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dropsnectar · 6 months ago

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Courting a Queen: Bee Hybrid × Reader Part Two

Hey! So a lot of you wanted the Bee smut, so, here it is! I'm still new to writing smut so please be kind. Also, in @bunnis-monsters universe of Bee Hybrids, its mentioned that they have different types of Honey that have different properties and effects, so I wanted to play with that a little. Also just a reminder that I headcannon that the queen scouting drones are a bit more intelligent than other bee hybrids,, as this works better to lure in a queen! Hope you enjoy!

Everything had happened so quickly, you didn't know quite what to do or think.

You'd just been talking and having fun with a few Bee Hybrids, now suddenly suddenly you were in their hive, they were calling you Queen, and it was getting really hard to talk your way out of this when you had so many tongues on your skin--

“Y-You guys I can't become your… oh God um… there's no way I can become a queen!” You tried your best to gently pull yourself out of their grasp, but the little nibbles Haven was doing on your ear were way too distracting. Elias answered you.

“We know you'd be great. Please dont be mean to yourself.” He pouted at you with big eyes as he worked on pulling down your black leggings. He carefully lifted your thighs as he did so and you noticed that his skin, while smooth and soft, also had a sort of firmness to it that human skin didn't. It made your core burn.

“Are we doing something wrong? Please tell us my Queen, we only want to make you feel good.” Another hand was slowly exploring up your shirt. You looked over at Ray, the black haired hybrid who was staring at you with the biggest, mooniest eyes, like he was a dog begging for a treat. He trailed his hands up and down your belly, his hands were more beelike than the others, and the foreigners of it gave you goosebumps.

Stop it! You can't become Queen! You'd never leave this place!

“I can't do this.” You finally managed, pulling away from Haven and Ray's grasp.

“I have a home. And a job and…”

And not much else. Your parents weren't the kindest, and you only ever saw your friends once every two months. If they remembered you that was.

Elias gently took one of your hands in his. “This can be your home! We would feed you and do whatever you want! You'll never be lonely again. Please. We've been so long without a Queen and…” His antennas drooped. So Did Haven and Rays, their exuberant wings going quiet.

“ We will die soon. Without a Queen our hive will grow weak, and other hives will fight us for our home territory.” Ray leaned his head gently on my shoulder, a whine escaping his chest.

Haven started to tear up. At least, he seemed to cry. “ We need you. We will never stop loving you, and you would never want for anything, please let us keep you.”

Your heart grew heavy. You didn't know much about bees, but you were aware that Queens were super important for the health of the hive. You had only known them for a day, but you couldn't bear the thought of them dying. They were so incredibly sweet after all.

Maybe I could try it for a little bit. I mean, being a Queen couldn't be so bad. You reasoned. And if it becomes too much, I could maybe help them find a new one. Or run away in the night, maybe.

“I'll… give it a try.”

The three of them were in the air at once, pulling on your limbs and jumping up and down. Haven got up and did what seemed like a little happy dance, Elias joining in. While Ray continues to hold onto you and nuzzle you in large excited motions. You watched the two dancing and clapped happily. They buzzed loudly, seeming pleased with your smile and sudden lifted mood. They could feel your affection for them in the air and it bode well.

At that time, the bee-man that Elias had pulled aside earlier knocked on the door, before buzzing in with a cup of something sweet. Well, the whole place smelled sweet, but you noticed steam coming up from the cup. You tilted your head in confusion.

“He added some warm water to help you get it down easier! Your human after all, so thick things may be hard to drink, right?” Elias smiled and handed you the warm little cup. It smelled… well. Like honey. But their was a little heat to it. Maybe cinnamon? Nutmeg?

“Its super special, just for you!” Haven volunteered, as he settled back down to his place on your back left. He busied himself with rubbing your shoulder, then kissing the back of your head sweetly.

All of this attention was making your cheeks rosy. To busy yourself you took an experimental sip of the warm honey. It went easily from your tongue down your throat. Expecting the taste of normal honey, you were surprised by the variety of notes. Still sweet, it indeed had a hefty… spice to it? Like it had been salted and mixed with a little chilli pepper. The heat of it spread from your throat, through your head and your body, making you shiver.

It was a feeling similar to hot chocolate on a long day out in the snow. Delighted, you slurped it down greedily. Ray laughed and the other two hybrids seemed very pleased. They watched you drink the whole cup, pride and their ever present excitement alight on every feature.

You gave the cup back to Elias and smiled dreamily. You finally felt relaxed enough and tried to lie back on the couch, instead ending up in Ray and Havens arms.

“That was really good.” You almost whispered. You were still warm from drink, and a haziness had softly draped itself over your brain. Soft. Warm.

Probably tired from a long day, you thought with a giggle. What a silly day it had been. What a silly situation.

Elias set the cup down on a table towards the door and floated toward you, a hungry look in his eye. Ray had decided to lap at your jaw now, making you shiver, again marveling at the strange texture his tongue had. Almost like a cat but smoother? Somehow? It felt good.

The room was filled with pleasant buzzing and purring, as several pairs of hands started working your skin. Haven was now exploring the inside of your shirt, pulling excitedly at your bra. He felt around for a little bit, trying to find the latch. You noticed, through a big mirror by the door that his tongue was sticking out the whole time. You giggled. So cute.

A sudden nip to your inner thigh made you jolt. Elias had made his place between your thighs again and had started licking and nipping to getting your attention. He pouted at you until you gave him full eye contact.

“I'll get to breed you first, since I found you.” Elias said in the most innocent tone you almost didn't comprehend it. Until he was licking at your clothed cunt with his long black tongue. You whined a bit, in surprise and pleasure. It felt good.

Haven must have figured out your bra because suddenly you felt fingers on your chest now. They moved around haphazardly, watching your face for a reaction. When one found your nipple you bit your lip and pried your gaze away from Elias for an instant. Havens face lit up in a smile.

“ Can I take this off, my Queen?” He asked in his delicate textured voice. You nodded and lifted your arms for them. A sudden jolt pulled your gaze back down to Elias, who was pouting at you. He had pulled your underwear aside and had started licking fervently between your lips. Those big, adoring eyes did as much to you as his tongue and you moaned out.

You were suddenly ablaze now, your core dripping and needy. It was sudden, and your hazy mind tried to work out how they'd got you gushing so fast. They were obviously new at this, reaching around trying to find your best spots, but you needed more.

“T-take them off, please.” You begged Elias quietly, as your breath was quite ragged. Elias complied happily. You opened your legs wider for him, and he was able to push your lips apart farther so he could get a look at you. Enchanted, he took a finger and drew circles around you, noting when and where you would flinch, and jerk your hips. After experimenting a bit more he decided to suck on your most sensitive place: Your clit.

You howled out as he sucked and licked you, the texture of his tongue so different from anything you'd felt before.

Haven and Ray were buzzing so loudly as the licked you, groping your sweet tummy, and sucking where they could. Ray had decided on sucking and when you sang for him, he started trilling with glee. Seeing this, Haven did the same. Their hands continued to roam.

The sucking of your tits and the attention on your clit were getting you close. The pressure in your stomach was mounting, and when Elias had decided to move two of his delicate fingers into your entrance you came hard around him, full body quaking. Drool pooled down your face as you gasped, stars filling your vision.

“ Such a good Queen, coming for us so well.” Praised Ray, before he went back to assaulting your nipple with his tongue. Haven giggled and buzzed in agreement.

When you came down from your high, you were surprised to find yourself still wanting, wriggling, your skin so sensitive and desperate for more touch that you bucked yourself back into Elias’ face. The confusion persisted and you were about to ask a question when Elias answered.

“Don't worry, Our Love, we made sure you'd feel good enough to take all of us. Our honey truly is special. You won't feel any pain, we promise!”

The honey'd been… an aphrodisiac?

Something about that should have bothered you but all you could think about was having something inside you. Of wanting more of their touch, more more more-

You chocked as Haven started rubbing your clit, the sweet pressure bringing you some relief. Elias was taking his human clothing off now, revealing his lower half. His cock was long. Long, but super pretty and pink. You licked your lips as he lined it up with your wet entrance. His big, clear eyes stared at you with such devotion it bordered on worship, before he plunged himself within your needy walls.

You cried out, and it was like a wave of pleasure crashed through the room, as everyone sighed. He started slow, working himself further and further inside you as he went. The stretch and rhythm felt so good, you tried to work in time with him. His length was slick and warm and being so close to him only made your affection grow. You couldn't help it.

Ray and Haven were moaning in your ear. They were still sucking your tits, but were humping whatever bit of you they could, desperate and needy.

You wanted to help them but each stroke Elias was working in you felt so good your mind couldn't think properly. You stayed like that for a while, Elias hitting your best spots, sending you closer and closer to your limit, before he seemed to come, hard, a guttural sound leaving his throat.

But instead of feeling hot, wet cum, you felt something push against your walls. A ridge was forming inside of you, pushing up through his member. The stretch was delicious and you keened as another traced its way up your walls. A sudden soft wetness, and a heaviness was felt at the innermost part of you. You'd never felt anything like it before and your walls twitched around it. An egg.

Your mind raced back to an earlier comment. You'd completely forgotten about the eggs. But your mind was so gone all you could do was whine at the tightness, as another was laid in you, and you came again, another wave of pleasure racking your mind and body.

It went on like this, him laying one after the other, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. You could tell Elias was getting utterly spent, his rocking movements slowing, the erratic flaps of his wings getting more labored. Drool continued to pool out of his mouth. His heavy meaningful gaze was now glassy and tired. You wanted to hold him.

When the last egg was laid within you, Ray took his place in a flash. As Elias took his spot on your right, lazily sucking on your collarbone, Ray pushed himself in fully in one go. His dick was thicker, and not as long as Elias’, but it felt amazing around the eggs.

“My turn. You'll take my clutch so well, I know it.” He reassured, rubbing his thumb like limbs on your hips as he slowly rutted into you. He was whispering praises about your beauty and how well you were doing the whole time. The stretch of his dick felt so good as he fucked the eggs further into you, adding his own. He was quicker than Elias to lay though. His eggs were much bigger, making you sputter a bit as you took them. It seemed that Bee-men came continuously as they laid their spawn, because he was a glassy eyed, babbling mess the whole time he pushed more into you.

Haven took the longest time to lay, despite fucking you the fastest and hardest of the three. He giggled, so happy and pussydrunk the whole time.

“My Queen, it feels so good. Am I making you feel good?”

“So good,” you confirmed through shaggy breaths. “So good. My good boy.” You could feel a shock throughout the room and Haven smiled so big through his sweaty curls, that you couldn't help but return it. His hips rocked into you faster now, though he was still careful of your eggs.

The other two pouted, making crying vibrating sounds. “My good boys.” You corrected. “Doing so well.” you were so close to cumming again it was hard to think, but you reached both hands up to caress them both. Consoled, they clung to you even tighter, as if that was possible, whispering praises back. You were such a good queen, taking so many eggs. So good and sweet.

Their words brought you over the edge at the same time Haven let out a loud trilling sound. He collapsed forward onto your lap, licking at your now extended belly. You both shook, riding out your high.

The room smelled of sweat, and their saccharine aroma. You realized you'd become a bit addicted to the scent, nuzzling closer into the soft fur of your new family.

You lay there for a time, letting your bee-men fuss over you. They wiped the sweat from your body and cooed at your stomach, at how adorable you were being so full, and taking so many eggs.

“Our lovely Queen. Did so well for you first mating.” Elias had glowed with pride for you, then nuzzled into your neck in that way of his. “The rest of the hive is just going to love you. But for now, rest.” He petted soft loving strokes down your forehead. The motion was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting sleep consume you.

Before you completely lost consciousness, you heard a worried Haven whisper, “I hope she makes us her attendants. It'd be such a shame to only see her when its our turn to mate.” You felt some nodding onto your shoulder and buzzing of agreement. You'd have to remember to ask them about it when you awoke.

Hey guys! Was this too long? Would love some constructive feedback about what you'd like to see more of! Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

#bee hybrid #bee hybrids #bee hybrid × reader #monster fucker #monster lover #teratophillia #terat0philliac #monster

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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

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I absolutely love your writing!! Your writing and fics are just *chef's kiss*. Please write one where they tell us to "sit down." And Please!!!! Make us sit down!! I want to be sat.

Anon!! Oh my goodness! You're so freaking sweet!! Thank you for dropping into my ask box and leaving this little prompt. You want to be sat, anon? Do you? Because I do. If I was having a little argument with one of them, and they told me to sit down, my ass would be sat immediately. No question.

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, brief alcohol, arguing, butt grabbing, kissing, established relationship

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You’re being a brat, love.”

“Then punish me,” you snap back, arms out at your sides.

“That’s exactly what you’re hoping for. Isn’t it?”

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. John is right, but you don’t want to admit it. “You don’t order me around. That’s not how this works.

“That’s exactly how this works,” growls John. He strides forward and grabs your ass, squeezing hard.

You gasp, hands fisting the front of his shirt.

“Sit. Down,” he murmurs.

You promptly drop onto the sofa.

John’s hand goes to his belt buckle. “Show me that mouth, love.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Can you stop for a second and just bloody listen to me?”

You throw the empty plastic cup at Kyle’s head. He easily knocks it to the side. “Real fucking mature.”

“Fuck you, Kyle.”

You try to walk past, but he grabs your arm. He pushes you up against the kitchen table, holding you so possessively it steals your breath.

“Fuck me? You’d love that wouldn’t you?”

You remain silent and he drops his hands away. “Sit down.”

You drop into the chair, surprised at how quickly you folded.

“Now, love,” he says, pressing into your space. “You’re gonna listen.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“I’ll leave if this is how you’re going to talk to me,” you snap angrily.

Simon strides forward so quickly you don’t have a second to process his movement until he grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. It is a deep, possessive thing that unfurls heat low in your belly.

He draws back, gaze harsh and consuming. “Sit down,” growls Simon, pointing to the sofa behind you.

You hesitate a second before sitting.

Simon leans forward, resting his hands on the back of the sofa, boxing you in. “I’m gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’re bloody pissed, love.”

Johnny grabs the shot glass out of your hand before it reaches your lips.

You whirl on him. “You’re not my boyfriend, Johnny. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Johnny stares you down, and then downs the shot, not grimacing. He places the glass back on the bar top.

“No. I’m not your boyfriend.” He leans in. Lowers his voice. “But I’m the man you get on your knees for and please.”

Your face grows red. “How dare—”

“Sit down,” he commands.

You immediately drop onto the bar stool.

