#[ he welcomes death as an old friend and for the first time does not try to avoid it

[bietrofastimoff23]

Lately I've been thinking a lot about how Aegon won't have the opportunity to bid farewell to his brothers, sister-wife, son. and the funeral of Jaehaerys will be the first and last for him, not because others will be saved, but because the bodies of most of them will not be found.

[prettyboykatsuki]

BLOOD FEUDS, ANCIENT AND MODERN | RYOMEN SUKUNA.

✮ tags ; no curses au, blood incest, use of honorifics (oji-san) abuse (mostly verbal / emotional), classism, grooming / generally predatory behavior, large age gaps (20+ yrs), blood feuds, imbalanced power dynamics, white collar crime, afab + fem!niece!reader, uncle sukuna, the word rape used in text, non/dubcon (not noncon necessarily), fingering, petnames (little one, kid, little lamb), thigh-fucking, and other things, very horrible and gross sukuna behavior 18+

this is very dark and it deals BRIEFLY with sukuna being very predatory to reader when she's UNDERAGE / young. nothing explicit happens WHILE she is underage, but sukuna does leer at reader and it is mentioned. please proceed with caution !!!

PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!

✮ wc ; 10.3k (???????????)

✮ a/n ; thank you vic @saintshigaraki for always indulging my nonsense and also tomfoolery. kissing you.

i'll be honest lads this one got away from me BAD jksdfhjs. i think its interesting at least.I KNOW THE TAGS ARE WICKED but i promise its like. kind of sexy at least.

also yes the title is from the rdr2 soundtrack shhh

✮ synopsis ; blood is thicker than water. resentment, you think, is thicker than both.

Bastard.

An intimately familiar title, lacking tooth and effect. It's meaning eroded with time and usage - and a moniker you've wielded proudly for as long as you can remember. You don't recall much of your life before it became part of you.

The daughter born of wedlock. Bastard daughter. The only remaining stain to your family's reputation aside from your late father.

Your mother often tells you that you were her hardest child to birth. When you were littler it was a story relayed to you with affection, and but now it's with such bitter hatred you can feel it lodged in your throat.

The most important element is the predestination in it. You came into the world kicking and screaming, throat hoarse and violent. From birth, you knew you were half-forged with bad blood and came into the world trying to be absolved of it. It's shaped your life, your relationships, everything about you.

The other half of your DNA, the good half, is from your father. Before you were a bastard, you were your parents' only child. Your father was a good man. The best you know. An average, humble man. From a generation of other working class men with a tough job in construction. Your best memories come from when he was still alive.

A quiet life, untainted by the residual bitterness of your mothers heritage. You lived away from it, outside of it. The mother in your memories from back then seem like a dream now, some mirage from long ago - disinterested in anything but you and your father. Your mama and papa. Your father took good care of you both, and your mother loved him madly.

You lived as a normal family in a small apartment just outside of Gifu for the first seven years of your life. You attended a small local school and had friends with crooked teeth and messy hair.

Your childhood was mostly happy if you break it up into pieces like that. Blissfully uneventful.

There's a concise break of change of what your life was versus what became of it. Your fathers death the splinter in the wood, separating the two halves.

The worst of your childhood, of course, came in your fathers passing. Not just because of the loss, but what it made of your life. His funeral welcomed people of all walks of life with the most notable absence of your elusive mothers side of the family.

Another old memory you have with your mother is looking at her face during your fathers wake. The deep darkness of her eyes, sunken in and hollow. The first time you ever found her terrifying instead of comforting. While the world mourned your father, your mother—you think—mourned her life.

Forced into single motherhood with no prospects and no career, your mother decided it was best for the both of you to return home.

You think the worst of your life started there.

Your mother's side of the family has never welcomed you with open arms. You wouldn't come to know why until much later. You were a child then. There's no way you could've known about feuds that deep.

The only thing you knew was that you were hated vehemently, and nothing could change that.

Your grandmother's estate was always frightening to you in your childhood. You've yet to grow out of that feeling despite living there for the last fifteen years. It's remained unchanged since you moved in and the lights in the hall never seems bright enough. Jade green painted walls and white tile floors. Some rooms have classically Japanese flooring and heirloom paintings from the Heian era. Others modernized with sterile whites and grays and house plants that add no life to it at all. Stretched wide with tens of rooms, and easy for a child to get lost in.

A sinking abyss. A terrible place. A dark labyrinth. Anxiety inducing to even think about now. No place for a child your size or your age.

The best way to describe your childhood after your father died was cold. Removed from your life in the suburbs and placed among other rich kids, you became overtly self-conscious of the differences between you and them. Them being anyone who grew up wealthy and your other extended family. You were constantly reminded of your place as the bastard child. Later learning how your mother left her fiance many years ago for your father, your poor and worthless father.

(You theorize any warmth that your mother had for you was buried in your dead dads casket. Living there, among them, made sure she'd never find it again.)

Your mother is the most complicated part of your life. You don't have a time for when she gave up on raising you. There was a year when she tried, you think. For the most part, you lived in that house utterly alone. 

At first that abandonment was miserable (as it would be to any child, certainly) but a time came where you were glad you saw so little of her.

Your mother, who you had once loved and thought highly of, became a pitiful prey animal in the four walls of your grandmother's house. Small and anxious and utterly hateful. A bunny born with some cosmic knowledge and horrific understanding that its destiny is to become food for a wolf. Viciousness between her siblings, no doubt fostered by your grandparents and their establishment, tore apart the aspects of her your father mended and ruined her. You were too little to stop it. 

Blood feuds that ran bone-chillingly deep plagued most of the interactions with your extended family for as long as you've been a part of them. Your mother has exactly four siblings. Two sisters between her with her as the middle daughter, and two brothers. One of which is estranged so completely you don't know his name.

And the other being your Uncle Sukuna.

Your hatred for your aunts and their children came to you rather naturally. For every gala and ball and charity fund your worthless bloodline ever raised, came catty arguments and verbal abuse from the shallow mouths of your beloved cousins. You had nothing to prove to anyone in that house. You were detested since your birth and your grandparents made no small effort to show you through as much neglect and verbal lashing as they could get away with.

Rotten girl. Cursed daughter. You're the reason your mother is like this. You're the reason she is miserable. You should've been buried with your father.

Compared to the experience of your grandfather ripping into you at age ten for simply being alive, your cousin's commentary on you was remarkably uninteresting. You resented them for being nuisances, though, with the exception of maybe one who bucked it out of that place as soon as they could. Just like you planned too.

For a long time, Sukuna wasn't around enough to have a real presence in your consciousness. You tried not to think of your extended family more than you had too. You got used to not knowing about your relatives living there, but there was no one so elusive as him.

It was as if, increasingly, you heard whispers of his name at everything you were forced to attend.

The first time you ever meet your Uncle, you're freshly sixteen. It's the birthday party your mother throws for you each year in an effort to show how close the two of you are to the rest of your relatives.

The first time you see Sukuna in person, the only thing on your mind is how much he stands out from the rest of your relatives. He's a head taller than the tallest person there, and he's...bigger. He's not clean or neat, scruff lining his chin. Old, dark eyes. Visible tattoos that reek of disgraced son and hardly of prodigy.

At sixteen, you understood intimately what your family considered to be gold standard. Your uncle was antithetical to it. His very existence a paradox to the ideas you've had been hammered into you for years. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos - his suit jacket undone to expose his chest. Lacking respect and formality and dignity. 

He was a lot like you. You got that impression, somehow.

When your eyes met with your uncles for the first time, you had your second fully formed thought about him.

Dangerous. Like an alarm. Like a ringing bell, throbbing through your skull and pulsing through your teeth. Some part of you just knew that he was a very dangerous man. Not just a wealthy one.

The first conversation you ever had with your uncle proves to be the most significant. Brief, yet - tonal in all ways. The gold standard for how he viewed you. How he would view you.

How he would treat you.

("So you're the new brat,"

Your uncle is an imposing man. You are sixteen and slightly tipsy, which is the least horrible thing you could be since your other cousin is coked out in the bathroom upstairs. You sway, staring at him. You think that's disrespectful.

He's the kind of man who might kill you for that. Might hit you. But you don't find it in yourself to challenge your defiance when you're far from sober and even father form happy. You lean your weight to one side and hum.

"New bastard," You correct him, and take another sip of the flute of champagne in your hand. "My worthless fathers, worthless daughter."

Sukuna pauses, his eyes widening before his lips break out into a grin. You wonder if it's because you're drunk. You think he's staring at you. Your eyes are too blurry to tell but you think he's gazing down the low dip of your top. At the curve of your chest. Leering at the body you've yet to even grow into.

"Tenacious," Your uncle says, and takes a long drink of his sake. You stare at the edge of his glass, carmine eyes gazing so deeply at you - you think you'll throw up. "You're your mothers daughter. Through and through.")

The night of your sixteenth birthday, your uncle announced he'd be opening a business venture in Tokyo. All this time he'd been doing work overseas, but seeing family helped finalized his decision. You remember the look on his face when he announced it. Remembered his eyes searching on you through the crowd as he held the mic up to his lips. How he named you the main reason, one conversation and he grew so fond of his little niece. That you were a clever girl, and that even though he hadn't known you long - he was sure you'd go so far.

