to the stairs, a bit unfair if only one of them could jump from the fourth floor effortlessly-- Helena stopped only by a gentle bubble wrapping her, Ryan straightened his shirt having beaten the both of them to the race.

“Did ya brush your hair?” Ryan asked at the sight of his sister.

“I don’t know how to tell you this but a newborn will not remember how my hair looked like.”

“Your funeral then.”

That felt like half a joke and half a reprimand, she looked at her clothes, the maids had picked her a red dungaree, and a black turtleneck not to mention her shoes had been polished she looked fine despite the messy hair, Homelander had wanted everybody to make a perfect first impression and after two days in the hospital god knew what sort of mood he was on.

The doors opened, you entered slightly dazed and glad when Helena jumped to your side, pulling at your sweatshirt, you wished to pick her up but you had little strength so you bended until you could kiss her head, she cooed under your touch, her gaze quickly headed towards the basket in her father hand, and the light sounds emanating from inside it.

The Competition.

“Feeling better?” Helena asked.

“If you ever have children, do yourself a favor and pay for a surrogate. It doesn’t get better the second time around” You tried to sound lighthearted but you caught that horrified expression creeping in John’s face– hey if you want somebody to shove their whole hand up your ass without warning after they slice your taint go for it.” You were too exhausted to sound genuinely angry.

“Glad you’re back mom.” She said sweetly.

You held your lower back as you straightened and Helena went to peek at the basket, her tiny hands reaching up, and Ryan was soon joining her, tall enough to catch a glimpse of the pink wrapped bundle.

“Genevieve… this is your big brother Ryan and your big sister Helena” His voice is gentle and quiet, watching their hands intensely, trying to catch the imaginary microbes in their fingertips, he caught himself thinking poorly feeling a squeeze in his chest, his mouth formed a thin line, brushing it off before entering your home– and this is home much better than that hospital.”

Ashley finally makes it down, she isn’t too excited to see him but there was the 7 month long vacation, her smile genuine as she almost jumps across those last few steps eager to welcome you both.

“The kids have been amazingly well-behaved, they missed you both a lot!” She catches her heel before crashing against Homelander’s shadow– oh my god, she’s beautiful, just look at those chubby cheeks!” 

The baby squinted with her pale blue eyes, her skin still pink and out of instinct her fingers wags to catch Genevieve’s attention, Homelander stillness catches her attention immediately.

“This is… Ashley… I guess…” His lack of sudden reprimand worries her, but his expression looks so traumatized, she’s unsure what to feel looking directly at you for clues only getting shrugged shoulders in response– Is her room ready?”

“It’s been deep cleansed, everything fluffed and stocked” She puffed her chest– the baby monitor has been set up, top of the line as you asked and I already set-up the app on your phone” She digs into her pocket to hand him his mobile– made sure to get one of our nerds to ensure there were no open back-channels so no pervy creep can access the video feed.”

“People can do that?”

“Oh yeah, you have no idea how many people go day to day not knowing their baby monitor is being seen by some weirdo in Thailand.”

Homelander stared at his phone, then looked up at the camera set up in her bedroom.

“Thank you I had no idea… thanks” He spoke so softly, Ashley stomach sank as if his words were wet cement setting in her stomach– I’m just going to take Genevieve to her room, you can go rest my love” He looked at his kids who looked so confused– you guys want to help mommy get settled in?”

They wanted to see their baby sister but upon seeing those reddened eyes about to burst into lamentations, the impulses died.

“Is he okay?” Ashley whispered into your ear as Helena took you to the couch and Ryan went to grab you some juice– what happened?”

“I have no idea… he hasn’t… he’s been really odd since he first saw her…”

“I imagine seeing his kid is an albino its doing numbers in his little prejudicial brain, dontcha think?” Helena took your bag and handed it to the maid– so in the likelihood of him committing some good ol’ fashion filicide, how do you want to operate?”

Even the maid looked horrified, Helena sight on the ceiling ears unable to pick up any sounds but as her eyes blipped she could see him standing on top of that crib as if he was cosplaying the creepy corner dude from the Blair Witch Project, in black and blurry blue 240p definition.