“I’m sat,” you murmur softly.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 12 days ago

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Okay, on a more serious note about “Avatar Seven Havens”, the one thing I’m disappointed about with the series is that it seems like Avatar Studios is too afraid of continuing the thread from Korra. I feel like there was a lot of room to really explore the state of the world after Korra, such as the new Airbenders trying to form their own nation, new alliances being formed, the Avatar feeling more and more like a relic of the past due to the advancement of technology.

Instead, they went the post-apocalyptic route. Sounds interesting, but it also feels like it was done because the writers were either afraid of continuing the world expansion started by Korra or just didn’t know how. Personally, I’m leaning towards they didn’t know how considering how Legend of Korra approached more serious topics (coughnonbenderdiscriminationcough). So instead of dealing with things that are beyond their capabilities, such as complex politics, they wipe the board clean so that it’s back to spirits and magic.

That’s the one thing I’m disappointed by. I’m actually fine with everything else. Korra being a hated figure could work as a meta-narrative on Korra’s actual reputation in the fanbase. The Avatar being a hated figure is something I actually really like since that’s a natural development for this kind of character. If there’s a superhuman figure existing in the world whose main responsibility is keeping the peace between the nations, then none of the nations actually have freedom/autonomy since the Avatar is the world police. It makes sense that the Avatar would eventually be hated once the people realize they have to abide by this superhuman’s authority, especially since the Korra series introduced democracy.

But the post-apocalyptic setting…it feels like a cop-out. In my opinion, it feels like Nickelodeon didnt want the Avatar Universe to get too complex, so they reset the world in a way that the main focus will be on more cartoonish concepts. Sure, post-apocalyptic can still be dark, but the politics of Korra (and even ATLA) are gone now. Even though I have MAJOR gripes with how Korra approached politics, the show at least had the courage to take it on. But now, Nick seems to be pushing for the Avatar Universe to be a lot safer and to take less risks. I mean, look at the ATLA Netflix show, they took away Sokka’s misogyny because they thought it was too much for present day audiences.

I guess we’ll see how this goes. I like some of the ideas, but I’m skeptical overall.

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toxicanonymity · 8 months ago

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The Spread 2: The Window

THOMAS HEWITT X F!READER

WORD COUNT: 3.8k | IN THE SPREAD UNIVERSE SUMMARY: Tommy takes care of you, his captive. He wants you to be okay, but he also has primal needs. WARNINGS: I8+ Dubcon (captivity/Stockholm) unsafe P in V, mild injuries from prior restraints, fingering, cum eating, thumb sucking. See also masterlist. SIZE & HAND KINK - Tommy is much larger than reader, can lift/maneuver her. He is canonically 6'5" and thicc. A/N: divider by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Tommy kept you in the shed. It was a humbling, being at his mercy for your survival, but he attended to your basic needs better than you might have thought. He even unboarded a damaged window to let in some sunlight. From the inside of the shed, he nailed a sheet over the window frame so you could peek out without being seen. Through the old, dirty glass, you could see a tree stump, some logs, and in the distance, the garage where you had been laid out shackled to the table.

—-

In the yard, Tommy chopped wood on the tree stump. It was something to behold – his hulking body bending and flexing with each swing of the ax. His sheer mass. Watching him work, a tingle grew between your legs, and as soon as you felt it, your face heated up. You tried not to watch, instead inspecting the sheet's frayed bottom edge. After the echoes of wood-splitting stopped, you peeked out to see if he was coming your way, but he wasn’t.

He was removing his button-down shirt, a scene that stirred the heat of your core. His upper body was left in a stained white tee that stretched obscenely over his middle, his biceps, and his herculean back.

He resumed splitting the firewood. His weight would jiggle with each impact of the blade. You found yourself hoping his shirt would ride up so you could see just a little more of him, but the shirt was too long. You weren’t even sure if he wore boxers or briefs. What did it matter to you? It was a curiosity, really. All of him was. Such a man, a big, burly man, and something so primal about him.

The memory was hazy — your first physical experience with Tommy, when you were shackled to the big table. You had been delirious with fear and confusion. But you vividly recalled his head between your legs and the way he feasted on you, intruding his tongue, searching for more to drink. And you remembered how hard you came, even if you didn’t really want to.

You could have tried not to think about this. But the alternative was thinking about whether and how you’d ever get out of there. The world outside the shack was terrifying-–the strange, faded world you and your friends had stumbled into.

The property was full of hazardous scrap metal, broken glass, and barbed wire. You didn’t have any shoes. It crossed your mind to push out the window—another hazard in itself—-but the shed was a safe haven in the middle of an apocalyptic hellscape. If you could teleport home, sure, you would, but the thought of what lay outside the shed made you content to stay put for the time being. You had a feeling Tommy wouldn’t let you go anyway. He didn't say so. He didn't say anything at all. But it was the way he had yanked you back to him when you merely crawled toward the garage door. There was no way he would let you go, as long as he noticed you leaving.

You told yourself the danger outside was the only thing keeping you there. You told yourself Tommy was a bad man, or at best, a dangerous man. It was certainly safer to have him on your side. It was safer to have his protection. You tried to ignore the throb between your legs when you watched him. But you couldn't stop yourself from conjuring the sensation of his massive hands wrangling you to your feet, hauling you over his shoulder, gently nestling you into the wheelbarrow, covering you with blankets. It made your chest flutter to think about. With fear or desire, you couldn't be sure.

A while after Tommy finished his chore, the squeak of the wheelbarrow approached the shed. He unlocked it and pushed it open. The rays of light that poured in were full of dust. He froze for a moment, squinting at the sight of you in his shirt, huddled in the corner. You squinted back at the way his torso stretched his stained t-shirt. Finally, he nodded at you with a soft grunt and began to bring in the freshly chopped wood.

Each piece of wood looked like a twig, the way his hand wrapped around it. As he stacked the logs, the sweet stench of his sweat began to reach you. You felt very aware of your lack of panties and the way every scent hung in the air in this small space – Tommy’s sweat, the wood, the char on his apron.

When he was finished with the wood, Tommy lingered in the shed, wiping his hands off on his pants and looking at the stacks he made.

“Good job, Tommy,” you told him and watched his face soften.

The floor quivered under each step as he thudded toward you. He faced you and cautiously squatted, still looming over you even in his more compact state. You watched his eyes as they scanned your body. When his gaze lingered on your ankle, you realized you were idly caressing skin that had been rubbed raw from the metal cuff he shackled you with in the garage.

You withdrew your hand from the injury and pushed the shirt tail down between your legs, covering yourself as you reflexively tugged your knees closer to your chest. He gave a dissatisfied frown – you couldn’t see much of his mouth through his partial mask, but it colored the rest of his face. He held his enormous hand near your ankle, then glanced up at you hesitantly.

You nodded, and he grazed you so lightly you could barely feel it at first. Your foot looked so small and delicate, framed by Tommy’s hand. His thumb brushed over the discoloration. You winced, not in pain but Tommy huffed. His brows knitted together as he looked up to study your face. Only a moment after your eyes met, he looked down and shook his head at himself, then hesitantly brushed your ankle again, but not directly on the bruise.

“It’s okay,” you offered. “You didn’t mean to.”

He slowly nodded, but didn’t meet your eyes again. He lowered his knees to the floor, kneeling at your feet to inspect the rest of your body.

The other ankle wasn’t as bad, only a small mark. Then he looked at your arms. He took your hand in his and his eyes almost seemed to smile at the contrast of your delicate fingers in the cradle of his palm. He caressed his way up your wrist and arm, looking for damage. Your heart raced, and your insides swelled with need. No damage on that side.

He moved to the other side. He held your hand for a moment, but started at your shoulder this time. His fingers were feather-light on their way down your arm and made your hair stand on end. The exploratory caress drew a soft sigh out of you. Tommy glanced at your face when he heard it. You cleared your throat and looked away, throbbing as his fingers continued their path. His hand froze when he found a small but pronounced scrape on your wrist. He exhaled sharply through his nose, then his eyes weakened.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him,adjusting the shirt tail between your legs with your free hand as you felt yourself getting wet.

He held your wrist and gently caressed it, then let you have your hand back. You put your hands together and rested them between your legs, holding down the shirt tail. His gaze followed your hands, and his eyes narrowed. He looked at you for a second then tugged at the shirttail (his shirttail) that was providing what little modesty you were allowed.

Your heart skipped a beat and you moved your hands out of the way a little too fast, offering him access between your legs. He adjusted himself, and you ached at the thought of his cock. His breathing was shallow under the leather that covered his nose. He slowly, gently lifted the shirt, occasionally glancing at you for permission. He unbuttoned the bottom two buttons and you marveled at how those huge fingers made quick work of it. He pushed the shirt open at the bottom and out of the way.

He scooted back without taking his eyes away, and bent forward to inspect you. A lock of curls fell in front of his eye and he brushed it back, securing it under the tie of his mask. His head was now between your legs, and he braced an elbow on the hay-covered floor. His thumb brushed your inner thigh where it met your torso and you twitched in anticipation of his tongue lapping at your folds. How ravenous he was the day before. But Tommy took his time. He gently caressed your outer lips, one at a time. He lay his hand gently on your mound. He traced your inner thigh creases, eyes studious, concerned.

Then he nudged your legs further apart to make room for himself and braced both elbows on the floor. He used his thumbs to gently spread your outer lips. You held your breath as he simply gazed into his feast. He grunted and his face flushed. You let out a tiny shiver of pleasure and his eyes lept to yours with concern. You felt your face heat up.

He was worried he had hurt you there, too? You were moved by his apparent concern. You felt bad that he felt bad—for putting you in a sleeper hold, shackling you to a table, and having his way with you. Your face bristled when you thought of it that way.

Why did you feel sorry for him? You were just a toy he didn't want to break.

Still, you reassured him, “I’m fine.” He studied your face and nodded, then sniffed.

You should have been relieved when Tommy didn’t force his mouth on you again, but your heart fell when he sat up on his knees.

Tommy hesitantly approached your neck with one hand, and you nodded. He traced your vein. His thumb brushed over the front of your throat, and his fingers lingered where your neck met your shoulder. Then, his other hand came to your shirt, and he unbuttoned the rest of it. His fat fingers were so nimble.

Your nipples sharpened as the last button came undone. He looked at your face again, and this time it felt like more of a warning than an ask. He nudged the fabric apart, over your breasts. He inhaled sharply at the sight of them, but he didn’t let his eyes linger for long until they were pouring over your torso looking for other signs of damage from his ravishing. He ran his fingers and palms over your chest, your tummy, your sides, making your flesh erupt with goosebumps as his eyes scanned each area. Then he inhaled slow and deep as his attention returned to your breasts.

Without looking up, he cradled one breast. He closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the shape of it in his hand. He gently kneaded it. You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Then you felt his hot breath on your tit. You opened your eyes to see his pupils blown out under heavy eyelids as his lips approached. He took your nipple into his mouth and let his eyes close again as he tongued, then sucked it. He seemed to suck as much of your breast into his mouth as he could, grunting softly, before focusing back on your nipple, and suckling at it.

The mask made it hard to breathe through his nose, so he would break the seal of his mouth every couple of seconds before latching on again. He couldn’t seem to get enough, but his mouth was gentle. The pleasure zapped through your chest, down your torso to the floor, where you knew you were making a mess by now. He sucked, and tongued, and moaned, “Mm,” at a pitch that told you his voice must be sexy if he ever spoke. “Mmm,” he moaned into your breast again,and then a moan slipped out of you.

When he opened his eyes, he glanced up at you before releasing your tit. His mouth hung slightly open. He adjusted himself and inhaled a big chest full of air. Your thighs opened slightly, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He palmed himself over his pants and when he took his hand away, your breath hitched at the thick, curved shape sitting on his enormous thigh.

—--

Tommy looked around for a moment, seeming to consider the situation, which was that your legs were spread with him between them.

He reached between your thighs and gently caressed your folds with the backs of two fingers.. The quietest growl escaped his chest. He rubbed himself once over his pants, then he straddled your leg and approached your cunt palm-up. His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at his hand engulfing your pussy. His four fingers barely fit between your thighs. A finger prodded ever so slightly at your entrance, and your hole fluttered needily, making him grunt. You tensed as he wriggled his ring finger inside to the first knuckle. How did you feel so full already? He braced one hand on the wall behind you, and slid his digit further into you with a barely audible gasp. He held his finger there for a moment, enveloped in your snug, throbbing warmth,with you melting under his touch, fully relaxing back against the wall.

Tommy loomed over you on his knees. As he fucked you with his finger, your half-lidded eyes were fixed on the massive erection on his thigh. He prodded your hole with another finger and his hips pushed forward as he tried to wedge it inside with the other. You gasped as the second finger stretched you wide. You whimpered and he withdrew the second digit. He didn’t have to, but it wasn’t what you really wanted anyway.

You found your hand reaching for his thigh. And at first contact, your chest opened up, flooding you with desire. You traced the hard shape in his pants, and the stiff warmth under your palm made you twitch and swoon. It made you needy and sleepy. He moaned, then shuddered and slid his wet fingers out of your cunt.

He glanced behind himself at the door, then unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his underwear.

With you slumped down against the wall, and Tommy on his knees, his massive cock was almost at eye level and you couldn’t look away from it. He held it in a loose fist, and looked you over. He tilted his head, then let go of his cock, letting it bob heavily as he leaned forward and scooped you up with his hands under your arms. He brought you into straddling his folded knees. His cock brushed your folds as his arm wrapped around you, and he held you close. He smelled like fire and man.

He clumsily tried to pull you down without taking care to make sure it was lined up just right.

“Wait,” you whispered. “Just a second,” and you made a move to try to help him find the right place.

But he grumbled and held you tighter. He reached under you with one hand, still holding you with the other. He got his tip into place, then with his massive arm around you, he forced you down on his cock, dividing your walls which were still a little tender from the first time. He groaned as he bottomed out as deep as he could be. You whimpered with the burn and were grateful for the prelude – his painstakingly light touch and feral suckling had made you so wet.

Your body adapted, and soon, the overwhelming feeling was one of being occupied, your insides perfectly rearranged to fit him just right. He held your hips, dwarfing your torso with his massive hands. He held you all the way on his cock, his chest expanding with deep breaths. His cock twitched as your walls slowly welcomed his monstrous girth.

After holding you impaled on his cock for a minute, you briefly spasmed around it. He took a deep breath through his mouth, letting it out as a growl. He began to move you up and down on his shaft, using his hands. It felt like you were split in two. He moved you faster and faster and you whimpered as he bounced you like a rag doll on his massive cock, making your gut dizzy with pleasure the faster he went. You held on tight, gripping his tight t-shirt, then putting your hands around his neck, nestled under his dampening hair, against the cool sweat of his skin.