Happy Birthday to you, little lamb.

You remember best the feeling afterwards. How the crowd went nearly silent. Hundreds of eyes darting your way in seas of strangers. All the attention people hadn’t paid suddenly mattering, all the congratulations. You remember how they crowded you and how your uncle came to your rescue with a cheeky grin and air of nonchalance.

You remember feeling sick. You remember the chill creeping up your spine, bile in your throat - all wet eyes and nausea.

Your uncle is a dangerous man. And you, the uninteresting bastard daughter, had caught his full attention.

The next four years of your life would pass so slowly, you often wondered during them, if you died that night and you'd live through these days as punishment for the crime of existing.

A little after your birthday, your uncle moved back to Japan permanently - in a residence not far from your grandmother's estate. He became a permanent fixture in your life. Many things came with that reality, none of them being especially pleasant.

You learn three things in the four years you spend with your uncle in your life.

The first is that your uncle is more powerful than you can really understand.

Through conversations at your kitchen table about his escapades abroad, you learn nothing of the work he actually does. Only what it involves, who it involves - foreign governments and people much more powerful than your family. Your uncle has ties to the Gojo family, and the Zenins'. Your time here teaches you that they make up two halves of private militarized arms and they work domestically and internationally. The only thing you need to know about them is they are filthy rich, richer than your own family and twice as corrupt.

And Sukuna works with them. Knows them rather intimately, from the pictures you've seen of Sukuna and Gojo Satoru drinking together - two prodigal sons with silver spoons and unsettling demeanors.

The second thing you learn is that your uncle's power and influence extend past all borders and include your grandparents and relatives. In the years he'd been away from home, he's garnered a formidable reputation. You never cared to notice it before, but it's all you can see now. Every arrogant, vapid relative you have the displeasure of calling family sees your uncle as some sort of king. The golden ticket to grandparents approval. A wishing well for all their hopes and dreams - so long as they appease him.

They fawn over him. Sukuna knows it. But they're all so busy trying to get on his good side they never catch his subtleties. Never seem to notice the cold sarcasm and biting edge to his questions. They pander and peacock to him constantly, but not one of them has sense enough to understand him a little deeper. Except you, incidentally. That's part of your problem

The third thing you learn about your uncle is that he takes pleasure in your cleverness no one in your life has since.... who knows? Since your father died, you think.

And you are clever. A head smarter than the rest of your family and a try-hard in all aspects. You graduated highschool top of your class and got scholarships into better schools. It was never about proving your worth of course, but about survival. You wanted away from this place, and the only way to cut your ties completely is to carve a life for yourself. Academia, education, using your name to make connections - you've been working silently on it since you were in middle school.

The only person who'd ever noticed your accomplishments was Sukuna. In between his work, he'd visit you in your room. You grew close in one sense of the word. It was a secret kept between you - but Sukuna often reminded you of it. That he saw you for who you were when no one else did. That his interest in you exceeds your own understanding, and it'd be in your best interest to remember that.

Some half-way between threats and affection, for four years - your uncle remained at your side. Uneasy as you were, he'd never try to advance on you while you were still in highschool. Some part of you knew he wasn't above it. Rather his interest hinged on getting to know you.

Your uncle is above all things manipulative.

Rather he preferred to keep you on your toes during the duration of your time together. To get close but not too close. To get to know each other openly. Your uncle made sure everyone in your family knew of his fondness for you. He'd keep you close to his side or follow you around, always in public places with a million eyes. He'd whisper to you, laughed and asked questions.

You hated being the center of attention, so Sukuna turned it on you any chance he got. It made it hard for you to refuse him, but mostly it made it hard to go under the radar without his protection. It made it hard for your relatives to insult and berate you.

You hated it. You hated accepting his kindness, because you know your uncle well enough to know that everything in the world came with a cost. And that this protection is little more than luxury, promised to you as long as you played nice.

And you always did play nice. But you were cautious. Never alone too long in the same room. Never somewhere too late. Never drunk, never high. Always within distance of a door. Sukuna was a dangerous man, and you may be a bastard but you're no fool.

It'd work for years. You evaded any real alone time with him for years. Years.

Until earlier this year where your mother had made arrangements for you to spend the summer with your dear old Uncle - in his villa, far from the safety of Japan's main island.

In the years of your uncle's favoritism towards you, no one has been more pleased than your mother. You've come to hate her for it. Your relationship hasn't been good in years and for her to suddenly attempt to be your mother again felt like a mockery.

(It mostly felt like a betrayal. You didn't think she could betray you a second time after she all but abandoned you the minute she stepped foot in that house.

Like something possessing the corpse of the mama in your dreams, your seething hatred towards her started then you think.)

You'd spent years indifferent to her, but it was this change that made you hate her down to your bones. You were furious about the decision. Furious she didn't bother asking, furious about all of it.

About everything.

An entire summer alone with the man you know to be most dangerous to you. You wouldn't put it past Sukuna, to plan this around you - but it didn't make it any less frustrating.

("You'll be going with your uncle," Your mother says, hardly listening to you. There's a baby on her hip, your half-brother and a vacant look in her eyes. You feel your jaw tighten. "We've already made plans. Your stepfather,"

"Your husband." You correct. Your mother gives you a tight-lipped smile.

"We are going on a family vacation. Your grandparents wouldn't tolerate you here alone , so you're going and that's final."

"I don't need to live with you," You seethe, fighting the urge to grab her and punch her. You've never been violent. Your mother makes you homicidal. "I can find my own fucking place, I'm twenty I don't need-"

She slams something. Your half-brother makes watery eyes. She stares at you distantly, righteously angry. Whether she's earned that anger or not, it makes your mood worse. .

"This is the least you could for me. For us." She hisses, turning around. You think of killing her. "For all the shit you put me through."

"What I put you through? Fuck you," You admit, your throat burning like a star falling through the atmosphere. Then, through a shaky breath"There's something off about him, mom. Do you understand what I'm fucking saying? Where you're sending me?

Three expressions pass over her face. The ghost of grief, some kind of solace and then more vacancy. She swallows, turns around to keep folding baby clothes. Her voice trembles. She knows she's sending you to your doom. Knows what waits for you as soon as you go.

"You're going. We need this." She says, and still doesn't turn to look at you. Her voice is so frigid it doesn't sound like hers anymore. "That's final."

You shouldn't be shocked by it anymore, but it doesn't make it easier.

You slam the door on your wait out. You hope their plane crashes on the way there.)

You tried your best to worm your way out of the situation before the semester closed out. But Sukuna, three steps ahead of you at all times, made sure that wasn't possible. Your uncle owned a villa out on an island, private - and the bags had already been packed. You'll like it there, he assured you so many times, it's comfortable. There's a good view and the kids in the place will remind you of the kids you grew up with.

(It's hard not to notice the ways in which Sukuna tempts you into wanting to go. Though there's nothing, truly, that could make the experience a pleasant one - it's posed to appeal to you. A place to remind you of your childhood. You try not to think about it.)

Despite your protests, despite your vehement frustration - there was nothing you could do but go. If you didn't go with Sukuna, it'd be enduring 3 months alone with your grandparents. You could try to crash with friends but the friends you've made so far wouldn't dream of being so polite and you dare not think of burdening your childhood friends with your family problems. They deal with enough as is.

The last option was running away. You're desperate enough to entertain it. You do, several times - considering what the worst outcome could be. All scenarios end with Sukuna coming to find you, because he's crazy and connected like that. Even if he's deliberate in not displaying those parts of himself, you know his apathy to be a facade.

You know him well. He knows you well. It feels like a competition to see who can outsmart the other that you were forced into with no say.

So, come the end of your third year of college - a driver picks you up right as your finals are finished to take you to the airport. A private jet, a nauseating display of wealth just for your uncle to torment you with you're sure.

On the plane ride to a small island on the coast of Japan, you think to yourself that all gods in the world must've abandoned you before you were ever born.

__

The first few weeks of your stay in the island of Nii-jima prove to be uneventful.

For a small island, it's still governed through something related to Tokyo. It's not the city or even the country, some quiet and relaxing in between. There are people here who've lived for generations and others who are only touring. Your uncle's villa though, is far from all life - and a few miles out from a beach.

You can hardly understand what a single man needs such a big house for. There's staff there too, though less than at your grandparents place which you're grateful for. You've met six of eight, two of them people who take care of the yards and garden.

Sato-san is the woman you see most often. The one cook Sukuna has and the woman who's been working longest. She is kindhearted and sturdy, often bringing her grandchildren with her. She's quiet and motherly - and so warm you're unsure of how to behave around her. Your uncle is seemingly fond of her which is saying a lot. She speaks highly of him. 

It's been so long since you've experienced something like maternal warmth, you're awkward around her. You try to not be too attached, try not to be fond of anything in this house because you know something horrible and dormant lies within it and you do not want to stay. Don't even want to entertain the idea of staying.

But Sato-san is good to you, with wrinkles and sunspots and a bright laugh. Her grandchildren are so well-behaved you wonder about how they were raised. A girl about seven and a boy about four, always quiet and inattentive. You've grown fond of them too, despite how bad you normally are with children. They're easy to be around.