“What do you mean ‘albino’?” You asked nervously.

“There’s blonde and there is… we should be running up there and check up on them– white.”

Ashley, yourself and the maid gulped in unison, the maid hurried first unsure as to what to say as Ashley and yourself followed.

Homelander didn’t even notice the door opening, he just seemed so firmly planted in the metal rail of the cot, Homelander hadn’t blink or breathe much as he looked at the tiny thing, and even if she wasn’t yours to keep, you took a step forward trying to calm yourself as you poked his shoulder, he jumped on his heel violently awaken from his trance, his head shaking to see what dangers were around but it was only his picture perfect nursery and you three.

“Hey, John…babe– everything alright?” You asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you with exhaustion.

“Oh just wanted to make sure if you needed anything, sir?” The maid asked.

“Thought you might like a bath, you haven’t showered in one day… we don’t want Genevieve thinking you're stinky” You say

“I don’t smell.”

“Your suit smells like chlorine.”

It smelled like a hospital, he looked back at his baby and with a nervous disposition he headed out more obedient than he had ever been in his entire adult life not even looking back at you, nauseous at his own fictitious odor, catching Ashley by the entrance stopping to put a hand on her shoulder just to ground himself once more.

“Do you believe in God, Ashley?”

She almost shat herself.

“Not sure… I was raised a methodist… sometimes– why?” She squeals that last question.

He marchest away just as Ryan gets to the third floor with a glass of juice in his hand, Helena follows him, the brother hands you your drink and turns to his sister trying to ignore whatever had happened on his father’s face, and the smell of fear tingling his nose.

“Hope you get big soon! So we can play baseball together!”

Ashley bit her tongue as she got closer and pulled you into a corner, still shaking severely.

“You want me to get you some security?”

“I think not sleeping for 4 days has gotten to him… keep your ringtone on.”

Helena poured bathing salts and some other powders that turned the hot bath into some green shade, he half-watchest as the maid was hesitant to leave before leaving the little girl to wash her father’s hair as the man seemed more muppet than person, he was a difficult man to work for, almost one wrong word away from lashing out, difficult to please and finicky but right now this was some stranger wearing his face as his head poked out of the bathtub.

“I feel if I blink my eyelids will stay shut forever.”

“When was the last time you blinked?”

“Twenty minutes?”

She took to the medicine cabinet and with a foamy hand she took the eye drops. 

He could finally blink but he found little relief, he let his eyes close as his daughter washed his hair making a slight mess as she took the shower head and washed the apple cider conditioner off his hair.

“You should go to sleep…”

“I am sorry.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am sorry I wasn’t there when you were born… am sorry…” His chest felt so hollow but incandescent, the water was cold compared to the ache burning his body, a pain squeezing his heart, tightening as he gasped– I…”

She poured rain into his nose, letting him choke, he got the odd coughing fit splashing and sloshing as he leaned forward, he turned barely catching himself as Helena took a jar of hair mask off the vanity.

“Good. Sucks to discover new emotions doesn’t it?” She throws the lid aside and hands him the jar– You should feel absolutely awful about being a deadbeat, and about missing out on Ryan because you decided to be a homewrecker… leave the cream on for 3 minutes.”

She hurried off the bathroom, spear heading towards you as she catches you in your bedroom closing the door to find you and Ashley discussing some escape plans.

“We need to leave. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” She shushed, pressing her dry back against the door.

“What?” You pressed.

She quickly explained and all you could do was roll your eyes and flick her forehead.

“Helena!” You turned to Ashley calmly– it’s okay I think I know what’s going on please take her and Ryan downstairs… You start writing your apology letter!”

You waited till the floor was empty, heading towards the bathroom just stopping by the sitting room before to catch a glimpse of your gargling bub who seemed to enjoy the colorful toys spinning on top of her head.

You jumped as wet hands touched your arms.

“Goddammit!” 

Homelander laid his chin on your shoulder, his wet hair dampening your ear and neck. You tried turning but he kept you still, his long eyelashes clumped together and his gaze firmly placed on her.

He wrapped you in his hot embrace, the steam frizzing your hair. 