He got up on his knees and braced a hand against the wall behind you, holding you steady with his other arm. You held on tighter. He thrust into you as he held you steady. He used you as a sleeve for his pleasure. As his massive length pummeled into you, he grunted and sighed. His muffled, feral sounds touched something deep in your core and lit it on fire. The sweat of his shirt wafted into your nostrils. His hair grazed your head as he pounded you.

He stopped, fully seated within your warmth, and nudged his shirt off your shoulders so you were totally nude. Then he began moving you slower, up and down his length. You could feel each vein of his cock as it dragged heavily, pushing itself through your soft, snug channel with each stroke. Your hips moved, grinding you against the softness of his pelvic area. You wedged your hand between the two of you and he flinched at the feeling of your knuckles digging into his belly. He snatched your hand and moved it.

His grip became bruising as he took back control. He moved you at a jackhammer pace and your chest opened up with butterflies as you got closer and closer. He grunted and snarled and you hung onto the edge of bliss until you couldn’t, and you fully unraveled around his cock, whimpering and moaning with each contraction. He fucked you through it until you finally whimpered, “Tommy.” He growled and held you still. He tilted his head at you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the strong musk, the sweat, the char, the wood, as your body drew itself back together.

With you still on his cock, Tommy bent forward and laid you down on the hay-covered floor. It scratched your back, but your body was buzzing so warmly you didn’t mind.

—

He slowly withdrew his length, then he held it in his hand, and you marveled at it-–thick, veiny, dripping. Wild, dark hair wet with a faintly white blend of his precum and you.

He hadn’t cum yet. You wanted him to. You wanted so badly to see him cum. You could smell it, practically taste it.

He braced one hand on his knee and with a barely audible groan, he stood up, pants still undone. You felt a sense of loss as he moved away.

Tommy glanced toward the window, then turned away from you. He squeezed his cock and pulled his underwear up over it.

“No,” you protested. “No, you don’t have to—come back,” you pleaded. “It’s okay.” You got up on your knees. He watched you skeptically, chest heaving. You wondered if he hadn’t cum in front of anyone before. “I would like to,” you started, then cleared your throat. “Please put it in my mouth, I’d really like that.”

He looked at you, frozen.

“Please,” you repeated, then wet your lips and stared at his cock.

He slowly made his way back to you, and you opened your mouth. “I can–” you offered, but he didn’t let you suck it. He brought the tip to your lips, but kept his fist around his length, pumping it slowly. It squelched obscenely with each stroke.

When precum beaded at his tip, your tongue darted out to collect it. He growled, and his free hand seized your jaw, holding your mouth still and open as he continued pumping his cock. Then, when he could hang on no longer, he pointed it into your mouth. He came with a rumble in his chest and a low groan from his throat. The first, thick rope hit the roof of your mouth. The next went directly to your throat. And by the sixth ribbon or so, it was dribbling onto your tongue, thick, salty, and heady. You were salivating and could hardly wait to swallow.

He dropped his tip onto your tongue and it sat there heavily for a moment while he breathed. You dared to wrap your lips around it until he quickly backed up, taking it away, with a thick string of drool connecting you for a moment. You swallowed and wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist. His face was pink as he composed himself and stuffed it back in his pants.

You sat back on the floor, and he did a double take. He knelt down again and laid his hand on your mound. He scanned your body like he had hurt you all over again.

“Tommy, I’m fine,” you assured him. “I promise, I’m good.” He squinted at you. “That felt good,” you repeated, nodding, face burning. “Good, Tommy,” you whispered.

He nodded back hesitantly.

He left and didn’t lock the door. While he was gone, you put his shirt back on, didn’t button it, but wrapped it around you. He returned with a few more blankets. He picked you up and laid one down under you. He folded one under your head, and used the last one to cover you.

As he finished tucking you in, a drop of sweat fell from his hair onto your neck. He brushed it off with his thumb. And as he began to take his hand away, you reached for it. You brought his hand to your mouth and wrapped your lips around his thumb. Your tongue collected the salty drop of perspiration. And as you swallowed it, you sucked his thumb more into your mouth. As you gently sucked his massive thumb, your eyes closed, and when you opened them again, he was looking at you softly. You released his thumb, and he gently cradled your jaw in his hand. Then he slid his fingers down to your neck. He could have squeezed or snapped the life out of you with no effort at all, but you knew he wouldn't. All he did was admire you, softly stroking your delicate skin for a moment. Then, when he took his hand off your neck, he brushed his thumb down your chin.

He braced his hands on his hefty thighs and stood up. He adjusted his mask as he slowly left the shed. Once he was outside, you heard the padlock click into place, and then the squeak of his wheelbarrow fading into the distance.

Thank you for reading!

Your engagement helps a lot in motivating me and letting me know what you enjoyed so you might see more of it.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt smut #leatherface x reader #tommy hewitt #leatherface x you #slasher x you #slasher x reader #leatherface smut #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️#texas chainsaw massacre #leatherface

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santaasi · 4 months ago

Text

iris

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj maybank struggled all his life just to finally find home in your arms

warnings: fluff, slight angst at the start, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.9k

a/n: bringing myself comfort after the spoilers for the final of s4. my baby boy deserved a lot more.

ᯓ★ now playing…

goo goo dolls - iris

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

IT WAS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT — something so profound that JJ couldn't begin to describe it in words. Yet, he felt it in every cell of his body, in the deepest, most secret corners of his soul. It was as if he was staring into the vastness of the universe, into the boundless, all-consuming darkness that had terrified him since childhood. But now... now it glowed with a hundred, a million, a billion tiny stars — simple, yet magnificent clusters of light that transformed everything in an instant. You became his universe, his everything, and in that moment, everything changed.

JJ would be lying if he said he didn’t remember the exact moment — the exact second — he first met you. He remembered it vividly, like it was etched into his very bones, because that moment was his Big Bang. It was the spark that created the whole universe from nothing, with you as its center, pulling him into an orbit he never thought he’d find.

It was an ordinary day — at least, by JJ’s standards. A typical day filled with drinking, weed, hanging out with Pogues, and the all-too-familiar beatings from his father. After the last one, all he craved was solitude — just to be alone, to fade into the nothingness. To disappear. To stop feeling the weight of pain, to stop wondering what he had done wrong, to stop seeing the pity in his friends’ eyes whenever he showed up at the Chateau, bruised and broken.

For a fleeting moment, he wished he could stop being JJ Maybank — the lost, troubled boy everyone knew — and just be... himself. If only he knew who that was anymore.

It was night — a surprisingly cold summer night. The air carried a chill that seemed at odds with the warmth of the season, but even so, JJ found his haven between the soothing waves. The ocean cradled him gently, rocking him like a child in a mother’s arms, as if the water itself was trying to heal him. He lay on his stomach, his face dipping under the surface, seeking solace in the cool embrace of the sea, trying to drown out the swarm of thoughts buzzing endlessly in his mind.

How long had he been lying there? He couldn’t say. Time had blurred into the rhythm of the waves, and for a moment, he didn’t care. He didn’t expect the next moment to be so... startling.

You stopped just a few meters away, your breath coming in quick, heavy gasps. Your hair clung to your face, and the water began to bite at your skin with its coldness. And yet, in that brief flash of moonlight, JJ swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you — divine, even. The glow of the moon reflected off the water, casting a silver sheen over you, making everything seem surreal. Your slightly parted lips, your wide eyes, all caught in the stillness of the night, made something inside him twist. At that moment, he realized something, something terrifying: he was a goner.

"What the hell?"

The words slipped out in unison, an awkward moment of shared surprise. You raised an eyebrow, the frustration and relief mixing in your gaze before you splashed water in his face.

"Are you asking me what the hell?" you said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You were literally floating face down! I thought you were dead!"

JJ blinked, caught off guard, and shook his head, sending droplets flying in every direction. He didn’t respond immediately — his mind was still trying to catch up. He just stared at you, the way the moonlight danced on your skin, how the cold seemed to wash away everything else. There was something about you that both unsettled and comforted him, a mix he couldn’t quite place.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t, like, dead. I mean, not really." His voice was hoarse, raw with something he hadn’t let anyone hear in a long time. It barely masked the emptiness he’d been drowning in just moments ago. "Just needed a swim. Didn’t mean to scare you."

You crossed your arms under the water, rolling your eyes, but a soft smile played at the edges of your lips. "Just an ordinary midnight swim, huh?" you teased. But there was a knowing look in your eyes, like you could see through the mask. "I thought I was going to have to explain to the police tomorrow that some guy was found swimming in the ocean. ‘Local girl finds body in the water,’ you know? Not exactly the first week I imagined."

JJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Wait... you’re new here?"

You nodded, brushing your wet hair from your face, a small sigh escaping you as you did. "Yeah, I moved here a few days ago. Needed to start fresh, I guess." Your gaze shifted toward the shore, distant, but not quite lost. "Thought the ocean might help clear my head."

He could relate to that, more than he wanted to admit. He nodded without thinking, something about you felt... different. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice almost vulnerable. "Outer Banks isn’t paradise, but... it could be worse." The words slipped out before he could stop them, softer than he wanted, like a door that had been closed for too long suddenly creaking open. He hadn’t expected to share anything, but with you, it didn’t feel like sharing — it felt more like breathing.

The wind picked up, sending a chill over the water. You shivered slightly, pulling your arms tighter around yourself. JJ noticed, instinctively stepping closer, despite still standing in the water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. "Cold night for a swim."

The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on him — he, too, had come to the water to escape, to disappear. But with you standing there, he didn’t feel quite as invisible. And that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

You shrugged, looking toward the shore, but your eyes softened. "Yeah, just... a tough day, I guess. I thought the water might help me forget for a little while."

A bitter laugh slipped from JJ’s lips, and he didn’t try to hide it. "Well, looks like you found the right company for that," he said, his words more raw than he’d intended. But somehow, it felt natural to talk like this, to say things he hadn’t said to anyone in a long time. With you, it didn’t feel so forced.

You turned toward him, your expression softening. There was understanding in your eyes — like you’d been there too. "Tough day too, huh?" you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the stillness of the night.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath, the ocean around you a calm, sacred space. In that silence, something passed between you — unspoken, but real. As if for that moment, you both shared something intangible, something neither of you could put into words.

Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice teasing but gentle. "So... are you always this mysterious, or did I just pick the perfect time to meet you?"

A laugh escaped him, more genuine than he expected. "Maybe a little of both." He let the silence stretch on, comfortable now. For the first time in ages, he felt seen, and it wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be.

It was ridiculous, he thought — how could a complete stranger, someone he’d just met in the middle of the ocean, at some ungodly hour, feel like they were filling a space inside him he never knew was empty?

But when he looked at you, he felt something shift, something deep inside. Something real. Something alive.

"JJ," he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. The sound of his own name felt unfamiliar, like a piece of himself he hadn’t shared in too long.

You gave him a soft smile that reached your eyes, warm and knowing. "Nice to meet you, JJ."

AND THERE IT WAS — his universe had changed. The Big Bang.

After that night, JJ couldn’t think about anything but you. Your presence consumed him, yet in a way that felt like coming alive for the first time. He found himself drifting into your orbit, again and again, as if fate itself had been guiding him toward you all along. But while he believed in fate, you thought it was just chance.

It wasn’t long before JJ began to learn more about you, obsessing over every little detail. He learned that you loved spending your free time on the beach, reading books. Books that he had never bothered with before, but now he listened to them at double speed just to be able to talk to you about them. You had a habit of finding solace in the water, the way the waves seemed to ease the weight of the world from your shoulders. And he learned that you worked in a small diner on the Cut, a place that barely registered on anyone else’s radar but was now a part of his daily life.

It became his mission to visit those places. To catch your eye, exchange a few words. He even went to some Save the Turtles event with Kie — something he’d never have attended before — just to see you, just to find a reason to talk.

He didn't know why he was so drawn to you. Why waking up felt a little easier when he thought about you. Why his days felt less suffocating when he could see you by the ocean, or feel your warmth when you wrapped him up in your arms. And most importantly — why, in a world where he wanted to stay invisible, he wanted you to see him. Because no one, not even the closest people in his life, had ever truly understood him like you did.

It might have sounded corny, but JJ knew you were different. He didn’t want to undress you or get you into bed first, like he did with other girls. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know you. He wanted to be near you — not in a rushed, desperate way, but slowly, patiently, like the world had all the time for them. And that terrified him. Because everything in his life felt like it was bound to break, and he was scared of getting too close, only to watch it all fall apart.

But you made him feel like he was floating, like he was finally seeing the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. And even if it didn’t last forever, he would take it. It was worth it.

Because at some moment you became his safe place. His home.

JJ DIDN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT MOMENT HE FIRST CAME TO YOUR HOUSE, or why he couldn’t go back to the Chateau after the latest fight with his father. He just knew that he had found his way to you. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It was as if the universe had decided that, for once, he deserved peace. So, he climbed up to your balcony, hiding from the world, just to see you.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt the weight of everything lift from his chest. You didn't need to ask questions, you didn’t need explanations. You just held him — no judgment, no demands. Just there. Your hands gently cupped his face, and in that simple gesture, everything felt easier. It was like you knew exactly how much he needed to be held together. The comfort in your touch was so raw, so real, that it felt like he could stay there forever and nothing would ever hurt him again.

"Hey, JJ," you whispered softly as you cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. "You're okay. It's just another day. We'll get through it."

Your words were soft, but they carried a weight. The kind of weight that made him feel like, maybe, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t carrying all the burden on his own.

"Yeah, we will," he whispered looking in your eyes finding solace in it. "How'd your day go?" he asked quietly, almost as an afterthought, as you dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, the usual. Serving coffee, cleaning tables... Same old stuff. But then again, it’s a good distraction.”

And JJ realized, right then, that this wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the mess of his life. It was about the way you understood him without needing to understand everything. You were healing him, piece by piece, without even knowing it.

You were there, not because you had to be, but because you wanted to be. And when you laid him down in your bed, curling up beside him, you whispered about your day at work, your own small struggles. You shared your world with him, and somehow, it made his feel a little less heavy.

IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE JJ OPENED UP TO YOU, really opened up in a way he had never done before. It was a slow burn at first. He kept his distance, guarding you from the mess that was his life. But the longer he stayed, the more he realized that you were the one who saw him. All of him — the messed-up, broken parts that he tried so hard to hide from everyone else. And when he realized you weren’t scared of that, he finally let go.