You're frustrated mainly because you don't hate being here. The people are kind and welcoming and everyone locally is pleasant and good. You've been in the city too long, with insane people too long, and everything feels refreshing. The bus here is free and you can be at the beach whenever you like. You've made friends here - organically, with no strings attached. .

For the first time in your twenty years of living, you even have a guy you think is cute. It seems small, but back home everyone knows who you are. You've never had a relationship work out for one reason or another, but here? Here no one knows you, and the boy you meet at the beach with his friends is just a boy.

You don't want to like being here, but you do - and you don't want Sukuna to come back and he will. Nothing ever works out for you.

The worst of your luck you think builds on the edge of that thought.

You come home tonight doing a lot of things you would not normally. 

For one, you've gotten yourself drunk. The reason being the cute boy aforementioned invited you down to the beach with his friend. You justified going thinking if you were going to be miserable all summer - a single good memory wouldn't kill you.

You had fun. Your swimsuit is underneath your short skimpy clothes, and you sat in his lap and made-out with him all evening. Got to pretend you were a normal girl and you got to kiss for the first time. You still reek of alcohol and his cheap cologne. Blissfully uneventful. 

When you stumble into the foyer of the house with blurry vision and hear the T.V. playing, you know it instinctively that peace is going to be short-lived. You know that your uncle is home, and that he was waiting for you.

All the hairs on your neck raise. A shift in the atmosphere makes it hard to think clearly. Your lungs barely get enough oxygen in them to keep you upright. You think of leaving. You think of running up marble stairs to your room in hopes he won't catch you.

"Brat," Is yelled from the living room. Right, as if you'd ever get so lucky. You jump in your skin. "You home?"

Your stomach churns. You feel sick.

"Come to the living room."

You go obediently when Sukuna calls you, trying not to stumble over your two feet.You don’t think there’s more options than fearful compliance. 

Your uncle is watching Scarface on the big flatscreen on the TV. The subtitles are on in Japanese though you don't think he needs them. He only barely turns his head to look at you, his interest piqued when he sees what you're wearing.

You feel sixteen again, self-conscious of your body and womanhood. He hides it even less than he did the first time - the leering. He notices your skimpy shorts and top, the bottom of your bikini. And he grins, and stares but doesn't say anything.

"Oh?" He says, calm and casual, glancing back at the T.V. "Finally went and had some fun did you? Thought all that studying turned you into a bookish little shut-in permanently."

You don't say anything, arm clutching your other self-consciously.

"Did you need something?"

He snickers, low and predatory. "Come on. You're here to spend time with me so let's spend time together."

You don’t bother asking where he’s been for the last few weeks.  Your gut churns, feet heavy as they drag you to the far end of the couch. Sukuna stares as you sit hesitantly. You have no doubt he's going to make you move, but he's kind enough to leave you alone for now.

"Have fun on your..." He gives you another knowing look then laughs. "Outing?"

You aren't sure how to respond. "Just drank with some friends."

"Friends," He mimics, feeling the words out in his mouth. "The kind of friends that smudge the lipstick off your mouth, huh brat?"

You flush suddenly, embarrassed - and Sukuna barks a laugh. You don't know what he's expecting you to say there so you opt for nothing.

"Sorry," Is the only thing you can manage. Placating. He lets out a puff of air through his nose and relaxes further. There's an air to him, of nonchalance, that unsettles you more than if he was angry or unpleasant. Your throat bobs.

"You're a big girl now," He comments - sleazy and indignant. His indecency towards you, about you glints like a star. A sharp canine and piercing red eyes examine you from his peripherals. "Now that you're showing off it's only natural boys flock to you, hm?"

You can't explain the way this comment makes you feel. So much said with so little. The gap between is and has always been miles wide except sometimes it's not. Your uncle is unusual. Cold-blooded, manipulative, ruthless. There's no warmth in him in a comfortable, loving way. 

There's even less of a normal relationship between you.

But you both exist in this space with... similar awareness. Of the world. Of yourselves. There's a conscious intelligence to him that's reflected in you - that you are both fractured parts of your grandparents bloodline in two separate bodies. That self-awareness affords him a presence. In your mind. In your fear.

You are undoubtedly related. Sukuna revels in that.

It’s rare to see that kind of awareness in your family. You’ve never felt threatened by people dumber than you, even if they had more power or money. Vapid and shallow and useless - there’d never been anything that could win you on. It might sound cocky, but it’s true. It’s been true. 

It’s why Sukuna frightens you. He has everything, but above all - he’s smart. And hard for you to read. 

You swallow, shakily - your eyes looking down at your hands. In a profoundly long beat of silence, the movie plays. A fair bit of gunshots echo through the loud speaker and they startle you.

"You scared? Come sit closer, then." He tells you, less than asks you.

You stand and sit next to him, still a distance away. Sukuna remains unmoving. You don't know what to do with yourself.The silence seems to stretch for miles and minutes. Sukuna just watches the T.V. and stares at his phone - occasionally answering messages. You stay like that for a long time. 

"Need a smoke," He says, and it's not really directed at you. "Maybe later. Wouldn't wanna make you sick."

"People smoke around me all the time."

"Do you smoke?"

You shake your head, too tipsy to lie. He laughs at that. "Not even weed?"

You don't bother mentioning legality, you both know it doesn't matter between your lineage.

"Don't like the taste."

"How interesting. What a straight-edge kid. Most I've seen you get is drunk and this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. Still sober enough to talk clearly though."

"I just drink socially,"

"Ohh," He says, and then grins a little sharper. "A little shot of courage to fuck that little college boy then?"

This makes you jolt. "We didn't fuck—"

"No?" He looks genuinely surprised at this, though it's mild. "Poor kid must've wanted too if you came around him wearing that. Unless he came in his pants soon as you sat on him. Boys that age do stuff like that,"

The comment about his age reminds you of how old your uncle really is, and something in your chest flares hot.

"It wasn't that either—I've never-"

He cuts you off. "You're a virgin?"

You flush, stopping yourself from answering and he laughs.

"Ohhh, that's good. Very good," He grins, so genuinely pleased it makes you shiver. "I like virgins. Easy to please."

"That's—It wasn't for you."

For the first time in your relationship, Sukuna bridges the gap between you. He sits up and forward, his hand finding the bare skin of your knee. He rests it there, his thumb circling the flesh.

"Don't touch me," You hiss. Sukuna tightens his grip, but not threateningly. He turns to look at you that time, and you can't help but look back.

There's something in his degeneracy that horrifies you. It's fondness, you think. Genuine fondness.

"You sure?" He licks his teeth in a way that reminds you of a wolf. But not one that's starving. There's no desperation in his actions, but a self-assurance. Wolves don't often survive alone, but Sukuna has. And he hungers with the confidence of a predator who has killed all that stand before him. That's never been told no to what he wants to eat.

Your heart stops. Your voice a low whisper. "Stop,"

"You say that but you came in the house looking all desperate for sex and approval. You always look like that. Have for a little longer than what's normal for a girl your age,"

"I don't look like that!"

"You would've fucked that little college twerp if you stayed wouldn't you? Nothing wrong with honesty, brat."

Before you have a chance to understand what goes on around you, Sukuna changes position. You've never gotten a chance to feel and experience how strong he is - not like the way he's manhandling you now. You gasp at the arm around your waist and back. He pins you to the couch in a swift motion, not sure how he's done it, the alcohol making you dizzy.

Sukuna has never crossed the boundary with you like this before. Your heart is thumping loud, beating against your ribs. The source of it eludes you. If it's fear or discomfort or some other thing entirely causing such noice. 

There's a certain blase in his attitude that makes you forget momentarily about the taboo and gives way just to the tension between you. You feel it for the first time with his body pressed against you, all hot and heavy. He smells of cologne, but it lacks the acidity cheap ones tend to have. There’s strong hints of cigarettes and aftershave accompanying it. Appearance wise, he has lines in his face like a man in his forties. 

You don't know what's wrong with you. With a relationship so fucked up from the start, you thought crossing this line would feel different. You think you want to throw up, but you're completely calm. 

You want to be disgusted. You want to thrash and kick and scream and fight. You squirm away from him, the threads of what's left of your moral conscience urging you to do so. Like a last ditch effort to keep you sane. 

But there's just. Something. Something so inevitable about it that your heart doesn't beat at all. The panic itself feels hollow in nature. You are a rotted log and Sukuna has ripped the soft wood out of you with relative ease. But you’ve been that way for a long time, and nothing hurts. Not really.  

It's relieving in the worst way. 

"Get away from me,” You whisper again with noticeably less fight. Sukuna looks at you bright-eyed.

"You're a good kid," He says. The genuine praise knocks the air out of your lungs. That disgusts you more than anything else happening between you so far. "Interesting. A lot brighter than the other kids in our family."

Our family. You wince. .

"Stop, this is—" You don't know what word to use. He's your uncle and you're his niece and he's been gazing at you like this for god knows how fucking long. "Stop."

"You've got something going on behind your eyes at least, even if you're still just a wet-nosed and angry little housecat," He says, staring down at you. He's so imposing. His facial hair and his various tattoos. Everything about him, down to his bones. "But I can't tear my eyes away from you at the same time. You know that?."