“Sorry about Helena… you seem tired, John”

“I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to miss a single second… what if something happens?”

He ignores you, holding his entire weight against you.

“Nobody, it's going to come here and steal our baby… no doctor is going to put her in a cage… we are safe John…” You whisper, leaning forward to stroke your baby’s cheek– so what’s bugging you?”

“You think I’m going to be a good father?”

You laugh a little, trying your best to turn around but he wouldn’t let you budge out of his grip, you could feel a light tremble in his hand and knees, your words frightened him– his mind back in that awful room but now it wasn’t him sitting alone in the bare room, not him sitting squeezing at his blanket but his daughter and no matter how much he bashed the metal door there was not a single dent to be seen.

“A bit late to ask three kids in… I dunno that’s not for you to decide… no matter what we do now we cannot be certain of our choices until they grow up and let us know. All we can do is try our best– just try your best, and if you need help then that’s what I'm here for.”

“What if I fuck it up?” He whimpered into your shoulder.

“What if I fuck it up, too?”

He lets go of you, letting you catch a glimpse of his wet torso and the damp stain around his toes, he moved to pick her up only stopping himself as his wet hair stained her pink onesie.

“I know you have only been a dad for like– what 3 or 4 years when you got Ryan and with Helena not even 2… but you’re doing okay. A few things here and there that are questionable but I can’t say I can judge, I am always wondering if I am treating Helena the right way, or if I am not overstepping with Ryan… but you won’t because as much as I struggle with you… you do love Ryan… You love Helena and god you truly love Genevieve… just the way you looked at her… I don’t think I could ever believe that you could make such a face.”

“She’s so beautiful” He tears up, sobbing– I don’t think I've ever seen something so pretty before… like she shouldn't be mine…”

“John... oh she's just as pretty as you... as pretty as Helena was and am sure just as pretty as Ryan was” You let him cling to you, his sight glued on her as he cried.

He smiled, as her heartbeat flooded his senses, as he caught Ryan’s steady song above and Helena’s rapid rhytimns below.

This was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed, he looked up to face you, cleaning his tears with the back of his hand, trying not to be loud as the baby cooed awake, gargling and kicking her legs.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance… I won’t fuck it up… I won’t” His voice held back from sobbing– I’ll be better.”

“You better… otherwise I’ll be taking the house” You chuckle softly kissing his cheek.

He laughed awkwardly, making your cheeks blush as he stared at you with adulation written in his eyes. You've given him everything he’d ever wanted, he made a silent oath to give you everything in return, you just didn’t know it yet.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, you thought as you stared at that loving gaze, thinking that all the pain you endure would be returned with a mountain of blessings... after all that was what you had hoped for all those years ago.

“Thank you.” He whispered into your lips.

You smiled into his kiss thinking things were finally right for you... for you both.

taglist-- @immyowndefender @demodemo909 @ghqst-fqce @fromforeigntofamiliarity thank you all for reading this hope you can enjoy my future projects and will tag y'all for the epilogue too.

as a little treat here are the 5 songs that inspired this fic:

[running-with-the-feels]

Reunion part 2!!!

I think I've finally got it mostly worked out so, hope y'all like it (shoutout to @andybeanblog for enabling my nonesense)

Kuai Liang and Frost sit across from each other at a low table, steaming mugs of tea in front of them.

Kuai Liang: You said your name was Frost?

Frost nods

Kuai Liang: I apologize for my reaction earlier, I should not have called you by that name

Frost, fighting back hope: Why did you?

Kuai Liang: I....

He takes a deep breath, clenching his teeth against the tears that threaten to spill

Kuai Liang: Many years ago, I was on a mission for the old Lin Kuei. I had been granted more leeway than usual so I decided to be reckless and...indulged. I did not realize that I was pregnant until after I had completed my mission.

Frost's eyes go wide as she clenches her hands in her lap, listeningintently

Kuai Liang: I knew what they would do to my child should I go back to them and I could not-

Kuai Liang's eyes slam shut as a shudder rolls through him

Kuai Liang: I could not bear the thought of that. So I ran instead, and I kept running until my daughter was born and I named her Nuan, after my grandmother.