"I used to think that if I told you about my life, you'd leave," he admitted one night, his voice thick with raw emotion. "But... you didn’t. You stayed."

You looked at him, your expression tender, your hands tracing the edge of his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere, JJ. Not unless you want me to."

And that was the moment he knew — he had found someone who understood him in a way no one ever had. No one ever would.

One night, after sharing stories and secrets until the stars outside had started to fade, you both found yourselves standing close, the air thick with unspoken words. There was a nervousness between you, but also a tenderness that neither of you had known before. JJ leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was soft, hesitant, and filled with the kind of understanding that only comes when two people truly see each other. His lips were warm against yours, the moment suspended in time. And as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered softly, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You didn’t need to say anything in return. The truth was already in your eyes, in the way you pulled him closer, your hands tracing the lines of his back like you were memorizing him. He didn’t need forever. He didn’t need promises. He just needed this. You. Now. And that was enough.

THE EVENING WAS SETTLING INTO ITS QUIET RYTHM AT THE CHATEAU. The Pogues were scattered around, some laughing, some lost in their own thoughts, and some just lounging by the bonfire. The air smelled faintly of saltwater and smoke, the crackling warmth from the fire barely reaching the edge of the pier. The world felt suspended in a beautiful hush, as though the universe itself had exhaled, and for the briefest of moments, everything stood still.

But despite the presence of his friends, despite the fire, the laughter, and the constant noise that filled every corner of the Chateau, JJ was focused only on you. Your presence was like gravity, pulling him closer to something real, something tangible. You were his escape, his universe — shaped not by chaos and pain, but by a quiet peace he had never known until you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked softly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your voice was gentle, threading through the sea breeze that fluttered your hair, causing it to stray in wisps across your face. You frowned slightly as the breeze brushed against your skin, the hair teasing at your cheek in an almost playful, yet annoying way. He loved how you could get lost in these little moments, how even the simplest things seemed to pull you in.

JJ, ever the thinker, gazed out at the vast ocean, where the horizon was a delicate line between the fading light of the day and the endless mystery of the night. There was something about the sea — so unpredictable, so endless — that made him feel both small and infinite. It was like he could feel the weight of the universe pressing on his chest, but at the same time, it gave him a sense of freedom, of release.

He shook his head, not really having the words to explain the depth of his thoughts, of how you had become his entire universe in such a short time. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise, like a quiet vow he was ready to keep forever.

"I love you," he said simply, the words falling so easily from his lips it startled him. It was like his heart had always known the truth, but now, with you, it could finally speak it. He turned to face you, his hands gently cupping your face, and pushed a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hair had tangled slightly in the breeze, and his fingers brushed against the soft strands as if trying to keep you grounded in this moment.

You smiled up at him, your eyes warm with affection, and for a brief second, JJ wondered if he had been imagining all of this — the way your touch made him feel alive, how your laugh filled him with a joy that felt as though he was living in a dream. He had never been one to express his feelings out loud, never been able to put his heart on the line like that. But with you, everything felt different. Everything felt right.

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but JJ felt the weight of them — felt how real they were, how they shifted the space between you, making it smaller, warmer, more intimate. It was like the universe had shifted in that moment, like the stars aligned just for the two of you.

But you, ever the one to keep things light, laughed softly, breaking the moment in the most perfect way. Your laugh rang out like music, a melody he couldn’t get enough of. "But everyone knows that, stupid! It’s no secret that you’re head over heels in love with me," you teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as if trying to bring him back down from whatever cosmic place his mind had drifted to.

JJ chuckled, the sound deep and sincere. There was no pretense, no walls. Just the two of you, surrounded by the night and the ocean, and for the first time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. His smile was soft but real, and he kissed you once, gently, on the tip of your nose, then moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, your forehead, each kiss like a reassurance that this moment, this feeling, was real.

"You don't get it, do you?" JJ murmured, his voice a little more serious than the moment required. He let the silence stretch between you before continuing. "It’s not just... about love, doll. It’s about everything. It’s the way you make me see the world in a way I never thought I would. The way you make me feel like... like I’m enough." His voice softened with a vulnerability he hadn’t known he could express. "Before you, everything was just a blur. I didn’t even know how to be, to feel. But with you? It’s different. You make me real, love."

You looked at him, your gaze tender, understanding. Your eyes softened, and without a word, you reached out and pulled him in for a tight hug. JJ rested his head against your shoulder, inhaling the soft scent of your skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. It was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, JJ felt truly alive.

He had spent so many years running from everything that hurt him, pushing away anything that could cause him pain. But in that moment, wrapped in your embrace, the fear was gone. There was nothing left but the two of you, standing on the edge of the world, with the ocean stretching out before you like an endless promise.

"I never thought I’d say it," he whispered, his words coming out in a quiet rush. "But you’re my Big Bang. The thing that changed everything for me. Before you, it felt like I was drifting through the void, like there was nothing in this world worth holding on to. But now..." He pulled away slightly, looking at you with a newfound intensity. "Now, you’re my everything. You gave me a reason to stay."

Your fingers lightly brushed against his cheek, the touch so gentle it felt like a feather. You looked at him, eyes searching his face, and you smiled softly. "You don't have to be alone anymore, JJ. You’ve never been alone." Your voice was quiet, but the sincerity behind it struck him like a bolt of lightning. "We're in this together."

A small laugh escaped him, a sound that felt almost foreign but so freeing. The way you made him feel — like he was seen, understood, held — it was beyond anything he could have imagined. You were the gravity in his universe, pulling him in, holding him steady. And no matter how far out he drifted, he always knew he'd find his way back to you.

"You make me feel like the world is full of stars," he murmured, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Like everything that’s ever happened to me — good or bad — led me to you. Like I was just waiting for you to come and show me what it’s like to be."

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. "Well, don't get too carried away, Maybank. I’m not that amazing."

JJ smiled, but there was something raw in his expression, something that hinted at all the things he could never quite put into words. "You are," he said softly. "You are my everything. And for once, I’m not afraid to let myself feel it."

The world stretched out before you, both of you standing at the precipice of something so beautiful, so uncertain, yet so undeniable. The stars above shimmered like tiny promises, like constellations forming their own quiet narrative about two souls finding each other in the vast, infinite expanse of the universe. And in that moment, the ocean, the stars, the wind, and the night itself seemed to pause, holding its breath.

"I love you. So much," JJ whispered again, his voice filled with the certainty that had settled deep within him. It was simple, but it was everything. The words echoed, not just through the air, but through his heart, through his bones, reverberating in a way he never thought was possible. And as the night embraced them both, they realized that they had found their place in the world. Together.

And for the first time, JJ Maybank wasn’t afraid to be seen. Because you saw him. And that was enough

thankx for reading <3

so, that’s it. jj maybank deserved the whole world but only got this shitty ending. am i gonna watch obx4 now? probably not. am i gonna write for jj like there’s no s4? definitely yes! i think we’ll all agree that obx ended on s3 and after that nothing happened.

but every time i see the posts about jj i feel so sad… like it literally hurts on some level because he deserved his happy ending more than anyone. even if rudy wanted to leave the show they could have written a good ending for him. not one more fucked up father, but one that would take him to see the world or shit like this. i just wanted him to be happy.

i chose iris because this is so jj coded for me. i haven’t listened to this song in ages and when it popped up in my shuffle yesterday – i just wanted it to be about jj. with all his struggles, all his pain, but also with a hope for something good. so, i rly hope that you liked this work.

and again thank u for reading. thank u for liking, reblogging and commenting - it’s rly means a lot to me. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx x you #obx fic

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meleeyz · 3 months ago

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┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘!𝗘𝗞𝗞𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗗𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ These are headcanons of the other Ekko, before the canon Ekko from the show "takes" his place… I hope you understand...

୨୧ I'm still writing for the fic, but the last chapters is taking longer than I thought, I hope you understand, in the meantime I have some things in drafts that I will publish so you don't run out of content.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

another universe!ekko who was really nervous about proposing to you knowing how big of a step that is...

Ekko had always been a confident guy. He was innovator, someone who could fix almost anything. But when it came to you, he found himself feeling like a bumbling preteenager all over again. He wanted everything to be perfect—down to the handmade ring he was crafting for the proposal. Using scraps of precious metals and stones he collected over the years, he poured hours of focus into shaping it into something that represented your story together. Benzo would catch him hunched over his workstation at odd hours, muttering about the alignment or polish. "You know, kid, it’s not like she’s gonna turn you down if it’s a millimeter off," Benzo teased, ruffling Ekko’s hair. Ekko would just grin sheepishly but double his efforts anyway.

another universe!ekko who practiced his proposal speech a dozen times, only to get caught mid-rehearsal...

He was standing in the middle of The Last Drop, the roof their unofficial safe haven for years. “So, um, I’ve been thinking…” he started, pacing back and forth. “No, no, that sounds dumb. Okay—‘you’re the light of my life, and I can’t imagine—’ ugh, that’s so cheesy.” Behind him, Powder crept up the stairs, barely containing her giggles. “Keep going,” she whispered, trying not to laugh. Ekko whipped around, his face flaming red. “How long have you been there?!” “Long enough to know you’re terrible at this,” she teased, doubling over with laughter. “You’re lucky she already loves you.”

another universe!ekko who had no idea you were planning your own big announcement...

While Ekko was caught up in his grand proposal plans, you were busy with plans of your own. The test results sat folded in your pocket for days, and your hands hovered over them more times than you could count. You were going to be a mother. It was Powder who figured it out first, being too observant for her own good. “You’ve been glowing,” she said one afternoon while helping you sort supplies at the community center. “Also, you cried over Mylo spilling coffee, so I kinda put two and two together.” You blinked at her, stunned. “Powder, you cannot tell anyone yet!” She held up her hands. “Cross my heart! But seriously, I’m gonna be the best godmother ever!” You couldn’t help but laugh, though your nerves stayed. You wondered how Ekko would react, if he’d be overwhelmed or excited—or both.

another universe!ekko who proposed on the roof of the last drop, the place where your story began...

Ekko had chosen the roof where he had first kissed you as the spot to ask you to be his forever. He had strung up soft, glowing lights and set up a little table with flowers and your favorite dessert. When you stepped onto the roof and saw him standing there, his hands fidgeting nervously as he smiled at you, your heart swelled with affection. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "So, uh… I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time." You stepped closer, your smile encouraging him to continue. "Being with you has been the greatest adventure of my life," he said, his voice gaining confidence. "And I can’t imagine spending another day without knowing that you’ll always be by my side. So..." He dropped to one knee and pulled out the handmade ring, holding it up with a hopeful look. "Will you marry me?" Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, unable to find your voice at first. "Yes, Ekko. Of course, I’ll marry you." The joy on his face was priceless as he slipped the ring onto your finger, pulling you into a tight embrace.

another universe!ekko who fainted when you told him you were pregnant moments later...

But before he could say another word, you decided it was time to share your own surprise. “I have something to tell you too,” you said, your hand trembling as you guided his to your stomach. “You’re going to be a dad.” His grin froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Wait, what—?” And then he hit the floor. Powder’s shriek of laughter carried from the rooftop stairs. "I knew he’d do that!"

another universe!ekko who woke up to find you fanning him, looking both amused and concerned...

"You okay?" you asked, trying not to laugh. He blinked up at you, groaning. "Wait… did you just say…?" "Yes, Ekko," you said softly. "You’re going to be a dad." For a moment, he was silent, then a wide grin broke across his face. "I’m gonna be a dad," he repeated, awe in his voice.

another universe!everyone who was overjoyed by the double news…

Vander insisted on hosting an engagement party at The Last Drop, which quickly turned into a celebration for the baby too. Silco was the first to congratulate you both, "You’ll be a wonderful mother," he said quietly. Claggor and Mylo, meanwhile, started a heated argument over who would be the better uncle. "I’m obviously the fun uncle," Mylo declared, crossing his arms. Claggor rolled his eyes. "The kid needs someone responsible. That’s me." Powder, sitting nearby, added fuel to the fire. "Don’t worry, guys. The baby’s gonna love me more anyway. I’m the godmother!" Benzo couldn’t resist teasing Ekko. "Didn’t want to wait, huh?" he joked, clapping him on the back. Ekko just laughed, unashamed. "When you know, you know."

another universe!ekko who became the most attentive fiancé and father-to-be anyone had ever seen…

Ekko went into full-on protective mode. He insisted on carrying anything remotely heavy for you, making sure you got enough rest, and preparing meals that he claimed were "good for the baby." "Ekko, it’s just a broom," you said one afternoon, trying to sweep the living room. "Doesn’t matter," he replied, gently taking it from your hands. "You’re not lifting a finger while I’m around."

another universe!ekko who is absolutely excited about his baby

Ekko transformed into the ultimate caretaker. He made sure you were comfortable at all times, fussing over pillows, blankets, and cravings. He’d often disappear for errands and come back with baby clothes, stuffed animals, or tiny shoes. "You know it’s too early to shop, right?" you teased one evening. "Yeah, but look at these little boots!" he said, holding them up proudly.

another universe!ekko who spent hours talking to your belly...

He would lean close, resting his head against you as he spoke softly. “Hey, little one. It’s your dad. I just wanted to say I love you already—whether you’re a boy or a girl, doesn’t matter.” Your laughter filled the room. “You’re gonna spoil them before they’re even born.” “Damn right,” he said, grinning.

another universe!silco who became unexpectedly protective of you during your pregnancy…

"Must I remind you," Silco said one day, his piercing gaze locking onto yours, "that you’re carrying a very important member of this family?" "I was just reaching for a book," you replied, amused. "It starts with books, and ends with unnecessary strain."

another universe!powder who was the maid of honor and made sure your dress was perfect...

Powder was practically vibrating with excitement as she helped you into your gown. “You look like a queen,” she declared, fluffing the skirt. “No, a goddess. Ekko’s gonna cry when he sees you.” “Let’s hope he doesn’t faint again,” you teased, earning a snort of laughter.

another universe!benzo who secretly cried at ekko’s wedding...

As you walked down the aisle, arm in arm with Vander, Benzo dabbed at his eyes. When Ekko teased him later, he grumbled, “Shut it, kid. It’s allergies.”

another universe!ekko whose wedding was the event of the year...

The Last Drop was transformed into a breathtaking venue, with twinkling lights and decorations. Vander had insisted on non-alcoholic cocktails, much to the delight of you and the other guests. Ekko couldn’t take his eyes off you as you exchanged vows, his voice steady despite the overwhelming emotions. “You’re my everything,” he said, slipping the ring onto your finger. "I promise to love you, protect you, and be the best partner and dad I can be—for you and for our family."

another universe!ekko who ended the night on the roof where it all began...