You do know that. You cast your gaze away.

"I applaud how cautious you've been. But it didn't make a difference in the end. You know that too, right?"

You don't say anything.

"Clever little lamb you are, indeed. I like that about you." He hums, leaning down closer to you. His face is inches from yours. "You should be smart enough to know how this ends. But you know, you've been so entertaining to me this whole time I feel like I should at least be a little nice. So I'll offer you something. A deal of sorts, we can even write it on paper."

This catches your interest and he knows it does. He knows. You’re cut from the same cloth. And this place has made you lose your character, just like it always does. So if it means your survival and sanity or your morals, one comes before the other.

He grins at you.

"Come stay with me. Here in Nii-jima and back at my estate at home. I'll take care of your expenses and whatever else. I have better connections than the old hag," He says, leaning down even closer to you. You can smell him. He's intoxicating "You can be away from everything. I'll even let you have boyfriends and girlfriends over. You can throw sleepovers. I don't care. You can do whatever you want."

"What's in it for you?"

You can feel his knee press up against your cunt through your shorts and you gasp, hand going up to his shoulder. "This. Been thinking about this tight little cunt for a while now. You'd have to be at my beck and call. We'd be the closest uncle and niece in all of Japan," He snickers.

You wince at the reminder. You hate yourself for considering it. "Why me? There are plenty of women who are dying to fuck you."

He scoffs a little. 

"Once we get you a little farther from the trenches kid, you might start to understand me. Wealth, fortune, fame - all of it's fucking boring. I came back to Japan prepared to leave again but you made me stay. Not much more to it than that."

"You're fucking your blood-niece out of curiosity? Your sister's daughter?"

"My sister never did anything good with her life except marrying your father and making you." Sukuna says, and laughs lightly. You hate how validated it makes you feel. Your skin crawls. "I'll have to thank her for it. She'll be pleased.

You make a face at him, uncertainty. Apprehension. Fear. Frustration. Everything you’ve been compartmentalizing comes bubbling to the surface and making your head feel weighted with lead. You want to kill everyone and everything including him. You want to run away from this place. You want to go home, though you don’t know where that would be anymore. They demolished your old apartment years ago. 

You think spending a few years getting fucked and used might be less miserable than the suffocation of living with your mother and your baby brother and your grandparents. How much abuse you’ve endured already vs. what awaits you when their true heir starts to walk and talk horrifies you. 

You look at him. 

“You’re horrible.” 

“Tell me something new.” 

“I hate you. I don’t…want this. Any of this. I want to go home.” 

You’re just venting. Really. You’ve made the choice already. 

“Has there ever been a time where it’s been about what you want? I doubt it. But if you stay with me, appease my wishes for a while, well,” He laughs confidently. “You’ll get something, at least. Better than what you have.” 

“The contract. Are you serious about that?” 

He laughs at you. “Sure. If it makes you feel better, you can draft it and I’ll just have my lawyer sign. Bring your defenses. Whatever. Don’t really care as long as I get what I want.” 

“And that’s me?” 

“Seems like it,” 

You purse your lips. It seems like a rash decision to make in the moment, but truthfully your heads never felt so clear. Even with the alcohol. 

“...Fine.” 

Sukuna hums when you agree. It feels anti-climatic somehow. Not that he’s not expecting your yes but that you’ve come to accept it so easily. It’s not like this takes away from the coercion, from the awful feeling of being violated. Sukuna was going to rape you whether you liked it or not. This way, at least, you get something out of it. This way it’s something you choose. Something tangible results from your inevitable doom - the fate your mother damned you to. 

It affords you some plausible deniability too. In truth, you’re afraid for yourself. You’re afraid of what will happen when he finally does cross the line completely. You’re afraid you’re going to accept it, that it’s going to feel pleasurable, that years of repressing yourself will come back to make sure you never return to normalcy. 

What will become of you when Sukuna has his way with you? Will you become a more apathetic version of yourself? Is it possible? Will you sober and feel like scrubbing your skin clean in the shower? 

The worst outcome, you think, is nothing so horrible happening. The worst outcome is knowing you’ve fallen far enough for none of it matters at all. 

Sukuna grins down at you. “What a well-behaved niece I have. Good girl. You’ll do well living with me.” 

You make a displeased face at him, but your breath catches in your lungs soon after. Your uncle leans in to kiss you and you close your eyes trying to get away from it. But it’s true that your body has been burning up from the inside since you came back home - a dull throbbing between your legs turning you all kinds of stupid. 

When Sukuna kisses you - your first thought is that he’s unexpectedly gentle. 

You didn’t think he’d care about kissing to begin with. In your head you thought he’d tug off your shorts brutishly and fuck you without any prep. You were readying yourself for tears and pain, for screaming and crying - the sharp sobs of your own voice piercing your ears. 

A gentle press of lips startles you from your drunk haze. You can feel the scruff of Sukuna’s face on your own, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. The taste of cigarettes and something else mildly smokey fill your mouth and make you dizzy. Sukuna tastes like kissing a man - or what you might’ve imagined that to be like. Not a boy, but a man. You feel his strength, your hands splaying at the base of his neck and feeling the faded undercut of his neck, the texture of his dyed hair. His weight shadows you, his strength making you feel fluttery. 

He doesn’t tease you all during the kiss like you’re expecting. Nothing goes the way you expect. He kisses you in slow, short pecks and escalates to his tongue dipping against your lips - a little added element to his deep kisses. He kisses like he’s been doing it for longer than you have, with experience and finesse. You’re all but too conscious of everything little thing. About the sounds you make, about knowing when to breathe, about trying not to get wrapped up in the pleasant euphoria. 

All you can think about is how good he is at it. Effortlessly good. You think part of you latches onto it to avoid thinking about what’s happening. Denial feels pleasurable at least. 

You kiss like that for so long, your lips have swollen - sticky with spit and saliva. Sukuna has a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he pulls away from you, laughing at the flush in your expression. 

You hit him lightly, looking away from his face. 

“It’s a wonder you’ve kept your virginity,” He says, chuckling. “A kiss and a dirty old man like me could’ve taken it from you.” 

“Shut up,” Your reply is weak. He laughs against your mouth, and you can’t get over the intimacy of it. You hope you’re deluding yourself but then he kisses the corner of your mouth. Hot, warm air tickles against your jaw and neck when he presses his lips there too and suddenly it occurs to you how real it is. 

You don’t think your uncle is capable of warmth or love or anything that doesn’t come from coercion. But fondness. Maybe fondness. 

He spends more time doing that than what’s comfortable. Relishes the feeling of you in his arms, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt but not forcefully. Just with enough pressure to make you gasp once in a while when you don’t have a mind to fight it. 

“I won’t take your virginity tonight,” He says declaratively. It surprises you. “You’ve got three months with me. It’d be boring. I’ll give you something else.” He looks at you then, then grins impishly. “What do you want?” 

Your eyes widen, suddenly unsure of yourself. You push away, brought back to reality by the questions. 

“How would I know?” 

He blinks at you. “I know you said you were a virgin, but did you really mean in everything?” 

You pout at him all of a sudden. “So what. I didn’t have that kind of time.” 

Sukuna barks a laugh. 

“Huh. I thought you were a goody two-shoes out of necessity but you really don’t do a damn thing in that house. Not even a boyfriend to do hand stuff with?” 

“Ugh. No, alright? I don’t have time for that kind of thing like I just said.” 

He laughs a little breathless, sitting up for a minute. You’re wondering what it means for you. Sukuna pulls you up along with him. He sits down again with his legs spread before looking at you. He pulls you into his lap with relative ease, until you’re half-way pressed into him with your legs over his thighs. You stare at him, feeling more exposed in this position. You get a closer view of his neck tattoo, realizing how far down his back it must go. You go to ask him what he’s doing - but he’s undressing you before you can. 

Confident, large hands trapeze down your back as he finds the end of your overwear and pulls it off - leaving you in the microkini you wore to the beach. It barely covers your nipples. You made the choice to wear it, yet seeing Sukuna examine it so closely leaves you wallowing and regretful. Still, he’s silent as he does something similar with your jean-shorts. A hand lifting your legs up enough to roll the cheap, denim shorts and discard them right on the marble floors. 

You’re still half-way over his lap - sitting on his thighs but you’re naked now.

You feel yourself growing self-conscious. Never mind that it’s the first time anyone’s seen you this naked, who exactly you’re showing it to makes you want to throw up. He stares for so long you wonder what he’s thinking, a lazy grin splitting his face. A hand nudges your thighs apart, moving your leg to give Sukuna more access to you. With an arm around your waist, his hand cups your cunt, rubbing it softly. You shift nervously. His thumb moves then, rests at the hood of your clit, pulling up to look closer at it. You hold back any noise as he examines you, bent pointer of the opposite hand brushing over the hair on your skin with a laugh. 

“Unexpectedly, it’s pretty,” He says and your eyes shoot wide open. “Good job brat.” 

“What are you,” You pant, your breath hitching as you close your eyes.”staring so much for it?” 

“It’s mine to stare at.”

You don’t think of your uncle as particularly possessive. It’s more like he believes in that so much, so unshakingly nothing else could be true. You wonder if there’s more to it. He didn’t seem angry even after you told him about seeing a boy. 