Frost, voice cracking: And then she died?

Kuai Liang, chuckling as silent tears stream down his face: No. She was perfect, down to every last hair on her head. But the Lin Kuei had begun hunting me and there was no possible way for me to keep her safe from them, not on my own.

Kuai Liang wipes his face with his hands as he collects himself

Kuai Liang: I went to Raiden and begged for sanctuary, he was the only person I could think of that the grandmaster feared. I knew that if Nuan was in his care, she would be safe from them

Frost, huffing a laugh to ease the atmosphere: I suppose being a monk is a pretty okay life too

Kuai Liang's eyes slam shut as his shoulders shake, the cryomancer pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle his near silent sob

Frost:.......that's when it happened isn't it?

Kuai Liang, nodding: Raiden refused to provide us both with sanctuary, fearing war with the Lin Kuei so I-.....I made a choice. And I think it was the wrong one.

Frost's eyes widen in shock as she reaches up to wrap her hands around her mug.

Kuai Liang: I left her there, trusting that she would be safe and then, when I went back for her, when it was finally safe enough to- She was-

Kuai Liang cuts off with another strangled sob

Kuai Liang: She was already gone

Frost, voice small and fragile: You went back?

Kuai Liang: The moment I had recovered enough to stand after the Netherrealm invaded and the Lin Kuei imploded, I went back to find her. I knew she would likely want nothing to do with me but I just wanted- just to see her, to know that she was well, to hear her voice.

Kuai Liang takes a deep breath, and then another.

Kuai Liang: Raiden said that she had died years ago, and the bastard didn't even give her a grave

Frost:..........

Frost, staring at her mug: I had a blanket, at the orphanage. It was the only thing I owned, and I knew that I owned it bc it had my name on it

Kuai Liang's brow furrows in confusion

Frost: Every foster family they put me with kept trying to change it, apparently four fucking letters is just too hard to learn to say, but, I never let them

Kuai Liang: Of course not, it is your name

Frost: And it was proof

Kuai Liang: Of what?

Frost, finally looking up to meet his eyes as tears pool in her own: That you'd loved me.

Kuai Liang's eyes go wide with shock and hope

Frost: I always knew that, yknow? Even before I knew my own name, I knew that you'd loved me down to my bones. It was the first thing I knew, the only thing I knew for a fact was true.

Frost laughs bitterly

Frost: And everyone kept saying I was crazy for thinking that but I knew it, I knew. No matter how many times they tried to make me forget it, I knew that.

Kuai Liang stands up from the table, walking around to her side to kneel in front of her.

Frost, crying: And I thought you must've died bc I didn't know any other reason that you wouldn't be there and I-....I didn't want to doubt it, I didn't wanna forget but I was so, so alone and I knew that you'd loved me but sometimes it felt like I'd dreamed that up and I just-

Frost cuts off as Kuai Liang raises a shaking hand to cradle her cheek

Kuai Liang: What was the name on the blanket?

Frost: Nuan. My name is Nuan.

Kuai Liang huffs in relief as he pulls her in for a hug, holding her like he's afraid she'll disappear the moment he lets go.

Kuai Liang, with breathless wonder: My baby. My baby, you're alive.

He presses kiss to her head as she melts against him, beginning to sob

Kuai Liang: I missed you so much, and I'm so sorry I wasn't there.

Frost: It's okay, you wanted to be, I know that

Kuai Liang: I wanted that more than anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I wasn't and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, okay?

Frost: Okay....Dad

Frost and Kuai Liang both break out in grins despite their tears

Kuai Liang: I've wanted to hear you say that for years

Frost: I missed you too

lemme know if y'all want more of this au (Yknow, since Hanzo helped deliver her in this au, their relationship would probs be very different) and Raiden better watch out bc now Frost has a grudge and a person to blame

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Teenage Years

13 Years Old

After Grace passed away YN watched her older brother struggle with juggling the business, Charles and her. She tries to keep out of Tommys way, which isn't to hard because he's always in his office. But one of her best memories is Charles 5th birthday. Tommy had invited all of the Shelby's over and for the first time in so long YN was surrounded by her family.