After the reception, Ekko led you back to the roof where it all began. The city lights shimmered below, the quiet hum of Zaun wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Ekko knelt in front of you, resting his head gently against your rounded belly. "I’ll be the best dad," he murmured, his hands cradling your bump. "You already are," you assured him, running your fingers through his hair. He looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with love. "And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it."

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

#ekko fluff #arcane season two #arcane x reader #ekko x reader #dad!ekko #ekko imagines #arcane ekko x reader

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spider-stark · 11 months ago

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INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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moonwoodhollow · 9 months ago

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HOHENZOLLERN ALLEE 72-76

a German-inspired 1950s apartment build + a furnished flat

A build download that was in the works for almost a month and made me realise how much I love building local architecture even though it's not the easiest within the constraints of TS4.

It's meant to represent a realistic German apartment build, that is a bit run down and yet still feels homey and nostalgic to those of us growing up near or in these buildings. There's one furnished flat that is ideal for 2-3 sims and furnished in a retro 60s-90s look, that I hope you'll enjoy! This is also a BIG 1K followers gift, with which I want to show my deepest appreciation to all my followers, thank you so much!!

More info, screenshots + DL link behind the cut!

First a little history/backstory to this build:

This build is something you'd see very often in Middle to Northern Europe, less so in the UK, because brick builds there look similar but also different and I based my build off of Northern German brick builds.

The red brick used for these builds dominates the townscapes in quite a few cities where I live and has been used for a few centuries (see Brick Gothic). This build that I based on a real building, however, is more modern and was probably built after WW2, as the design choices, like using tiles on the facades of brick builds is something distinctively 1950s. I know there are older examples, but these buildings usually have more design and decor elements on the facades. These red brick builds were built en masse starting with the 1920s and were usually meant for low-income households. The same goes for the 1950s brick builds, which were built on top of ruins of older buildings destroyed in the war and oftentimes were cheaply constructed and usually don't receive the same appreciation that older pre-war brick builds get, so quite a few are already being demolished for more modern builds.

So what do you get with this build?

Hohenzollernallee 72-76 is a 40x30 lot that I placed in Evergreen Harbor on the Sprucewood Square lot. I created 2 versions of the building, one as a normal residential lot and another as a residential rental. Just choose whatever you want! There are 6 different flats, that have been renovated at different times, which is apparent from the condition of their kitchen and bathroom.. Each flat has its own basement room and the garden is shared between all tenants and there's a shared laundry room in the basement as well.

You'll also have a restaurant shell, the Burger Lab that is not functional currently, but you could make it so if you want.

The furnished flat is playtested and ideal for 2-4 sims max and is heavily 'lived in', meaning very cluttered. I personally see an older woman living there, whose husband already died and her daughter left as soon she turned 18, but the interior was never changed or renovated. I don't know, you could probably come up with a lot of story ideas!

CC is mostly included. You'll find an Excel file with the specific file names and the dl link for all CC that is not included. The build will probably still look okay-ish without the excluded CC but I strongly recommend downloading it, if you do not already have it.

Thank you, especially to these lovely creators: @budgie2budgie, @sforzinda, @surely-sims, @pluto-sims, @syboubou.

@myshunosun, @charlypancakes, @peacemaker-ic, @kkbsmm, @leaf-motif

@awingedllama, @kirsicca, @baufive, @lumenniveus, @kiwisim4 and many more!! it's because of you that this build looks the way it does <3

Uses items from the following packs: For Rent, Growing Together, High School Years, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats and Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dreamhome Decorator, Strangerville, Vampires, Dine Out, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Backyard Stuff, (Kits): Party Essentials, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Bathroom Clutter, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe, Little Campers, Décor to the Max, Industriel Loft & Courtyard Oasis

Download: Google Drive | also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you'll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)

-> Info: I tried to not include merged files, but there are about 3-5 that I missed, sorry :(

TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 build dl #showusyourbuilds #show us your builds #sims 4 lot download #sims 4 lot dl #sims 4 build #sims 4 interior #*mine #*mydownload #sims community #sims 4 screenshots

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we-are-maladaptive · 9 months ago

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little dreamer ♡

contents: fluffy stuff, a little bit a children mentioned characters: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima (separate) authors note: hello (╥﹏╥) very sorry for being inactive recently!! my mother's ex boyfriend is in jail for attempted homocide and ive been helping her get it together since then ( not even kidding ) so therefore here is a hello present from me as an apology ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Husband Katsuki, who sits with you on the porch swing in the late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the yard. The scent of jasmine fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant laughter from children playing nearby. He wraps a cozy blanket around your shoulders, pulling you close as the evening chill begins to set in. You sip on hot cocoa, marshmallows melting into sweet swirls, and talk about the little moments that made your day special. His arm around you feels like the safest place in the world, and as the first stars begin to appear in the twilight sky, he softly hums a tune that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the universe.

Husband Izuku, who wakes you gently on lazy Sunday mornings with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of birds singing outside your window. He brings you breakfast in bed, a tray laden with your favorite pastries, fruits, and a delicate vase holding a single rose. As you share bites of buttery croissant and sip on coffee, you talk about dreams you had the night before and make plans for the day ahead. His fingers trace patterns on your arm as he listens, his eyes full of a love that makes you feel cherished and safe. Later, you both linger in bed, wrapped in the warmth of the morning sun and each other’s embrace, content to let the world outside fade away.

Husband Shouto, who takes you on evening walks along the beach, where the sky blazes with the colors of the setting sun, painting the waves with hues of orange and pink. As you stroll hand in hand, you collect smooth pebbles and seashells, giggling like children whenever you find a particularly beautiful one. You sit together on the sand, watching as the stars begin to twinkle into existence, and he wraps a blanket around your shoulders to keep you warm. His voice is soft and tender as he whispers stories of your future, of a house by the sea and children who run along the shore, their laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the promise of a lifetime of such evenings together.

Husband Denki, who plans a cozy movie night at home, the living room transformed into a haven of comfort with soft pillows and warm blankets scattered everywhere. He dims the lights and lights a few scented candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow. You snuggle together on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and exchanging quiet laughter over inside jokes. As the movie plays, he holds you close, his fingers gently stroking your hair. The outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. When the credits roll, you find yourselves talking late into the night, about anything and everything, his voice a soothing melody that lulls you into a peaceful sleep, your head resting on his shoulder.

Husband Eijirou, who dances with you in the living room, the only light coming from the flickering flames in the fireplace, casting a golden glow over everything. The soft strains of a love song fill the room, and he holds you close, your feet moving in a slow, gentle rhythm. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you feel the warmth of his touch seep through your clothes. As the song ends, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache with love. He presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring words of devotion, and you know in that moment that this is where you belong—dancing in his arms, forever and always.

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flowerandblood · 6 months ago

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The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

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rheitais · 2 months ago

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DP X DC One shooting star later. Pt 2.

This might be my new brain rot. Thanks to @scho17 for the after math I was giggling reading about the joker being stunned, Dick growing gray and B having a mild conundrum.

I feel like Joker was getting ready to stream this to gotham but was stunned before he could start. The reason the bats are there is because they were already tracking the Nightingales for a completely different reason. For example, Maddie, Jazz and Ellie are having a girl's night with Selina, Harley and Ivy. (See 1.5 for interactions) Dante and Danny somehow end up in the middle of one or another rouges plan one way or another, always together. Jazz literally wants to be a therapist in Gotham. Jack and Maddie are terribly good at their engineering jobs.

Bruce firmly believes Jack is a meta or non-human of some kind and asks Clark to come to a gala to prove a point. After Clark interacts with Jack and sees Bruce cause for concern but after x-raying the man, Clark tells Bruce he looks completely human inside. Bruce tasks Damian to befriend Ellie since they were both in the same grade and some of the same classes. Little did Bruce know that would contribute to the greatest youngest sibling alliance.

Of course not being from this universe, Tim and Babs figure that the Nightingales essentially never existed and even the city they are from doesn't exist. Well not in the state they claim to be from. So Tim prioritizes getting close with the twins since they are close in age to get some answers or at least get them to slip up.

Though anytime they as bats approach them, the Nightingales scatter. Avoid contact and avoid talking to them completely. If they catch Ellie alone in a park or on the sidewalk she will start running, running until she is either back in safe haven called home or near one of her older siblings. If they catch the twins, the older one will either yank the other behind him before telling him to "book it" and cover his twin escape or the younger one will throw a weird stick and hit the bat square on the head before retrieving it and running off. If they catch up to Jazz, she would walk up with a smile before pulling out a gun and vaguely stating "Yeah you have the suit but I can see your face and at the bare minimum I know I don't need to worry about you being human or cryptic, I've had a very long midterm from hell so if you would excuse me I have better things to be doing" before walking away. As for the parents, Jack rarely goes out enough to be caught. As for Maddie, gave both Nightwing and Red Robin good kicks to the ribs.

[ Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Masterpost ]

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #dan phantom #batfam #bruce wayne #damian wayne #tim drake #barbara gordon

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someweirdoreblogger · 4 months ago

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Burning Spice Cookie is passion ignited, albeit not in the moral side of the conscious spectrum. He is quite affectionate, actually, more than you may give him credit for.

Do not mistake it as humane, as a blind genosity. It comes not from a moral source of obligation or even gerenal priority.

Once the deranged loin-a Beast amongst monsters-the corrupted Lord himself is invested, your scent guiding freely through the droves, to shake him off your trail will prove diffcult. Burning Spice is not so kind to let prey go by unscathed, untouched by his mighty axe; His shadow stalks the trees, quaking, a deafening roar booms in the distance.

The Hunt begins.

You dare infringe upon his heart, you invade his senses, scrabble his thoughts; you really think you can simply crawl back home unscathed?

What home have you to turn too? Who would even think to take you back with the mark of a Beast weighing down your back?

Luckily, this debt can be paid. Paid solely by your own parry and peril. Burning Spice will remember your tracks better than the back of his own hand.

Once he comes, just an arrogant march away, you will know. The world itself will alert, not you, but itself to his sudden existence.

The birds will cease their music, the ground will shake and stumble; struggling to keep its foundation stable and lively. The lakes, far and wide, the sky, the kisses of clouds and weak leaves rip itself apart, dancing in the reflection below. It ripens in sheer unbalanced tension, seemingly frightened; the water will ripple like static, wavering under a wave of immense, exotic shock, and pressure.

The wind is ecstatic, nature's personal enthusiasm; it moans, groans, and sighs heavy in your ear. Desperate to be heard.

You will taste him in the air, a suffocating sulfur and ghastly spice, it threatens to choke weaker beings. Feel him fester like sparks on your crust, hair standing up stiff, dough throbbing. Tingling and blazing hot, a Beast's presence is a neigh-suffocating weight. You will never know peace until he deems you worthy of such.

Burning Spice roams triumphant, forever hungry. An immovable glare in the sky, a blinding scorch to the people's merger eyes, looking down civilization in cold indifference; The same way a god regurds his subjects. Just ants, peasy insects, building their anthills, simply hoping to piece together a safe haven for themselves in a universe far too large to tackle alone.

The Vitue of Change, The Lord of Destruction, will stand tall alone. Boundless from any chain as mortals rise, spoil and fall. A proud witness to the beginning, present, and the end, the natural tides of history sow in the seeds of devastation he leaves behind. He is a slave to his base desires, as all Cookies are; a chaotic harbinger of endless malice and merciless strife.

But he is still yet a man. A heartless monster in a man's skin. A Cookie baked in the same oven as his fellow kin, a great Beast, seeking to completely deprive himself of sheer boredom and simplicity.

All immortals carry the burden, the smooth erosion of time is not lost even to Beasts, as the ocean inevitably swipes a wet hand over the sand. He lives long and simply withstands, and he stares at the lesser mass in a bubbling, volcanic envy, hanging loose like a knot on his shoulders; the deeper things, the pleasant things. The majority of it stems from an infectious curiosity, aching hunger boiling in the depths of a Beast.

An unstoppable force suspended in a space completely at its mercy.

Burning Spice, gerenally, is an incredibly expressive person; entertainment, living life to the fullest drives his very soul off the edge of madness and carnage. His being is a godly sight to behold, and he wears this infernal arrogance in fine silks and peakish sneers. The weak tremble beneath the heel of their superiors, the Beast of Destruction is bloody pride embodied.

And this God, this Beast will strave for your worship; shall rip it from the dying, rotting hands of the torn world.

Carnal, burnt crimson in abhorrent brutality, Burning Spice is honestly an upfront sort. He won’t shy away from confrontation, solemn. He knows what he needs, what he wants, so he will steal it if one ever dares refuse it from him.

What is inevitable is virtue, Burning Spice knows this in his very jam. He does hold some semblance of responsibility and honor, albeit it won’t make him any less immorally stubborn or hot-headed. He approaches a desired interest alike how a lion stalks his prey; the same way he approaches a potential hunt, with fierce, burning determination and endless persistence.

#mypost #burning spice cookie #burning spice #beast of destruction #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #burning spice cookie x reader #burning spice x reader #crk x reader

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gloomwitchwrites · 8 months ago

Note

Their child is getting bullied at school.

Ugh, anon. Are you trying to break my heart? Are you trying to make me ache? I think you are. I really think so especially with a prompt like this.

Firstly, I love some Task Force 141 Dad prompts, headcanons, etc. It's so indulgent on my end. I adore picturing them as fathers. Personally, I see them all as girl dads but that's just me. I didn't do that here, but I still headcanon it. Enjoy some protective 141 daddies.

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of bullying

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny breathes deep. He needs to calm down.

Johnny goes to one knee, staring into his son’s eyes. “What happened?”

The story drives his irritation higher. It’s frustrating. And nothing is being done about it.

Johnny should be an adult about this. He should let the school handle it. But he also knows that bullies are slick. They don’t want to be caught.

And sometimes all they need is a physical reminder.

“If it happens again, you form a fist. Like this.” His son nods. “Hit them here. Got it?” Johnny points to a spot on his face.

“Got it.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle softly knocks on his daughter’s bedroom door.

She glances up.

“Can I come in?” She nods and Kyle enters, sitting on the bed of her bed. “Your mum told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

“She pushed first.”

“I believe you,” Kyle says softly. “I taught you stand up for yourself.”

“I did.”

“I know you did, baby.” He gently cups her cheek and leans in, placing a kiss on her forehead. “But come to me first. Allow me to help. Okay?”