But comparing the two, Sukuna outclasses him in all ways that it should matter. He must be confident about that. 

He spreads your thighs a little further. You’re half tucked into his side now - an arm around the back of his neck and shoulders. Sukuna ducks down a little, nudging his nose against your neck and scraping his teeth lightly against your throat. He doesn’t do much other than… touch you. Not directly. His other hand, the one not secured around your waist, rubs at your pussy but not in an attempt to pleasure you. It’s exploratory and intimate. He’s just touching you in a way that’s making you restless. And the angle he’s bent down, the proximity gives you a better view of him. From the side where you sit in his lap, you can see the tattoo again. 

You shudder then, pussy suddenly clenching in a way that leaves you ashamed. Your uncle notices, though he doesn’t look up. 

“Thought of something, brat?” 

“No.” You deny, vehemently. He spanks your pussy but not hard. You jolt in reply, a shock traveling up your spine. 

“C’mon now,” He hums, predatory. “Don’t lie. That’s not fun.” 

“Y-your tattoo,” You say, suddenly feeling the influence of alcohol in a way you hadn’t all evening. “It’s…big.”

“Into bad boys or something, kid?” 

You frown. “You look like a yakuza.” 

This makes him laugh, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen him laugh. “Getting warmer, I guess.” 

You don’t say anything to that. Instead spurred by the sudden confidence. “Why aren’t you…touching me?” 

He looks at you surprised then tilts his head. “Is that what you want? 

“I don’t want any of this but it,” You squirm again. “Feels weird.”

“Sounds like you want something, at least. Go on, tell your oji-san what you want.” 

You scrunch your nose up at him, a familiar feeling of disgusting flitting through you. It fades as quickly as it comes.

“I’ve never put a-anything inside,” You admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“That so,” He hums. His middle finger slides down the wet seam of your cunt as you tell him this. You nod but you don’t think he’s really listening. His hand is warm, and big - and his fingers are thicker than yours. One of yours may as well make two of his, no end to how imposing he is. You don’t protest as he starts to touch you. You simply take a deep breath, holding onto him a little tighter. 

With your head turned towards him, Sukuna leans in again to kiss you. It’s deep from the beginning this time, and a little rougher. He bites lightly on your lower lips as his middle finger dips down towards your sex. Your insides are throbbing, hot and wet as you feel some friction. It’s the first time anyone else has ever held you in your life, every touched you directly like this. Against your will, your body is sensitive to the stimulus. Everywhere he touches you goes alight, and the kiss makes your tummy flutter. A tender feeling of want spreads you open, tears you apart right in front of him. 

With parted lips and a heavy head, you kiss him as his middle finger dips down low enough to penetrate you. A soft gasp pulls from your throat. 

It doesn’t feel unpleasant.

“I thought it was going to hurt more.” You admit, feeling him inside of you. It’s a new sensation but it’s not bad. 

“It shouldn’t hurt if you’re aroused enough. And wet enough. You seem to be both.” 

You frown at him, face pinching. It’s washed away quickly by the sensation of him pushing deeper. It’s hard to describe it as anything other than feeling something inside of you. Deep in a place you didn’t think it could go. You shake a little, trying to get adjusted. Sukuna does it carefully, slowly - thrusting in even strokes and keeping you focused on kissing so you’re not too conscious of it. 

He’s not thoughtful, not really - but you can tell that he’s going slower for your sake and that makes your heart stammer uncomfortably. The last word you’d ever use for him is kind but he’s not being horrible and it’s unsettling you. 

Once one finger goes in and out smoothly, your uncle starts to add another. You feel it that time, the stretch of it - gasping hard at the sudden sensation. Your breath catches in your lungs, hand clutching at his shoulder for purchase. He pulls away from your mouth, his breath near your ear. 

“Easy, little one. Give it a minute.” 

“It feels different. It’s,” You can’t form the words as two fingers penetrate you in full, slowly being eased inside of you until Sukuna is knuckle deep. Your breath hitches. “Not like it hurts.” 

“It’ll feel good in a second.” He says assuredly, voice smooth and raspy against your ear. You feel combative at his confidence, but then a minute passes of him rubbing along your insides and something strikes against you like lightning. You pause, blinking confused as Sukuna laughs. “There it is,” 

“There what is?” 

“C’mon kid, I know you’re too busy with school but you don’t know something so basic about your own body?” 

“What is it, oh.” 

His other hand toys with your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions as he gauges your reaction to the touch. You jolt from the sudden pleasure, getting used to it slowly. You didn’t realize how badly it was throbbing to be touched until he does it in full. Your mouth dries up immediately. Little shocks of electricity spark up through you as his hands go full in on your body. The combined pleasure starts to uptick, something building slowly but surely. It goes from not feeling like much to feeling like something. Feeling physical. 

Your mouth drops open in sudden shock, eyes lidded as you moan unabashedly - unable to keep the sound at bay. You own a vibrator, use to cum quick and hard just to curb the feeling. You’ve had orgasms on your own but nothing has ever felt like this before. It’s undeniably satiating, mimics the feeling of eating something and nearly making yourself sick on it. You go slack-jawed, your nerves on fire. 

Two fingers curled against your silken walls and another two toying at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs leaves little room in your brain to think. The only thing your body seems to remember is how to moan and whine - make these pathetic little noises you’ve never heard in your life. You didn’t even know you could make. Oddly enough, Sukuna is quiet through it. He makes grunts and little affirmatives but he’s mostly silent. You mostly hear the sound of your own voice. 

The sound of your own wetness. You can feel the sticky sensation of your arousal but you can hear it even better. It’s lewd to listen too, wet smacks mixing with the pathetic bleats of your voice make you feel hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and sensation. 

“I knew you were sensitive but haah. If I would’ve fucked you today, you would have cried.” 

The thought drifts idly by about his cock and your whole lower half reacts to it by going weak. It aches just thinking about anything bigger or longer entering you than his fingers. 

“Figure an insolent little kid like you isn’t much of a crybaby. I’m sure I can make you one.” 

You don’t even think about asking what he means. 

“Feels,” You make a gasping noise, body suddenly going tense. “Hngh, fuck. Feels so good, holy fuck.” 

He groans a little. “I’m being too nice to you. I really should be balls deep in your cunt already and I’m not. You gonna cum for me, huh brat?” 

You nod your head dumbly, unable to retort. To think of anything but the sensation washing over you.”Go on. Do it. Cum for your perverted oji-san.”  

Something about the depravity of it sets your mind numb. Your body goes tight, every nerve firing off at once as you grip onto his shoulder and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you. Your whole body is so stimulated it’s numbing. The feeling of pleasure crashes into you, leaves your spine arching - mouth dropped open and nearly screaming. Your sanity melts, fades off completely and your brain feels like it’s gone empty. You close your eyes so hard little splashes of white show up in your vision, like you’re seeing T.V. static. 

You think you scream. You don’t know. You just know that you’re cumming, hard, just from his hands and you’re terrified of what else he’s good at. You don’t think it boils down to sensitivity as the waves of your first orgasm ripple through your body. 

You lay in his arms, sweaty and limp. Your vision is blurry with tears as you open them to look at him. Sukuna is rubbing your side, taking his fingers into his mouth. You look at him surprised as he does. He grins. 

“Tastes good, kid.”

You flush. “Shut up.” 

“Don’t think I’m done with you quite yet.”

Sukuna guides your hand to his pants, over his bulge. You gasp a little at it. His size through clothes is astounding to you. 

“I’m not so generous to leave with nothing, you know.” He pats your thigh, moving you from his lap. “I’ve got a better idea than trying to teach you anything today, so try to hold still.” 

You don’t know what he’s talking about until he guides you on the floor. You’re confused until you feel him position you  - facing towards the couch with your knees spread on the floor. In doggy, you realize a little too late, your upper-half supported by the couch cushion. You feel more confused than you felt a moment ago. 

Sukuna positions himself behind you. You can’t see him, but you can hear the soft rustle of his clothes moving as he stands on his knees behind you. More than that, you can feel his cock resting on your bare ass. You gasp, feeling the weight and size slide against your curves. Sukuna does a breathy little laugh at your reaction. He’s huge. 

“Don’t cry kid. I told you I wasn’t gonna put it in tonight and I meant that,” He hums. His hands come to your hips, all of a sudden pushing them together. “Push your thighs together as tight as you can.” 

You listen to him. You can do it with some effort despite how weak your body feels. You lean forward on the couch for support, bringing your knees together and pressing your thighs. You don’t understand what it’s for until something hard pressing along your spine moves down the curve of your ass. You gasp aloud as his thick cock pushes between your thighs, tip catching against your swollen clit. Your whole body is covered in goosebumps. Sukuna moans low in his throat, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” He hums, sounding pleased. “Keep them tight for me, alright girl? Try to at least.” 

Sukuna is wordless as he grips your hips, your flesh dimpling under his bruising grip. You're silent, your voice threatening to spill again as you try your best to listen to him. You keep yourself tight and firm, your hands gripping the couch cushions as Sukuna pushes his cock between the fat of your thighs and starts a pace.