"Happy birthday Charlie boy" Arthur shouts ruffling the little boys hair. He makes his way over to his youngest sibling who is sat with Finn and Micheal playing cards

"Ha I've won" Finn shouts taking the cards from his sister

"Oi Finn your 17. Don't be a child" Arthur scolds making YN and Micheal laugh. Arthur sits next to YN and takes the cards from Finn "I'll help ya"

Tommy, for the first time in what feels like forever, smiles watching his family all together and for YN this is the happiest she's felt since before her brothers left for war.

14 Years Old

Although YN was getting older she was still a kid at heart, but since Finn turned 18 he no longer had time for his baby sister. He was at the pub with his friends more and more. Arthur had his wife and daughter, Ada had Karl, Tommy was busy with the business and now Micheal had married someone who everyone despised... even Linda didn't like her. Her brothers weren't as close as they once were and she noticed that. Thankfully she had her nephew and niece, Charles and Ruby. Yes the were younger than her, but she played with them and told them stories about when their dad would play with her when she was their age

"Why doesn't dad chase me around?" Ruby asks her aunt

"He never used to be so busy. It was just me Arthur, John, Ada, Finn and your dad living with Aunt Poll. We only had the betting shop to worry about back then" YN looks down at her hands sadly

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. I don't miss it just being us because else I wouldn't be an auntie. But I miss us all living together in that small house in Small Heath. I miss being a kid and having my brothers playing with me. Promise me you two will stay close. Forever"

"We promise" Ruby smiles at her aunt. Little did YN know her big brother was listening.

16 Years Old

At 16 years old YN started getting interested in boys. She had been dating a boy she met at school named James. However she has been keeping this a secret from her family because they are so protective of her.

Things had been going well until she found out that James was courting not only YN but 2 other girls.

Arriving home from school YN tries to avoid Tommy and Lizzie who are sat on the sofa reading

"YN?" she hears Lizzie but runs up the stairs not wanting to face anyone. Shutting her bedroom door she gets into her and let's the tears roll. Her bedroom door swings open and there's Tommy walking in with a cigarette handing out his mouth

"What's happened?" Tommy grunts sitting one the chair beside her bed

"Nothing. It's fine"

"It's not fine because my little sister is lying in her bed crying. So what's happened?" Tommy asks again but this time irritation laced in his voice. Sitting up YN wipes the tears from her eyes then looks up at her brother

"Promise you won't go mad and blind someone"

"Can't promise anything. Spill" YN takes in a deep breath then tells her brother her secret. Instead of her brother leaving in a rage he pulls his youngest sibling into his arms and holds her close telling her everything will be ok.

18 Years Old

After her last attempt to have a boyfriend, Tommy instructed Isaiah to keep an eye on YN. Being 5 years older than his baby sister, who no longer is a baby, Tommy thought that neither would have eyes for one another. However after 6 months of Isiah following YN around they both developed feelings for one another. After a year of courting they decided it was about time they come clean with the Shelby family. A meeting was held at the Garrison where Isaiah would have to face the Shelby brothers, Ada and aunt Poll

"I told you to keep an eye on her not warm her fucking bed" Tommy shouts standing up from his seat

"Tom..." YN's little voice tries to speak

"Your 5 years older than her" Tommy points to Isaiah who looks sheepish "she's 18 for fucks sake"

"5 years isn't that bad Tommy" Ada tries to defend her sister. YN gives her a thankful smile "Freddie and I had a larger age gap"

"Yeah and look how that turned out" Arthur grunts

"Well YN could have done worse. At least she's seeing someone we already know" Finn shrugs his shoulders not really wanting to have this conversation

"Are you happy?" John asks

"Very" YN tells him

"And you" johns attention now moves to Isaiah "you'll look after her. Keep her safe?"

"Of course"

"Then I guess this is fine. But hands stay above hips"

"John" YN whines feeling a little embarrassed

"And no sex" Tommy adds earring an eye roll from Polly, YN and Ada. Tommy walks over to his sister and Isaiah. Giving her a kiss on the forehead before leaning down and threatening Isaiah "don't hurt her or I'll have to blind you"

[immoralimmortals]

Akatsuki Member Songs and Headcanons

I have had years to ruminate to myself on certain songs I listen to that get associated with certain Akatsuki. I'm gonna try to present some of these pairings in a comprehensive way for you guys.