She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Love you, baby girl.”

John Price

“Enjoy your lunch?”

John’s daughter nods. “Yep.”

“Did you like the blueberry muffin your mother packed you?”

“Yes.”

“And your sandwich?”

“Perfect amount of jelly.”

John frowns. “I know you’re lying, dove. Your mum packed a peanut butter brownie and a turkey sandwich.”

His daughter goes quiet.

“You’re not eating your lunch. Why?”

She bites her lip and John drops to her level.

“Talk to me.”

The words spill out of her, and John goes cold. Someone is taking her lunch, leaving her with absolutely nothing.

John nods, pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll take care of it, dove.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has to bite his tongue and clench his fist. His irritation is rising. His wife places her hand on his thigh, squeezing it with reassurance.

“It’ll be fine, Simon,” she murmurs.

“Someone hurt my little girl. Our daughter is being punished. I want some fucking answers.”

“I know. But if you go in guns blazing, it won’t help. She’s already upset.”

Simon sighs heavily. His wife is right. He needs to calm down. Being combative won’t help anything.

“And you won’t confront the parents?”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, growling. “If it stops.”

“Simon.”

“Promise,” he says.

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mononijikayu · 6 months ago

Text

chasing heaven — geto suguru.

“You shouldn’t love me.” he finally said, his voice low, almost pained. “It’s unequal. I would taint your name, your reputation. You’re much younger than me, and you deserve someone who can offer you the future you deserve. I can’t… I’m not looking to marry, not now. I have my duties, my career—” “I don’t care about any of that.” you interrupted, your voice firmer now, driven by the strength of your feelings. “I don’t care about reputation or duty. I only care about you, about what we could have together. I want you to be with me, Suguru. Not as my brother’s general, but as the man I love.”

GENRE: alternate universe - sengoku jidai au!;

WARNING/S: angst, fluff, romance, love, age-gap (reader is in her early 20s, suguru is early 30s), hurt/comfort, nsfw, mild smut, falling in love, friendship, comfort, hurt, pregnancy, sexual intercourse, protectiveness, subsequent marriage, happy ending, depictions of misogyny, depiction of pregnancy, mention of parting, mention of war, mention of misogny, mention of children, mention of seppaku, satoru is an overprotective, loving brother, general-warrior! suguru!, lady gojo! reader;

WORD COUNT: 9k words

NOTE: some of this is a bit inspired by abelard and heloise, who are like one of the most interesting love depictions and intellectuals in history. and bit of the ending came from the outlaw king??? the meeting at the beach??? yeah, we got that in the temple. i wanted to keep this short, but it ended up getting longer and longer and i feel like you're sick of reading long fics. i'll try to do better next time~ anyway, i still hope you enjoy this. i love you!!! <3

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•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME. But somehow, it has. In the quiet stillness of the temple, you had grown accustomed to the gentle rhythms of monastic life. The mornings began with the melodic chime of bells, the scent of incense filling the air as you joined the nuns in their prayers. Your world was small, contained within the temple walls, but it was peaceful—a safe haven amidst the chaos of a warring Japan.

But that peace you knew of, in this aloof mountain temple, was shattered the day your brother came.

You had always known of him, the brother who was more myth than man, a legend whispered among the nuns, among servants, among town’s folk who visited the temple. Gojo Satoru, the warrior fighting to bring the country out of disaster, was a name that carried weight even within these sacred walls.

He was the eldest, the one your mother had borne long before the war consumed the land. But you had never met him, had only the faintest memories of a mother who held you close before the temple became your home.

When the day arrived, you were summoned to the temple gate. The nuns had prepared you, dressing you in the finest robes the temple could offer, your hair carefully arranged as befitting the sister of a warrior. They had spoken in hushed tones, reminding you of your duty, of the homage you owed to the man who was your blood, your kin. But you felt a tremor of unease, an uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of your calm.

And then he appeared.

Tall, imposing, with a presence that seemed to command the very air around him, your brother was unlike anyone you had ever seen. His hair, stark white like the snow that capped the mountains, caught the light of the setting sun.

But it was his eyes that struck you most—eyes as clear and bright as the sky itself, filled with a depth that seemed to see through you, to the very core of your being. Just like your own. You had never found anyone that looked like you before. Somehow, you were not alone anymore.

For a moment, you stood frozen, uncertain how to greet him, this man who was both a stranger and your closest kin. But then he smiled, a smile that was warm and reassuring, and something in you eased.

"You’ve grown, little sister." Satoru said, his voice gentle, as though he feared to startle you. "I was worried I wouldn't recognize you. But I suppose….I suppose it would be normal, wouldn’t it? You and I have been apart long before you were born, little one.”

You found your voice, though it came out softer than you intended. "Brother…"

The word felt foreign on your tongue, a title you had never before spoken, but it also felt right, like a missing piece sliding into place. Satoru stepped closer, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. His touch was firm, but not unkind.

"You will come and live with me now, hm?" he told you, his tone leaving no room for argument, but there was no harshness in it. Only certainty. “You will not be apart from me again.”

You nodded, the weight of your new reality settling over you. The life you had known, the only life you remembered, was ending. But this was your brother—your family—and though you did not know him, you knew that you owed him your loyalty, your respect.

"Yes, brother." you replied, lowering your gaze in deference.

Satoru squeezed your shoulder, his smile widening just a fraction. "Good. There’s much for us to do, but we’ll manage together, little sister.”

He turned, signaling to the men who had accompanied him, and they began to prepare for the journey. You looked back at the temple, at the nuns who had raised you, their faces serene yet tinged with sadness. They had known this day would come, had prepared you for it, but it was still a farewell, a parting of ways.

As you followed your brother, leaving the temple behind, you felt the weight of the future pressing upon you. You were no longer just the orphaned daughter raised by nuns. You were the sister of Gojo Satoru, a daughter of the Gojo clan and that meant something in this world torn apart by war.

And as you walked beside him, his presence a shield against the unknown, you felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps, in time, you would come to know this brother who had claimed you from the shadows of the temple.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

IT WAS A WHOLE NEW WORLD FOR YOU. But perhaps it was because you had not grown into the life that your brother had been consumed by for years. Yet you were not going to be left behind, that was a promise you made to yourself. You were going to catch up and serve your brother, as destiny had intended for you.

It hadn’t taken long for you to prove your worth in the world your brother had thrust you into. From the moment you had joined Satoru's side, your intelligence shone like a beacon, drawing the attention of those who served him.

You were quick to grasp the intricacies of strategy, the delicate balance of politics, and the subtle art of diplomacy. Satoru, ever perceptive, saw in you the sharp mind that had been honed within the quiet confines of the temple, and he wasted no time in bringing you into his fold.

He did so without hesitation, without shame, despite the murmurs of discontent that rippled through his ranks. You were a woman in a man’s world, but Gojo Satoru was unbothered by such conventions. What mattered was that you were like him, a Gojo. And as such, you had the same power too. Perhaps it was why he trusted you more than anyone, and he made that trust clear by placing you at his side, seeking your counsel in matters great and small.

And so you sat with him, advising him openly in front of his men, your voice carrying the weight of his trust. You spoke with confidence, your mind as sharp as any blade, and Satoru listened, often nodding in agreement before issuing commands that bore your influence. It was a sight that unsettled some of his warriors—men hardened by battle, who found it difficult to reconcile the image of their fierce leader relying on the wisdom of a woman.

But Satoru was adamant. “She is my sister, and I trust her above all.” he would say, and that was that. His word was law, and most of the men knew better than to question him. “Do not make light of my sister. A Gojo is a Gojo, regardless of sex. Do not dishonor me with your pitiful pride.”

However, the day came when your brother had to leave, called away by urgent matters elsewhere in the battlefield. He left you to lead his council in his absence, placing upon your shoulders a great responsibility. “They will listen to you, sister.” he assured you before he departed. “And if they don’t, remind them who you are.”

For a time, it seemed Satoru’s confidence in you was well-placed. You led the council with the same decisiveness and intelligence that had earned you your brother’s trust. Yet, despite your best efforts, there were those who could not look past your gender, who saw your presence at the head of the council as an affront to their honor.

The murmurs of discontent grew louder, the defiance more overt. They spoke over you, dismissed your ideas, and questioned your authority at every turn. It was subtle at first, but it quickly escalated into open disrespect. The council chamber, once a place where your voice had carried weight, became a battleground for your credibility.

You stood your ground, unyielding, but it became clear that your authority was being eroded with every passing day. The men who defied you believed that without your brother’s immediate presence, you could be undermined, your power stripped away.

It was during one of these tense council meetings, as the murmurs of dissent reached a fever pitch, that Geto Suguru intervened. Suguru, your brother’s general and most trusted right hand, had watched the unfolding situation with a quiet intensity.

He had always been a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice commanded attention. That day, as you stood before a council of men who dared to challenge your authority, Suguru rose from his place, his expression one of stern resolve.

“Enough.”

The single word silenced the room, the weight of his presence alone enough to command respect. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the gathered men, who now shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“This woman,” Suguru began, his voice calm but edged with steel, “is not just anyone. She is Gojo Satoru’s only sister, and she speaks with his voice. Any defiance of her is a defiance of Satoru himself. And if there is a man among you who believes he can dishonor her without consequence, then he dishonors Gojo Satoru. Such a man should commit seppuku to preserve Satoru’s goodwill with him.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the implications of Suguru’s words settling over the men like a shroud. You could see the way their expressions shifted, the bravado draining from their faces as the gravity of the situation became clear. To defy you now was not just to defy a woman—it was to defy the very man they served, the man who had led them through countless battles and brought them victories beyond measure.

Suguru’s eyes bore into each of them, leaving no room for doubt. “If there are any among you who wish to test this, step forward now.”

No one moved. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken tension. Finally, one by one, the men lowered their heads, offering the respect they had withheld before. Suguru’s gaze softened as he turned to you, a subtle nod of reassurance in his eyes. You returned the nod, grateful for his intervention, knowing that his words had restored your authority where it had been threatened.

From that day forward, the council meetings proceeded with the respect you had earned, the respect that Suguru had demanded on your behalf. The men no longer questioned your place at the head of the table, for they knew that to do so was to challenge not just you, but Satoru himself.

And in those moments, as you continued to lead in your brother’s stead, you felt the strength of your bond with him, a bond forged not just by blood, but by the unwavering trust that had brought you to this place of power.

As the council meeting came to an end, the tension that had filled the chamber slowly dissipated. The men dispersed, their heads bowed in respect, a far cry from the defiance they had shown earlier. You remained seated, your hands resting on the table, the weight of the day’s events heavy on your shoulders.

Geto Suguru lingered behind, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the sea of uncertainty. He approached you quietly, his movements deliberate and calm, and as he drew closer, you found yourself exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Thank you, my lord.” you said softly, turning to face him. The gratitude in your voice was unmistakable. “Your words... they meant a great deal to me, my lord. I don’t know what I would have done without your support.”

Suguru met your gaze, his expression warm yet composed. “There’s no need to thank me, my lady.” he replied, his tone sincere. “What I did was nothing more than what was necessary. You are Satoru’s sister, and he is like a brother to me. By extension, you are family to me as well. I would do anything for the both of you.”

His words, so simply spoken yet filled with such conviction, touched something deep within you. The bond between Suguru and your brother was well known, but hearing him extend that sense of loyalty and kinship to you was both comforting and humbling. You had not had a true family before. The nuns were kind to you and treated you well. But they were not family. They never will be. BUt maybe, just maybe — Satoru and Suguru could be what family means to you.

“Family…” you echoed, a small smile forming on your lips. “It’s strange to think how quickly that word has come to mean something so new and important in my life.”

Suguru nodded, his eyes holding a gentle understanding. “It’s a powerful thing, family. It binds us in ways that go beyond blood. And now, you’re part of that bond, just as much as anyone else.”

You looked at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, the kind that only existed when words had already said enough.

A thought crossed your mind, and you spoke before you could second-guess yourself. “Suguru… would you like to share dinner with me before you leave?”

The invitation was simple, but it carried a significance that you hoped he would understand. In this world of shifting alliances and uncertain loyalties, there was something to be said for breaking bread together, for sharing a moment of peace in the midst of so much chaos.

Suguru’s smile widened just a fraction, a rare softness in his usually stoic demeanor. “I would like that very much, my lady.”

The two of you made your way to the dining hall, where a modest meal had been prepared. The setting was humble, far removed from the grand feasts that often accompanied council gatherings, but it was welcoming in its simplicity. The table was set with warm rice, grilled fish, and a selection of seasonal vegetables, along with a pot of fragrant tea.

You took your seats across from each other, and as the first course was served, the tension of the day seemed to melt away. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of light banter and deeper reflection. Suguru spoke of the campaigns he and Satoru had led, the victories and the losses, and you shared your experiences of life in the temple, the wisdom imparted to you by the nuns who had raised you.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself laughing at a story Suguru told about Satoru—how your brother, for all his prowess on the battlefield, had an unfortunate habit of getting lost in the most mundane of places. The image of the great warrior wandering aimlessly in a village square, confused and exasperated, was enough to bring tears of mirth to your eyes.

Suguru chuckled, his own laughter low and warm. “He’d kill me if he knew I told you that, my lady.” he said, shaking his head. “But it’s true. Satoru may be brilliant, but even he has his moments.”

“I’ll keep your secret, my lord.” you promised, still smiling. “It’s good to know he’s human, after all.”

Suguru’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he simply looked at you, his expression thoughtful. “You’re a lot like him, you know?” he said quietly. “Not just in the way you think, but in the way you carry yourself. Satoru may not say it often, but I know he’s proud of you. You’ve come into this world with such strength and grace. It’s no wonder he trusts you so completely.”

His words struck a chord within you, and you felt a swell of emotion that you hadn’t expected. To be compared to your brother, to hear that he was proud of you… it meant more than you could put into words.

“Thank you, my lord Suguru.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “That means a great deal to me.”

He nodded, and the two of you fell into a companionable silence, content to simply enjoy each other’s presence. The meal continued, and as the last of the dishes were cleared away, you felt a sense of calm settle over you—a feeling that, despite the challenges you faced, you were not alone.

When the evening finally drew to a close, Suguru stood, bowing his head slightly in a gesture of respect. “I should be on my way, my lady.” he said, though there was no rush in his voice. “But I want you to know, if you ever need anything, you can always call on me.”

“I will.” you replied, rising to see him off. “And thank you again, my lord Suguru. For everything.”