The angle makes you gasp, body feeling weak at the way it touches your clit with each bump. Sukuna doesn’t hold back at all. You’re not being penetrated but the weight behind each of his thrusts makes you feel like you’re being fucked. The bruising sensation of skin against skin - the hard muscles of his own legs smacking against the softness of your thighs. 

Most embarrassing is the way the position makes you conscious of your uncle's cock. You knew he was huge before, but the way he’s thrusting. Where it reaches when he does thrust makes your throat feel nearly tight. You can’t stop thinking about the fact it’ll be inside you. You can’t imagine taking it in your hands - the girth and length of it fucking impossible. And he wants to fuck you with it? Take your virginity? 

He’ll stretch you so open if he does. You can barely think of it fitting in you. When you do, your whole body shudders in a horrible and pathetic way - a new wave of arousal striking a strange chord. As he bumps and ruts against your clit and your mind fills with such lewd images, a new wave of lust starts to pour through you. 

It’s unhelped by the feeling of Sukuna’s cock - getting so close. The throbbing with each thrust and the low, throaty groans he keeps vocalizing against your ear. All of it proves to be too much for you. It shocks you when you feel yourself grow hot all over again. Not even being touched directly and so soon after your first - a mere few minutes. 

And you find yourself with all your muscles tight, your hand reaching back for Sukuna as you plant your face against the cushions and let him fuck hard between your thighs. You feel incoherent, stupid and so fucking horny. You’ve never experienced it. You can’t think of what to moan, so you choose his name. 

This makes him laugh as he bends over you, his teeth biting your shoulder blades. 

“Gonna cum again from this brat? Aren’t you fucking easy? Come on, cum with me. Just like that, take it. Fuck, that’s it. Good. Good girl.” 

It’s the last bit of tension that pushes you over the edge, whether you care to admit it. Your voice breaks as a second orgasm washes through you - more intense but much shorter than the first and you nearly fall limp. You only barely manage to hold yourself up as your uncle keeps thrusting relentlessly. 

You can feel him twitch hard between your thighs when his orgasm finally hits. You shake as you feel him squish the tip between your thighs - hot ropes of cum spurting against the swollen mound of your cunt and dripping down your thighs as he finishes. He smacks your ass as he finishes, making you yelp. Your whole body is rife with exhaustion, finally coming down from high-highs and low-lows. 

“We’re gonna have a lot of fun together for the next few months kid,” He says, almost affection in his words. You’re too exhausted to reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Let’s get along and do our best.” 

“You’re a sick-fuck, oji-san.” 

“And you’re a whole lot like me, aren’t you kid?.” 

[bones4thecats]

Basic Headcanons Of Life With Their S/O

Type of Writing: #8 - Poll Result Characters: Kazutora Hanemiya, Keisuke Baji, Haruchiyo Sanzu, and Tetta Kisaki Name: Basic Headcanons Of Life With Their S/O Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: This isn't my best piece, but I do hope you guys at least kinda like it!

P.S: Kazutora's has slight spoilers for the manga, along with Sanzu's. Btw, these are mainly set in a world where it goes normal, but they're a hint more sane Sanzu and Kisaki

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🐯 Kazutora has major psychological issues, so, when he first got out of Juvenile Detention, you kept your distance from him, knowing if he ever got a hand on you, it wouldn't be the best

🐯 But, you were there for him while he went through his second sentence of Juvie, this one being for the death of Baji

🐯 You went alongside Draken and Takemichi when Kazutora was being held up, and you smiled and nodded to him as he cried. You knew he was trying to express himself and get better now, he couldn't, no, he wouldn't risk losing another person dear to him

🐯 Throughout the ten years he was placed in that building and speaking to professionals, he always awaited your weekly to daily visits

🐯 At the time he was released, you were living in a shared apartment with Chifuyu, who had asked if you were okay with Kazutora coming to stay with you guys for a while

🐯 Of course, you agreed and went with him to pick the now young man from his home of 10 years, and your close friend could tell that you were giddy about seeing your still-in-contact boyfriend

🐯 Kazutora just waited to see Chifuyu's vehicle, and he was quite happy when he saw his old friend, and, when he did see you come outside the opposite side, his eyes swelled up with tears. You actually came!

🐯 You and Chifuyu owned the Pet Store together, and you both welcomed Kazutora with open arms. He was like family after all, and it would be what Baji wanted

🐯 He and you began to grow just as close as you were back in his very youthful days, before the bike store incident and whatnot

🐯 Eventually, Chifuyu began to tease you guys that you treated the animals in the store as your own children. And while that did fluster Kazutora, he couldn't help but wonder; would you be alright with kids? Like when you guys finally settle together?

🐯 And now your chasing Chifuyu with a pissed off cat- oh shit the cat just lunged at him! Y/N!

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⚖️ Baji and you were childhood admirers. And by far this guy was super nervous whenever you even looked at him

⚖️ He loves to bring you around the city on his bike, especially after fights, he does like to flaunt off what he's got all to himself, after all, nobody can be duplicated, and he has the best S/O ever!

⚖️ Baji also adores to mess with you, probably not as much as a certain someone Mikey, but he does love messing with you. From grazing your arm while passing one another to messing your hair up, this guy loves to do it

⚖️ He is also very protective of you, and when I say someone is protective, I mean it

⚖️ Once time for example;

⚖️ You had been spending a lot of time alongside these guys from Toman, and they were brand-new members of the first division. And while he normally is happy to watch you get all giddy around people, he knew there was something up

⚖️ The thing that put it out like a sore thumb was when he was over at your house and he heard your phone ringing, making you groan and ask him to answer it

⚖️ Baji picked up the landline and just casually laid out who's house it was and if the person wanted to leave a message for either you or your family

⚖️ His eyes widened when he heard two chuckles on the other side of the line before hearing the most crude and revolting comments about you, and that was making him BEYOND pissed

⚖️ You were shocked to walk into your main room to see Baji yelling at the people on the other line, saying how disgusting they were and how they were surely going to be punished for such an action attempted on his S/O

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🎭 Sanzu and you had a difficult bond to decipher, so it shocks everyone when they see him walk up behind you and nuzzle into your neck

🎭 He, much like many of the Tokyo Revengers characters, is a very protective person. But he has a whole nother reason for being so protective of you, that being he didn't want you being hurt the same way that he has seen some others be

🎭 For some reason, I can see him being someone obsessed with crime shows and news, so in tole, I can see him watching those shows about people catching pedos (Undercover Underage for example)

🎭 Anyways, being with Sanzu is a roller coaster, especially when it comes to future him

🎭 He has gone through many problems throughout his life, from getting those scars on his mouth to dealing with substance abuse, this guy needs support like no other

🎭 And you were the perfect person to help him there

🎭 You, unlike many, did not just stand by and watch him get worse, instead, you jumped in and began to try helping your dearest with his problems, starting with his personal image of himself

🎭 Despite how many view him, Sanzu does have some issues with how he sees himself. He has a strained relationship with both his sister and brother, yet he somehow has an amazing one with you... how does that make any sense?

🎭 It doesn't. That is until you prompted the duo to actually speak to him about it, it was this action that prompted them to actually grow closer as a family, to be a real family again

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

👓 Kisaki always had an eye for one person, Hina... that was, until you came into the picture

👓 You were always there for the male. Helping him calm down when his emotions finally cascaded around him, wrapping him in a web of overthinking

👓 But, every time you actually tried getting to know him, he would push you away. Until you assisted him in creating a plan to gain Hina's attention and break her and Takemichi away

👓 You could tell he was starting to have a mental break, and you weren't just going to stand aside knowing that you could've done something to help your friend. Even if this upset Hanma, it would be worth it

👓 Kisaki was raking his hands through his blonde hair, gritting his teeth while rubbing his temples, throwing his hands in a vicious cycle of brushing, gritting, and rubbing and repeat

👓 Walking behind him, you reached out and laid a cup of his favorite beverage on the table of your home's before lightly touching his shoulder, making him look at you in shock

👓 You smiled gently as he looked in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his midsection. He couldn't believe it, you were hugging him! Didn't you think he was crazy for being so motivated to break such a happy couple up?

👓 Ever since that day, Kisaki and you somehow seemed closer than ever, closer than Hina and Takemichi seemed to be

👓 Speaking of the infamous time-traveler, he was shocked. This hadn't happened in any different timelines he traveled through. In all of them, Kisaki went mental and killed you. For what reason? He only had two hunches; you knew too much or he didn't want you to see him do anything worse...

👓 But, despite the shock, he'd have to admit, this was exactly what he wanted to happen. He always saw you guys as such a nice duo, it was nice to not worry about what Kisaki would do for once

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GRIM REAPER! LEE KNOW, HUMAN! READER, DEATH, ACCIDENTAL OD, MENTION OF DRUG USE, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, MENTION OF S*ICIDE, HOSPITALS, INJURY, UNESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, PRAISE, FINGERING, HAND JOB, UNPROTECTED SEX, BEGGING, PET NAMES (PRETTY KITTY, KITTEN, BABY), CREAMPIE, ANGST ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n didn’t believe in an afterlife. Not until she got pulled from it. The bright light of the hospital blinded her eyes as she blinked. No one else was in the room. 

     Well, except for the guy in all black in the corner. She blinked again to adjust to the light and he was gone. She was a bit confused but concluded it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Especially when a nurse walked in.