I can 100% replicate this post several times over with different songs and explanations, so I most likely will. We will see! Songs are linked within the post.

Pain: Mr. FEAR by Siamés

This man wants to fix everything, and yet if you look deep enough, he is absolutely crumbling. He is the Mr. Fear, literally, to instill fear in order to bring what he dictates as peace. The song itself is simultaneously calm and chaotic. Despite how conflicted he ends up being, every single contradiction is still said as a command to the listener.

Standout lines:

I wish I had a faster therapy

I've come to mind control your needs

Just trust in me, my dear

Don't fight with me, my dear

Don't trust in me, my dear What cure is coming near?

Konan: Youth by Daughter

Youth, hope, suffering. She has experienced life in that order, and it has left her an angel in constant mourning. This song is, to me, the retrospective side of her, the part of Konan that is still a scared and hurt young lady, the place in her mind that inspires her to keep going for something better. I specifically associate this song more with her loss of Yahiko and the original Akatsuki than her actual childhood.

I could literally quote the whole song for her, so I recommend you listen if it seems interesting. Here's some painfully selected lyrics:

And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

We are the reckless, we are the wild youth Chasing visions of our futures One day, we'll reveal the truth That one will die before he gets there

Collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home It was a flood that wrecked this home

Zetsu: Dangerous by Big Data

This song sort of changed my brain chemistry, both in general and about Zetsu. If you pair the (honestly very strange and parodic) music video with the content of the lyrics, it creates an idea of heightened awareness of insidious knowledge and, though it is meant about modern advertisements, I also take it about being spied on in general, being dangerous because of your knowledge of the world against you. When I started associating this song with Zetsu, I began seeing him more as an active character than one that merely is there. His spying has purpose, he has motives.

Standout lines:

You understand, they got a plan for us I bet you didn't know that I was dangerous

Nobody's listening when we're alone Nobody's listening, there's nobody listening, No one can hear us when we're alone No one can hear us, no, no one can hear us And I've gotta get out of here Sink down, into the dark

How could you know, how could you know? That those were my eyes Peepin' through the floor, it's like they know It's like they know I'm looking from the outside And creeping to the door, it's like they know

And especially if you're in a shipping mood:

It must be fate, I found a place for us I bet you didn't know someone could love you this much

Tobi/Obito: Dirty Imbecile by The Happy Fits

Being an Uchiha is hard, you know? The expectations, both from your clan and from everyone else... Obito really put the bar of achievement really high because he thought that's where he'd finally be respected, so much as acknowledged. This is a song about being much more deep down than the fool you seem to others, the righteous desire to be worth your many efforts.

Standout lines:

Damn this town and damn this city You never give me anything that I want No one seems to really care They're just wholly unaware Of all the blood and sweat I cry before dawn

Am I good? Is all I could enough for you? I'm so scared of when and where I'll find the truth

Count my little scars, I've got dozens down inside I come complete and invincible behind my dirty imbecile

Hidan: Nothing Personal by Night Riots

Relaxed yet vicious, I think this is a good pairing to think about how he must strut about, preaching of Jashin. You can't be better than him. He will always know better, be better, believe better. Self-centered prick. I adore his confidence.

Standout lyrics:

The center of the world is lonely me Float along through the catacombs The endless cycle, flesh to bones

I’ll be the king, you’ll be the filth I wash away Nothing personal, personal, personal I am the light, I am the truth, I am the way Nothing personal, personal, personal

I’ll take your crown, I’ll make it mine As you sulk your days away Numb yourself and think of me

Kakuzu: Ain't No Rest for the Wicked by Cage the Elephant

I highkey associate a lot of the themes from the Borderlands series with Kakuzu, featured songs included. This song is pretty self evident to me, overtly about how money motivates people. In my view of Kakuzu, he has crafted over his many decades of war and hardship this encompassing, compassionless worldview of why people do things. If you say "money is the only thing that matters" and you're older than like, a five year old who got their first dollar, you are going to have a strong and elaborate justification for it. It's a song about hard truths about humanity, some things that will never change and you need to accept without taking it personally.