He smiled, a small, genuine smile that seemed to light up his features. “Take care, my lady. And remember—family sticks together.”

With that, he turned and made his way out into the night, leaving you with a sense of warmth and a newfound understanding of the ties that bound you to those around you. And you think to yourself that you wanted it to last for the rest of your lives.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU THINK SATORU HAD LEFT SUGURU FOR YOU TO HAVE A FRIEND. Many days and weeks pushed on, but Geto Suguru made it a point to stay by your side.You think that Satoru was smart with such a thing, keeping his trusted sister and friend together. So far, it had worked like a wonder, keeping all the men in line.

And Suguru had been gallant, in trying to appear for each and every session of the council. He knew all too well that in a world dominated by men, your authority could easily be questioned in Satoru’s absence, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.

With Suguru’s steady presence, the council meetings continued to run smoothly, the men now fully aware that any disrespect towards you would not be tolerated. His mere presence was enough to quell any lingering doubts or challenges, and in time, the council began to accept your leadership with the same respect they afforded Satoru.

But it wasn’t just in the council chambers where Suguru’s support made a difference. Beyond the formalities of the politicking in the clan hierarchy, Geto Suguru became your intellectual companion, someone with whom you could share ideas freely. He did not once mock you for your interest in many things, in fact — he encouraged it, with every meeting, with every conversation, he indulged your wants.

The two of you spent countless hours long after council was over, engrossed in discussions that ranged from the teachings of the Buddha to the intricacies of clan politics.

Suguru had a way of making even the most complex topics seem approachable, and you relished every moment spent with him, whether it was delving into the nuances of the emperor’s court, debating the merits of various poems, or considering new ideas for education reform. His intellect challenged you, and you found yourself growing in ways you hadn’t expected.

One evening, as the council hall emptied and the candles flickered in the growing darkness, you lingered in your seat, knowing that Suguru would join you soon. When he did, he settled beside you with a thoughtful expression, his eyes filled with the calm intensity that had become so familiar to you.

"You’ve been quiet today." he remarked, his voice low and steady. "Is something on your mind?"

You glanced at him, feeling the weight of your thoughts but unsure how to express them. "I’ve been thinking about the future," you admitted. "About what happens after the war… after everything settles."

Suguru nodded, understanding your unspoken concerns. "It’s natural to wonder. But the future is not something we can control, only prepare for. And you’ve done more than anyone to prepare our clan for what’s to come."

His words were reassuring, but they didn’t dispel the unease that had settled in your heart. "I just… sometimes I wonder if all these preparations, all these plans, will truly lead to peace. Or if we’re simply paving the way for another conflict."

Suguru considered your words for a moment before replying. "Peace is always fragile. It requires constant vigilance and wisdom. But I believe that with the right leadership—your brother, and perhaps even you—peace can be more than just a fleeting moment. It can be a legacy."

His faith in you was unwavering, and it touched you deeply. "I hope you’re right," you said softly, your gaze dropping to the parchment on the table before you. "But sometimes, I feel like I’m just grasping at straws, trying to make sense of a world that’s constantly changing."

Suguru reached out, gently lifting your chin so that your eyes met his. "You’re doing more than that. You’re shaping that world, guiding it towards something better. And you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and I’ll continue to be here, to support you in any way I can."

His words sent a warmth through you, one that made your heart ache in the most bittersweet way. "Thank you, Suguru," you whispered. "For everything."

A small smile curved his lips, and he withdrew his hand, though his presence remained as steady as ever. "There’s nothing to thank me for. This is what I want to do, for you and for Satoru."

As the night deepened, your conversations continued, flowing from one topic to another with ease. And when Suguru was away, he would always write to you, his letters filled with the same thoughtful insights and challenges. Each letter pushed your boundaries, urging you to think more deeply, to see the world through different lenses.

One day, as you read through one of his letters, you found a passage that made you pause:

"The world is vast, and our understanding of it is limited by the walls we build around ourselves. But if we can break down those walls, if we can push beyond what we think we know, then perhaps we can find something truly extraordinary. It is you whose intelligence I hold dearest and in truth, the person who can do things that would change the world.”

You traced the words with your fingers, feeling the weight of them settle in your chest. Suguru’s challenges were never just intellectual exercises; they were a call to action, a reminder that the world was still full of possibilities, and that you had the power to shape it.

And so, you wrote back, your reply filled with your own questions, your own thoughts, eager to see how he would respond. The correspondence between you became a lifeline, a connection that sustained you both through the trials and tribulations of the war.

Suguru had always been a thoughtful man, deeply reflective and wise beyond his years. His understanding of the world was shaped by both his experiences on the battlefield and his deep respect for philosophical teachings. You found his insights fascinating, often finding yourself lost in the depth of your conversations, which ranged from the practical to the profound.

During those moments, Suguru couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up when you spoke of something you were passionate about, the gentle curve of your smile when you made a point that resonated with him. He had always thought you were beautiful—anyone could see that—but it was your tenacity, your intelligence, and your gentleness that truly captivated him.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. In you, he saw a rare combination of strength and compassion, a mind that was as sharp as any blade and a heart that was kind and forgiving.

The way you navigated the complexities of your new life, balancing the demands of leadership with the grace and wisdom you had learned at the temple, left him in awe.

Yet, despite the growing admiration he felt for you, Suguru kept those feelings buried deep within. To him, you were someone beyond reach, not because of any external barriers but because of his own sense of unworthiness.

He was a warrior, a man forged in battle and bloodshed, while you were a beacon of light, someone who had been touched by the serenity of the Buddha’s teachings. In his mind, the distance between who you were and who he was could never be bridged.

There were moments when he caught himself lost in thought, watching you as you spoke with that quiet authority, your words shaping the course of decisions that would impact the lives of many.

In those moments, a part of him longed to reach out, to tell you how much he admired you, how much he cared. But he never did. He couldn’t. To him, you deserved someone who was your equal, someone who could match your intellect and your spirit in ways he believed he could never hope to.

So, he stayed by your side, offering his loyalty and his companionship, content to be whatever you needed him to be. He ensured that no one dared to disrespect you, not just because of his loyalty to your brother, but because of the deep respect he had for you as an individual. He became a constant presence in your life, a steady rock in a world that often seemed to shift beneath your feet.

And while you might have seen him as a trusted ally and friend, for Suguru, every moment spent in your company was a reminder of what he could never allow himself to hope for.

You were, in his eyes, someone too precious, too good for a man like him. And so he kept his feelings hidden, choosing instead to honor you in the only way he knew how—by standing by your side, protecting you, and cherishing every conversation, every shared idea, every moment of quiet companionship.

In this way, Suguru made himself an indispensable part of your life, not realizing that his quiet devotion, his unwavering support, and the way he truly saw you for who you were had already made him far more worthy than he could ever imagine.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU WERE GLAD TO KNOW THAT SATORU WAS COMING HOME. The day your brother, Satoru, returned from the front was filled with anticipation. The courtyard was alive with the excited murmurs of those gathered to welcome him home, the air thick with the scent of incense and the rustle of fine silks as the crowd shifted in expectation. Your heartbeat a little faster, not just from the prospect of seeing your brother again, but from the knowledge that he would be pleased with the work you had done in his absence.

As Satoru arrived, tall and imposing in his armor, the crowd parted to allow him passage. His white hair gleamed in the sunlight, and despite the long months of battle, his step was as sure and confident as ever. His gaze swept over the gathered people, but it was your face he sought first. When his eyes found yours, a smile broke across his face, and he quickened his pace to reach you.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a warm embrace, his laughter rich with relief and pride. "Dearest sister!" he greeted, his voice filled with affection, "I’m home."

You returned his embrace, feeling a wave of emotion at having him back safely. “Welcome home, brother!” you replied, your voice steady, though your heart swelled with joy. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

He pulled back to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, “for all your hard work on my behalf. I knew I could trust you to lead in my stead, and you’ve done more than I could have ever asked.”

The warmth in his words settled deep within you, a validation of all that you had done in his absence. “I did only what was necessary.” you replied, though the gratitude in your voice was clear.

Satoru turned then, his gaze shifting to Suguru, who stood a respectful distance away. The moment their eyes met, Satoru’s expression softened further, a familiar tenderness evident between the two men.

“Suguru!” Satoru called out, beckoning him forward.

Suguru approached, bowing his head in respect before speaking. “Welcome home, Satoru. I’m glad to see you returned safely.”

Satoru’s smile broadened, and he clasped Suguru’s shoulder in a gesture of deep friendship. “Thank you, Suguru, for being a confidant to my sister during this time. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to know she wasn’t alone.”

Suguru shook his head, his expression as composed as ever. “It is nothing but a great duty to fulfill for my vassal lord and friend,” he said, his tone formal and deferential.

But Satoru frowned at that, his grip on Suguru’s shoulder tightening slightly. “Don’t be so formal with me, Suguru,” he chided, though his tone was light. “You know better than that. You’re more than just a vassal. You’re my brother in arms, my friend. And you’ve done more for me and my sister than I could ever repay.”

Suguru’s gaze flickered with something unreadable, but he quickly schooled his expression. “I appreciate your words, Satoru.” he replied quietly. “But my duty calls me back to the front. I must return soon.”

Satoru’s frown deepened, and he shook his head, refusing to let go of Suguru’s shoulder. “No, I won’t hear of it!” he insisted. “You’ve been at the front longer than anyone. You need rest, and I won’t have you running off the moment you’ve set foot here. Stay as long as you can. That’s an order.”

Suguru hesitated, clearly torn between his sense of duty and his loyalty to Satoru. But seeing the determination in your brother’s eyes, he finally nodded. “If that is your order, Satoru, then I will stay.”

“Good.” Satoru said, his tone firm but kind. “That’s settled then. You’ll stay here with us, and you’ll take the time you need to rest and recover. The front will still be there when you’re ready to return.”

As Suguru accepted the command, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Having Suguru stay, even for a little longer, was something you hadn’t realized you’d wanted until now. He had become an important part of your life in your brother’s absence, and the thought of him leaving so soon after Satoru’s return had left you with an unexpected emptiness.

Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the fleeting look on your face and smiled knowingly. “You see, sister?” he said, turning to you. “I’ve managed to keep our dear Suguru here for a little longer. We all need him here, not just on the battlefield.”

You smiled, grateful for Satoru’s understanding, and nodded. “Yes, we do. Thank you, brother.”

With the matter settled, the three of you made your way into the inner chambers, where preparations had been made for a private celebration of Satoru’s return. The atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and the shared relief of being together once more. As you sat together, the bonds of family and friendship felt stronger than ever, and for that moment, the weight of the world outside seemed to fade away.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself spending more and more time with Suguru. The bond between you deepened, the trust and respect that had grown in your brother's absence now blossoming into something more complex, something that you couldn’t quite name but felt deeply. Suguru was older, wiser, and had seen so much more of the world than you had, but there was a connection between you that transcended those differences. Slowly but surely, you realized that you were becoming enthralled by your feelings for him.

Despite the age difference, despite his steadfast focus on his career and his role as your brother’s most trusted general, you couldn’t help the way your heart quickened when you were near him. Suguru, ever the composed and duty-bound man, never gave any indication that he was aware of your feelings. He was kind, respectful, and treated you as an equal in your discussions, but there was always a certain distance, a formality that he maintained, even in the quiet moments you shared.

One evening, after the council had ended and the palace had settled into the calm of the night, you found yourself wandering through the lily gardens with Suguru. The moon was full, casting a soft, silvery light over the still waters of the pond and the delicate white lilies that floated on its surface.

The air was cool, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves of the nearby trees. It was a serene, almost otherworldly setting, perfect for the conversations you often found yourselves having under the cover of darkness.

As you walked side by side, your footsteps soft on the stone path, you spoke of the future. Of what might come after the war, when the battles were over, and the land was finally at peace. You talked of the things you wanted to do—small, simple things like traveling to the nearby villages, visiting the temples you had only heard of in stories, and seeing the world beyond the palace walls.

Suguru listened, his expression thoughtful as always, but there was a trace of something in his eyes that made your heart ache—a longing that mirrored your own, though he would never voice it.

But tonight, there was something more pressing on your mind, something that had been weighing on you ever since your brother had returned from the front. After a pause in your conversation, you gathered your courage and spoke, your voice soft yet firm. “Suguru… Satoru has begun to find a husband for me.”

Suguru stopped walking, turning to face you. His expression didn’t change, but you saw the subtle tension in his posture, the way his hands clenched slightly at his sides. “It’s what’s best, my lady.” he replied after a moment, his tone carefully neutral. “A marriage to form alliances would strengthen your brother’s position and secure your future.”

You shook your head, the words catching in your throat. “I don’t see it that way,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the emotions you could no longer contain. “Because… I’ve fallen in love with you, Suguru.”

For a moment, there was silence. The world around you seemed to still, the only sound the gentle rustling of the lilies in the breeze. Suguru’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, or maybe something deeper, something he had kept hidden for a long time.

“I don’t care about any of that.” you interrupted, your voice firmer now, driven by the strength of your feelings. “I don’t care about reputation or duty. I only care about you, about what we could have together. I want you to be with me, Suguru. Not as my brother’s general, but as the man I love.”

Suguru looked at you then, really looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. There was a deep conflict in his eyes, a battle between his sense of duty and the emotions he had tried so hard to suppress. He took a step closer, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out to you, might take your hand or pull you into his arms. But he stopped himself, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“I’m not worthy of you, my lady.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just a soldier, a man who has done terrible things in the name of duty. You deserve someone who can give you the life you’ve dreamed of, someone who can stand beside you in the light, not someone who is forever tainted by the darkness of war.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the pain you could hear beneath them. But you refused to accept them. “I don’t want someone else.” you said, taking a step closer to him, closing the distance between you. “I want you, Suguru. I don’t care about the past or what you think you deserve. I know who you are, and I love you for it. Please… don’t push me away.”

Suguru’s resolve seemed to falter then, his purple eyes closing as if trying to block out the reality of your words. He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the distant chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of the wind in the trees. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, my lady.” he said, opening his eyes to meet yours. “But I’m afraid I already have.”

You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes. “You haven’t, my lord.” you insisted. “But you will if you walk away from me now.”

Suguru looked at you, his expression filled with a sorrow that you hadn’t seen before. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, resigned. “If I stay, if I allow myself to feel this way about you, it won’t be easy. There will be challenges, people who will try to tear us apart. Your brother might not even approve…”

“I don’t care, my lord….Suguru.” you said, stepping even closer, so that you were only a breath away from him. “I’ll face whatever comes if it means being with you.”