     “Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. L/n,” The nurse smiled as she grabbed her file and walked over to the monitor next to her.

     “How long was I out for?” 

     “Not long. Your friends neighbor works at the hospital and called us as soon as they came knocking. Gave you a bit of Narcan but you crashed just as the paramedics got there so they had to restart your heart. You’ve been stable since you got to the hospital about an hour ago. I’ll let the doctors know you're awake.”

     The nurse walked out of the room and Y/n groaned, trying to move her arms. Handcuffed. 

     She had a friend that knew people. They got some harder drugs one night. It was all fun. Music blared through the apartment. She remembered taking some and then closing her eyes. Between that and the hospital, she had no fucking clue.

     The handcuffs were confusing. Did they think it was on purpose? That she actually tried offing herself through drugs?

     “Ms. L/n, how are you?” the doctor’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 

     “Tired,” Y/n shrugged

     “So am I,” the doctor pulled up a chair next to the bed, “Can I ask a couple of questions about the other night?”

     “I can’t guarantee I’ll remember much.”

     “That’s okay. Whatever you can remember,” the doctor answered, “Did you bring the drugs?”

     “No. I wouldn’t even know how to find a dealer. My friend knows people.”

     “Was this your first time using?”

     “Yes.”

     “I noticed in your file that you have a history of depression. Have you ever thought about—”

     “My depression is managed. Maybe once or twice a year I get a fleeting thought of ending it. But never have I thoroughly thought I would.” Y/n cut off the doctor

     “So the drugs were, just for fun?”

     “Just for fun. I accidentally took too much, I’m sure it happens.”

     “It does. You were lucky we were able to revive you. Get some rest Ms. L/n.”

     The doctor smiled at her before leaving the room. She did rest as the doctor said. Mostly since she really couldn’t do anything while she was handcuffed to a bed.

     Minho watched the whole thing. He’d been watching the whole situation since she took the drugs last. He felt bad for her.

     The friends she was with weren’t exactly the best influence. Offering more drugs to each other. He knew at least one of them was bound to die tonight. He didn’t expect it to be one of the prettiest humans he’d seen in decades. 

     He watched her confusion at the scene happening before her. Her friends screamed at her unmoving body to wake up.

     “What the hell?” Y/n asked no one, but Minho still answered

     “You're dead.” Y/n turned to where he stood behind her

     “Who are you?”

     “Death, Grim Reaper, whatever you prefer.”

     Y/n looked back at her friends still trying to wake her up, “do they know?”

     “Considering how high they are, they haven’t figured it out yet. Come on,” Minho said

     “Where are we going?”

     “Whatever afterlife you believe in. But you can’t stay here.”

     Y/n looked at the man in black and then back at her friends. What shocked her most was they were actually trying to wake her up. After they pressured her into joining them. Only ever talking to her when no one else wanted to join them

     “Why are they trying?”

     “Feel bad maybe?” 

     “For what? They never cared. No one did.”

     He’d heard that line so many times. A lot of it was lies. Everyone had one person that really cared about them. Minho felt like she wasn’t lying about this.

     “Humans are weird. Let’s go,” Minho chalked it up to that, he always did. But, he couldn’t help but feel bad for the soul.

     Rather than taking her to whatever afterlife she believed him in, he opted to take care of her soul, personally. He couldn’t explain why, but for the first time since he became a reaper, she made him feel something.

     “What’s this?” Y/n asked as they walked into his ‘home’

     “Call it home. It’s usually somewhere I just hide away when I need to be away from the other reapers,” Minho explained

     “I thought you were gonna make me cross over.” Y/n looked around the place, it was pretty nice, mostly grey and black decorations. Better than any place she had lived in.

     Minho ignored the statement, mainly because he couldn’t even pinpoint why he was doing this in the first place. And maybe the more time he spent with her, the more confused he got. 

     Time worked so differently in the afterlife, even for him as a reaper. It was hard to say how much time passed in the land of the living, but for them, it’d been a year of hiding away her soul. He still had a job but he always made sure to come back to her, even for a bit.

     He got involved with a rather, unpleasant soul who refused to believe they were dead. He’d dealt with it before, reaping them was an easy solution but the guy wasn’t easy. Minho got hit with his own scythe before he pushed the soul to the afterlife. He just needed to rest.

     He opened the door to find Y/n laying on their couch reading one of the books he had collected over the centuries. Not unusual, it wasn’t like they had any kind of technology in the afterlife to watch tv or text someone. If she wasn’t reading when he was home, it was his fault. 

     Their relationship became complicated a few weeks back. Randomly talking turned into playful flirting. Somehow it led to making out of the living room floor. 

     Y/n heard the door open and cast a glance at him, “You look terrible.” Her book was set aside as she rushed over to him.

     “I’m fine, just need to rest,” Minho assured her as she grabbed his face and looked over him.

     “What happened?” She asked, “You look drained.”

     Y/n got him over to the couch and sat him down, kneeling on the ground between his legs. “Violent soul grabbed my scythe and attacked me. I’ll be fine.” 

     “Minho,” Y/n tsks

     “Not the name,” He laughed, which was a bad idea.

     Y/n saw him grab at his torso and moved his hand, unbuttoning his black shirt to see the wound. “If you wanted me to strip, you could’ve just asked sweetheart.”

     “Have I ever told you how insufferable you are sometimes?”

     “Almost all the time.”

     There wasn’t much blood thankfully— if there was really any, to begin with. She was still trying to grasp the death thing honestly. 

     “Hey,” Minho called out and grabbed her hand from the wound that was indeed healing due to his supernatural abilities. Minho pulled her up onto his lap, her legs on either side of him, “I’m fine.”

     “Promise?” She asked

     “Don’t worry about me. It’s not like I can die again.”

     “Yeah but what if you just… disappear?”

     “I’m not gonna disappear.”

     “Promise me you won't? I don’t…”

     “You don't what?”

     “I don't wanna lose the one person that’s actually cared about me, even if we’re dead.”

     Minho leaned forward and pushed his lips onto hers. It took Y/n a moment to register what was happening. Slowly her hands cupped his face, lips melting to move with his. His hands held onto her hips and slowly rocked her against him. 

     “Swear I won’t disappear,” Minho mumbled against her lips, moving down to her neck

     “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his teeth grazed her sweet spot

     “How can you be dead but so fucking horny?” he asked as he kept kissing her neck

     “I was dead inside when I was alive but still horny,” Y/n joked

     Minho laughed with her as she pushed his shirt off his back. He took his hands off her hips to toss the fabric to the side and then slipped her shirt off her body and tossed it to the ground. 

     “Your fucking beautiful,” He pulled her back down onto his lips. His tongue slipped past her lips and fought for dominance with her as she pushed him back against the sofa. 

     His hands grabbed her breasts and massaged them as her hips rolled against his semi. Both moaned as their tongues danced together. 

     “I need you, Min,” Y/n spoke as her hands undid his belt and pants. 

     “Yeah? Thinking about fucking the grim reaper makes you that wet?”

     He pushed a hand under her bottoms and panties, fingers sliding between her folds before pushing two into her while her hand pulled his cock out and wrapped her hand around him. 

     Y/n jacked him off while he fingered her open on his fingers. Moans uncontrollably fall out of their mouths. 

     “I need to fuck you,” Minho groaned as he threw his head back

     “What are you waiting for?” Y/n asked

     Minho kicked into action, laying both of them on the floor and discarding the remainder of their clothes. He pushed his lips onto hers again, taking his cock into her hand and positioning the lips at her entrance. 

     He sunk into her slowly as he lay on his elbows, lips moving in sync with hers. Y/n cupped his face while her legs hung loosely around his hips. Being dead came with the perk of not feeling pain. 

     Minho pulled out and pushed back into her. Slowly and firmly. Centuries after dying and not feeling anything for anyone until now made him appreciate the moment. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hips deliciously rolled into her. More than sure he was hitting impossible spots no one alive could reach, ever. She couldn't help but clench around him.

     “Feel so good around me,” He spoke against her lips

     “I need you to come in me, min. Please,” Y/n begged as his head dipped to her breasts

     “Yeah?”

     “Yes. Please, Min.”

     “My pretty kitty needs the grim reapers come in her that bad?” His face picked up a bit, thrusting into her a bit faster as one hand came between their bodies and rubbed figure eights into her clit

     “Fuck yes! Please Minho.”

     “I got you kitten. Need you to come for me first. Come on, baby.”

     Minho's tongue played with her hard nipples as her legs tightened around his waist. Her hands tangled in his hair and held on tighter the closer she got. Her walls closed in tighter around him, making it harder for him to move but neither cared. It felt too good at the moment. 

    Her orgasm hit her like a train. Her back arched off the floor before her body went limp, convulsing under him as he chased his high. Only slowing down when his high finally hit. 

     Exhaustion didn't hit him. It never would, even though he was injured. “Fuck,” he groaned

     “You okay?” she asked as she calmed down

     “Yeah. Don't think being on top was a good idea though.”

     “If you wanted me on too there's better ways to ask,” Y/n giggled as he pulled out and sat back against the couch. 

     Y/n sat up a few seconds later, climbing onto his lap and cuddling into him. “Is it weird I'm in love with the grim reaper?”