Standout lyrics:

Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked Money don't grow on trees I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed There ain't nothing in this world for free Oh no, I can't slow down, I can't hold back Though you know, I wish I could Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked Until we close our eyes for good

He made it clear he wasn't looking for a fight He said, "Give me all you've got, I want your money, not your life But if you try to make a move, I won't think twice" I told him, "You can have my cash, but first you know I gotta ask What made you want to live this kind of life?"

I saw a preacher man in cuffs, he'd taken money from the church He'd stuffed his bank account with righteous dollar bills But even still I can't say much because I know we're all the same Oh yes, we all seek out to satisfy those thrills

Deidara: Fear & Delight by The Correspondents

Brief aside: gorgeous music video, very skillfully made. Deidara would love it. Certainly a mastercraft of editing and camera tricks.

Dynamic, vibrant song. My partner has used this song as a pairing with another character, comparing the love interest in the song to courting something you really probably should not be. Deidara courts with destruction and death with absolute abandon. His art is beautiful. His art will hurt him. He's so, so okay with that.

In addition, I think this song describes really well how he approaches things that are novel and perhaps frighten him.

It is, again, literally the whole song but here's a couple of lines:

I'm a little boy that's gonna be getting his fingers burned But I can see this lesson's gotta, gotta, gotta be learned

In any case, my friends, it's too late Like a moth to light, like a beast to bait And I know the black widow eats its mate

I'm an innocent being seduced by your charms I'm a young boy tickled to death in your arms Your kisses taste like bitter almonds

Addiction pulling me to a grave end You're an enemy who I'm keen to defend Down the black hole of my lust I descend

Why is it that I'm keen to be devoured by you When there's the option of a love affair that's pure and true? I always choose the dungeon over the sea view

It's wrong but I want you tonight

Sasori: Body by Mother Mother

This guy hates every inch of his human body. As soon as he realized he could change himself, every cell of skin, every drop of blood, every breath of air was cursed. As long as he is flesh and bone, he suffers. This includes even the barest hint of humanity in the cylinder that is his heart. If he could get rid of it, he would. The body only exists to get in the way. He will break these confines.

It is. Yet again. Just the entire song that works for him. Here are a few lines:

Take my eyes, take them aside Take my face, and desecrate Arms and legs, get in the way Bodies break

'Cause I've grown tired of this body A cumbersome and heavy body I've grown tired of this body Fall apart without me, body

Kisame: Promiseland by Mika

It's no secret I adore thinking about Kisame's worldview, and I think this song is a wonderful insight into it. He is the definition of disillusioned, trying to find out what he can really depend upon, if anything. He has nothing to lose. He's already lost it all.

Standout lyrics:

Sold my soul, broke my bones, tell me, what did I get? Did my time, toed the line, ain't seen anything yet Strike me down to the ground, you know I've seen it before Make it hurt, I'll eat the dirt, I just don't care anymore

I kept my promise, man, show me the promiseland

And the whole world's bringing me down

One person's lie is just another man's truth We kept on running from the devil, but the devil was you Every time I see the light, I'm falling deeper in debt If I've never seen the good, how can it come to an end?

Itachi: The Villain I Appear to Be by Connor Spiotto and Molly Pease

Itachi puts his mission first before anyone's impression of him, even that of his beloved brother. However, he can still yearn for his understanding, his respect. The song reflects on doing the right thing without slowing down to explain, lest it be too late, and hoping the pieces may be put together later. Maybe it'll be in your favor, maybe not. That doesn't matter as much as the outcome of your actions.

Standout lyrics:

Nothin' left to do but Try to take the leap and follow through And that's exactly what I'll do

I don't plan on slowing Down, no I'll keep on going Even if you think I'm in the wrong

I know that's what I'm here for I don't wanna wait around anymore Even if you can't see The good inside me

I don't have the time to tell you Why I do the things that I do Just please hold on and soon you'll see That I'm not the villain I appear to be

And I know you think I'm crazy But I hope that maybe Now you'll see why I had to try