Suguru looked at you for a long moment, his purple eyes searching for yours, as if trying to find the strength to say what he needed to say. Finally, he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch was hesitant, as if he was afraid to break you, but you leaned into it, closing your eyes as you felt the warmth of his skin against yours.

“I wish I could be the man you deserve.” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet despair. “But if you’re willing to take this risk, then I won’t let you face it alone.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a mix of relief and determination. “I am willing, Suguru.” you said softly, your heart full of the love you had for him. “As long as you’re by my side.”

Suguru nodded, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “Then I’ll stay, for you.” he said, his voice firm with resolve. “And I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make this work… even if it means defying everything I thought I knew.”

With those words, you knew that the bond between you had changed, deepened in ways that neither of you could have anticipated. The future was uncertain, the challenges ahead daunting, but for now, in the quiet of the lily garden under the moonlit sky, you had each other. And that, you knew, was more than enough.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

THE MORE YOU WERE TOGETHER, THE MORE YOU FELL FOR HIM. And along with the flow of time, the boundaries between you blurred until they disappeared entirely. What began as stolen moments in the lily gardens turned into lingering touches, soft words whispered in the dark, and eventually, the first tentative kiss. That kiss led to another, and then another, until you both could no longer deny the passion that had ignited between you.

Geto Suguru, ever the restrained and disciplined man, tried to keep his distance, to maintain the boundaries that he believed were necessary. But you could see the way he struggled, the way his resolve weakened whenever you were near. And you, in turn, found yourself growing more insatiable for him, drawn to his quiet strength, his intellect, and the gentleness that he showed only to you.

It wasn’t long before your relationship became intimate. The nights you spent together were filled with whispered confessions, tender caresses, and the kind of closeness that left you breathless, yearning for more. Each touch, each shared moment, only deepened the bond between you, until it became something undeniable, something that you couldn’t hide, even if you tried.

Suguru’s movements were rhythmic and deliberate, each thrust a testament to the intensity of his feelings. Your body responded instinctively, shivering under the persistent wave of pleasure that seemed to emanate from every part of him. The connection between you both was palpable, a perfect union of touch and desire that left you breathless and yearning.

As he pressed closer, the heat between you became almost unbearable. You could feel every inch of him, his length moving with a purposeful glide that seemed to match the cadence of your own heartbeats. His focus was unwavering, his gaze locked onto your expressions of bliss, as if he were memorizing each fleeting moment of your shared ecstasy.

Suguru’s lips were gentle yet insistent, trailing a path of fiery kisses along your skin. He started at your jawline, moving down to your neck, where his kisses became more fervent, brushing against the sensitive spots that made you moan uncontrollably. His touch was a mix of tenderness and passion, each kiss a silent declaration of his love.

The way his lips traveled over your shoulder blades and collarbone, down to your breasts, was both reverent and adoring. He seemed to savor every inch of you, each kiss a testament to his longing and his desire to make you feel cherished and adored. His breathing grew ragged, his desire for you as evident as the ardent affection in his kisses.

Suguru’s love was consuming, a powerful force that seemed to envelope you both in a cocoon of heat and intimacy. His movements were a dance of devotion, each motion and kiss an expression of his deep-seated love. He wanted to give you everything, to love you with a passion that knew no bounds, until either of you could bear the intensity any longer.

Suguru’s senses were overwhelmed by the intense heat enveloping him. Each time he pulled back, he felt the burning warmth of your inner flesh clinging to him, a tantalizing reminder of the connection you shared. The contrast between the cool air and the searing heat of your body created a heightened sense of urgency, making every moment even more electric.

He withdrew momentarily, the emptiness only intensifying his need to be reunited with you. His breath came in ragged bursts, a mixture of frustration and desire fueling his movements. When he finally pressed back into you, it was with a force that spoke of his longing and the sheer intensity of his passion.

Suguru’s hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding and angling them to better meet his thrusts. His movements were decisive and powerful, each push and pull a testament to his deep-seated desire. The rhythm he established was relentless, his member driving into you with a raw, unrestrained energy. Every thrust was accompanied by a shudder of pleasure, both from him and you, as the heat between you built to a fervent crescendo.

His focus was entirely on you, the way your body responded to him, the way you felt around him. The sound of your moans and the look of sheer pleasure on your face drove him to new heights, his need to be with you, to feel this connection, only growing stronger with each passing second.

But as much as you tried to keep your relationship a secret from your brother, it wasn’t long before the truth could no longer be hidden. The realization came with a sudden, undeniable clarity: you were pregnant.

The days following that intense night were filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation. As you navigated through your routine, you began to notice subtle changes in your body. What started as a vague sense of nausea and fatigue soon became more pronounced, prompting you to a conclusion.

The morning understood what was going on, a whirlwind of emotions took over you. You stared at yourself and then your belly, your heart pounding in your chest. Fear and excitement warred within you as you grappled with the reality of your situation.

You were carrying Suguru’s child, a life born from the love that you shared, but also a secret that could change everything. You knew that your brother, Satoru, would not take the news lightly. He had always been protective of you, and this… this would be seen as a betrayal.

The day your brother discovered the truth was etched into your memory with vivid, painful clarity. You had dreaded this moment, knowing that the inevitable confrontation would come, but nothing could have fully prepared you for the storm that followed.

The atmosphere was thick with tension as you stood in the living room, your heart racing. Satoru stormed in, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and hurt that made your stomach churn. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, replaced by an intensity that you had never seen before. He had sensed something was wrong for weeks, and the truth had hit him like a sledgehammer.

“Who is he?” Satoru’s voice was a harsh whisper, laced with a barely contained rage. His eyes locked onto you, his gaze piercing through you as if trying to unravel the truth hidden within your silence.

"Brother, please...."

“Who’s the father?” His demand echoed through the room, each word sharp and accusatory, slicing through the fragile veneer of your composure.

The weight of his anger was suffocating. You stood there, feeling small and vulnerable, your hands trembling at your sides. The emotional turmoil inside you was overwhelming, a tangled mess of guilt, fear, and sorrow. You wanted to explain, to find the right words to make him understand, but the sheer intensity of the moment left you paralyzed.

Suguru, who had been silently supporting you, stepped forward, his own face a mask of regret and determination. He had been waiting for this confrontation, knowing that it was his responsibility to face the consequences of their actions. With a deep breath, he took the weight of the situation onto his shoulders.

“Satoru,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with a sorrowful undertone, “I’m the father.”

The revelation hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. Satoru’s expression shifted from anger to disbelief, and then to a deeper pain that seemed to cut through his very core. The anger that had once burned so fiercely now gave way to a profound sense of betrayal and heartbreak. His eyes, usually so full of warmth and understanding, were now clouded with tears that he fought to hold back.

Suguru’s admission was met with a silence that was almost unbearable. The tension in the room was palpable, each of you waiting for the other to break the silence. You could see the struggle in Satoru’s face as he tried to process the reality of the situation, the hurt and confusion evident in every line of his expression.

“I never thought...” Satoru’s voice faltered, his anger giving way to a raw, aching sadness. He looked between you and Suguru, his emotions a turbulent sea of conflicting feelings. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this from me?”

Suguru’s gaze was steady, but his heart was breaking as he met Satoru’s eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Satoru.” he said softly. “But I know that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“You do not have to worry.” Suguru said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. He met Satoru’s gaze head-on, not flinching even as the anger in your brother’s eyes intensified. “It was not planned….But I take full responsibility, Satoru. Please.”

Satoru’s reaction was immediate and explosive. “You’re supposed to be my most trusted general, my friend, and you… you’ve done this? With my sister? And you didn’t marry her?”

Suguru’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “I never intended to disrespect you or your family. I care for her deeply, and I will do what is right.”

The words only seemed to fuel Satoru’s rage. “You should have done what was right from the start! How could you let this happen, Suguru? How could you—”

“I didn’t need to marry him.” you interrupted, your voice shaking as you tried to step between them, to defuse the situation before it spiraled out of control. “I love him, Satoru. We love each other, and I don’t need a marriage to prove that.”

But your words only seemed to make things worse. Satoru turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. “You don’t understand what this means, how it looks. If you’re with child and not married, it could ruin everything. Our alliances, our reputation—everything we’ve fought for…..”

Suguru placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you even as the storm of emotions swirled around you. “I will marry her, Satoru.” he said firmly, his voice calm but resolute. “You don’t have to worry about shame. We will marry and no one will know.”

Satoru stared at Suguru for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with the force of his emotions. It was clear that he was torn, caught between his duty to his family and his loyalty to Suguru. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I have no other choice about this.” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “If you’re going to marry her, then you need to do it soon. We’ll make the arrangements, and you’ll stand before everyone and make this right.”

Suguru nodded, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as if to reassure you. “I will. You have my word.”

You looked up at Suguru, your heart full of a mixture of love, relief, and anxiety for what lay ahead. This wasn’t how you had imagined things would unfold, but you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face whatever challenges came your way. And so, with a heavy but hopeful heart, you took a deep breath and prepared to face the future together.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

YOU NEVER EXPECTED ALL OF THIS, BUT LIFE IS STRANGE. And perhaps you were now more resigned to it than ever before. The day of your wedding to Suguru was both solemn and beautiful, a ceremony that cemented not only your love but also your shared commitment to the future.

Despite the circumstances that led to it, the vows you exchanged were heartfelt, and as you stood beside him, you felt a deep sense of belonging, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

Suguru remained by your side through the remainder of your pregnancy, refusing to leave even as the war called to him. He was there for every moment, every kick, and every anxious night as you awaited the arrival of your children. When the day finally came, and you bore twin daughters, his joy was immeasurable. He held you close, kissed your forehead, and whispered his gratitude for the family you had given him.

The day Suguru had to return to the battlefield was a poignant reminder of the harsh realities that overshadowed your time together. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room, the reality of his departure loomed heavily over both of you. The weight of impending separation was unbearable, each moment stretching painfully as the hour of his departure drew nearer.

You found yourself clinging to him, your grip firm yet trembling, as tears streamed down your cheeks. Every part of you ached with the fear and sadness of watching him leave for another dangerous mission. His presence had become your sanctuary, and the thought of him stepping back into the chaos of war was almost too much to bear. Your sobs were muffled against his chest, the fabric of his uniform a stark reminder of the danger he faced.

Suguru’s hands were gentle as he reached up to wipe away your tears. His touch was tender, yet firm, as if he were trying to transfer some of his strength to you. His own eyes were filled with a sorrowful resolve, the weight of the duty he was about to undertake clear in every line of his face. Despite his bravery and determination, it was evident that leaving you behind was a painful sacrifice.

As he held you, his gaze shifted to the cot where your daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, slept peacefully. Their innocent faces were serene, their small bodies rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Suguru’s heart ached at the sight of them, his love for them and the desire to protect them a palpable force. His eyes lingered on them, a silent vow passing between him and their slumbering forms—a promise to return safely, to be there for them and you.

"I don’t want to leave you." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he held you close, feeling the warmth of your daughters swaddled in his arms. “All three of you.”

"I know that." you whispered back, your voice breaking. "But you must. For Satoru, for our peace… But promise me, Suguru, that you'll take care of my brother. Bring him back to us. And…And come back to us too. Please."

"I promise, my love." he vowed, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "I will protect him with my life, just as I will protect our family. I will come back to you, I swear."

The parting was an agonizing ordeal, each moment stretching into an eternity as you watched Suguru ride away. With your daughters, Mimiko and Nanako, nestled in your arms, you felt the weight of the world press heavily upon your heart. The sight of him disappearing into the distance, framed by the setting sun, was a poignant reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead. As the last glimpse of him vanished, you could only hold your children tighter, whispering prayers for his safety and for a swift end to the unrelenting war.

Days turned into months, and months into years, each passing moment a relentless reminder of the ongoing conflict. The once-familiar rhythm of life had been disrupted, replaced by an enduring wait for peace. The world outside was fraught with turmoil, but within the sanctuary of the temple where your journey with Suguru had begun, you found a semblance of tranquility.

Returning to the temple was a return to roots, a place of peace amidst the chaos of the world. It was where you had first found solace and a sense of purpose alongside Suguru, and now it became a refuge for you and your daughters. The temple's serene environment provided a safe haven where you could nurture them, shielding them from the harsh realities of the outside world.

Every corner of the temple held echoes of the past—memories of quiet moments shared with Suguru, of dreams and plans woven together in the tranquil surroundings. It was a place that had once symbolized new beginnings, and now it served as a testament to endurance and hope.

As you raised your daughters in this sanctuary, you immersed yourself in the rhythms of temple life, finding comfort in its routines and in the community that embraced you. You taught them the values and lessons that had been so important to you and Suguru, hoping to instill in them the same strength and resilience that had guided you through these challenging years.

The temple, with its tranquil gardens and reverent halls, became a living monument to your waiting, a symbol of the enduring love that bound you to Suguru. Every day was a step closer to the dream of seeing the land united and your husband safely returned to you. Until that day came, you held onto the hope that peace would prevail and that your family would be whole once more.

In the stillness of the temple, surrounded by the quiet hum of prayer and the gentle presence of your daughters, you found a sense of purpose and patience. Your love for Suguru remained a guiding light, illuminating the path through the darkness of uncertainty and keeping the promise of reunion alive in your heart.

Years passed, and news of the Gojo clan's victory spread across the land and peace was finally achieved. The land was finally unified, and the long years of war had come to an end. You clung to the hope that with this victory, Your Suguru would return to you, that the promise he made would finally be fulfilled.

And then, one day, as you stood at the steps of the temple, you saw him. Geto Suguru, looking weary yet strong, with the weight of years and battle etched into his features. He stood there, gazing at you with eyes full of longing and love, and you felt your heart leap in your chest.

Without hesitation, you ran to him, your daughters' voices calling after you, but you couldn’t stop. The world seemed to blur around you as you crossed the distance between you and the man you had been waiting for all these years. When you finally reached him, you threw yourself into his arms, holding him as tightly as you could, as if to make up for all the time you had spent apart.

"Welcome home, my love." you whispered, your voice thick with tears, your face buried in his chest. The scent of him, the feel of his arms around you, it was all so familiar, so comforting, that it felt like a dream.

Suguru held you close, his embrace fierce and full of the love he had carried with him through every battle, every hardship. "I’m home, my dear." he murmured into your hair, his voice choking with emotion. "I’m finally home."

Your daughters, now old enough to understand the significance of the moment, stood a little ways off, watching with wide eyes as their father returned to them. You turned to them, beckoning them forward, and they ran to join the embrace, their laughter and tears mingling with your own.

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