     “Is it weird just fucked a soul I was supposed to cross over?”

     Both laughed at the questions before Y/n looked up at him. “What are we now?”

     “Soul mates.” Minho smiled

     Y/n glares at him as he laughed at his joke. “That was terrible.”

     “You love me though.”

     “I gue—” Y/n stopped when she felt something weird in her chest.

     “Hey, what's wrong?” Minho asked, very alert now

     “Weird pain,” Y/n whined as it came again

     “They’re trying to revive you…” 

     “What? No!” He’d never seen a soul fry real tears like he did now

     “I can’t stop it.” All he could do was watch, as much as he didn't want too

     “Why? You can do anything.”

     “You’re in limbo kitten. It’d be different if crossed over already. I can’t do anything if you're in limbo…”

     “What if I cross over?”

     “It’s too late…” 

     Minho watched her become more and more transparent as they pulled her back to the living.

     “Please, Min. I don't want to go back…”

     “I’ll be there when you die again, okay? I promise.”

     He knew how it felt for humans when they watched someone they loved die. He’d see them cry over the dead. Having Y/n pulled from him back to life was just like that. But he could wait. 

     He found her in a hospital, waiting in her room. Occasionally leaving when he sensed someone pass and brought them over before going back and watching her. Even when she slept. Hoping she felt his presence or saw him. 

     “Until death, kitten.” He stood by her bedside watching her sleep.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[racergirl-112]

Push Me Over - Hugh Jackman and OG Reader

Since I get into writing these fan fics based on who I'm obsessed with at that time, then my library is all over the place. Like a lot of people, I have rekindled my 10 year old crush on Hugh Jackman.

Here is a taste of my original story featuring the man, the legend, the man who makes my daddy issues ok, Hugh Jackman and my original character.

Let me know if you want more!

**********************************************************************

WARNINGS:::::::::MDNI (Future chapters) Angst; love; loss; so much smut. Fingering, unprotected pinv (wrap it up); creampie, orgasm, mention of death; age gap. Reader is in her 30s and Hugh is 55.

Synopsis:

Up and coming actress Danielle (Dani) James Levy just got the opportunity of a lifetime, a supporting role in her Uncle Shawn Levy's new film with his best friends, a little film called Deadpool and Wolverine. She has all intentions of being professional and getting her first big break, but little does she know all her plans are about to be derailed by her co-star and her uncle's friend. None other than Wolverine himself, Hugh Jackman.

Once they meet and test the limits of their chemistry, along with their 23 year age gap, more than fireworks begin to erupt.

With Hugh coming off his divorce and Dani trying to stay professional, will that keep them from their happy ending?

******************************************************************* Chapter 1: At First Glance

May 2023

There was a knock on her trailer door as Dani Levy scrolled her phone. “Come in,” she answered. The door swung open and her Uncle Shawn walked in. She set her phone down because she knew if he was here, then it was something important. After a few small parts and background acting, her Uncle Shawn had gotten her a big audition for a supporting role in the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie. Being a fan of Marvel and her Uncle, she jumped at the opportunity. 

“Dani, are you ready for your big debut?” her Uncle Shawn asked. 

“Absolutely, just really nervous. I mean Ryan is cool, but I get to work with everyone else and haven’t even met them yet.” 

“Well, that’s why I’m here. I wanted to do a little team dinner tonight to welcome everyone to filming. It’ll help introduce everyone before filming and hopefully break the ice.” 

“Wasn’t that what you do at a table read?” Dani asked. 

“Usually, yes. This project has been so locked down though, we didn’t have a chance to do one with everyone’s schedules and plus half the script would have had to have been redacted.” 

“Sorry, you know the stuff I’ve done. I haven’t had to do these types of things before. I’m just nervous,” Dani replied. 

“It’s all good kid, you know Uncle Shawn has your back. Who knows, this might open you up to new adventures and opportunities,” he said, getting up to leave. Dani followed her Uncle to the door as she watched him leave.  New adventures and opportunities. Yeah right. Boy, was she in for a big surprise. 

Later that night, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds pulled up to the restaurant the team had rented out for the cast and crew to get to know each other. 

“Are you sure you’re still on board, man?” Ryan asked. 

“Yeah mate, I’m still committed. I wouldn’t grow my facial hair like this for nothing,” Hugh answered. 

Ryan let out a laugh. “How are things going at home?”

“Well, Deb and I went to the lawyer last week to officially finalize the divorce paperwork. It just feels weird.” Ryan put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Look man, if you need anything, you know I’m here and so is Blake. If Shawn knows too, you know he’ll help you out too.” 

“Thanks Mate,” Hugh replied as they walked into the restaurant and to the bar. 

Dani decided to not make it look like she was one of those nepo Hollywood kids, so she decided that she would arrive separately from her uncle. She pulled on the hem of her short black long-sleeve dress she had decided to wear, feeling self-conscious in her decision. She stood at the door of the party and took a big breath before walking in. People mingled around the large room, then she spotted her Uncle at the bar next to Ryan. 

“Ah, look who finally got here,” her Uncle Shawn said. 

“I’m not late,” Dani said, looking at her watch with a panicked look. 

“What’s up kid?” Ryan asked, pulling her in for a hug.

“Hi Ryan! Kid really?,” Dani replied with a laugh. She glanced at the man standing beside Ryan. He looked familiar, but also super hot. The way his arm muscles filled out his collared shirt, to the stubble beard that peppered his jawline was making Dani feel some sort of way. 

“Ryan, you already know my niece, but Dani, I’d like you to meet Hugh Jackman or as everyone knows him, wolverine.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dani,” he said, his hand reaching out to shake hers. The smile he gave her, adding to the list of things she was finding attractive about this man. 

“Nice to meet you too, Hugh. My Uncle has told me alot about you,” she replied with a smile. 

“I hope all good things,” he replied with a smile. “Shawn, I didn’t know your niece was an actress.” 

“Well, she is and she is super talented. When we got the script finalized and talked to Ryan and Kevin about who would fit the part, I suggested Dani to audition.”

“She’s not so bad,” Ryan replied, putting his arm around her shoulder, acting like another uncle or older brother. 

“You two are embarrassing. I’m trying not to look like I got the part because I’m related to the director,” Dani replied. 

“I think you’ll be just fine,” Hugh answered, giving her a wink. Dani nodded, downing her drink before excusing herself to talk to someone else on the cast. Little did she know, she had captured the one person’s attention that had put her in a way and now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

Insert the beginning of all the problems. 

[fairysluna]

what should've been.

Aegon has always been in love with his loyal childhood companion, so when King Viserys proposed a betrothal between them, he's absolutely blissful with the idea, although his happiness wouldn't last long.

MASTERLIST | Epilogue

PAIRING — Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader.

TAGS/TW — friends to lovers, fluff, angst, death by illness, grief, cursing, teenage!aegon at the beginning, mentions of infertility, 'i hate everyone but you' trope.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — (2nd repost) small context, Aegon was named heir and reader is daughter of Lord Arryn who in this story is Maester of Law in the Small Council. this was a request, and ngl i loved this even tho it broke my heart... pls enjoy!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 7.6k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

Aegon's head was on her lap. 

The girl was leaning back on the Weirwood tree while Aegon was listening to her reading. The book on her hand was about the Andals, and she looked genuinely interested in the lecture while Aegon couldn’t help but to follow the movement her lips did with every word she pronounced. It was hypnotizing, as if they were begging to be kissed by him.

While one of her hands was holding the old book, the other one was on his hair, stroking the strands of it with such delicacy and care that Aegon would have fallen asleep right there, but he forced his eyes to be open only to stare at her, and the flower that he had left in her hair a few minutes ago.

"... The Vale of Arryn is where is located the purest Andals' blood as it was the first place they reach in their arrival to Westeros, and where their invasion started-" 

"So you are a pureblood then?" Aegon asked, teasingly interrupting her lecture. "I'm a pureblood too."

"Pureblood?" She repeated, closing the book and leaving it on the side. "What are you, a wolf?"

"I'm a dragon, love." He sat up and leaned forward, getting closer to her face. “The blood of Old Valyria runs in my veins, and the blood of the Andals runs in yours, perhaps we should mix them and make beautiful pureblood children." He teased her, moving his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner.

Lady Arryn laughed loudly at his antics, pushing him away by putting her hand against his chest. Aegon just smiled at her reaction, being mesmerized by the sound of her laughter. Her cheeks soon started blushing thanks to his shameless comment and he enjoyed the view, loving how she would get flustered whenever he said those kinds of things. 

“I thought you did not wish for children.” She remembered him. 

“Oh, I definitely don’t.” He shook his head, “But perhaps the process of making them would allow us to have some fun.”

The girl slapped the Prince’s arm, and he dropped his mouth, offended by the gesture. 

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“You just slapped the arm of the heir!” He jokingly said, “I can cut your hands for it.”

"Why would you say such a foolish thing?" She spoke between chuckles. 

"It's not a 'foolish thing', it's a proposal." He clarified, "You will be my wife someday, I’m telling you."

"You're too confident." She claimed, "Due to your queer family customs, you will probably get married to Helaena."

His smile vanished almost immediately. His horror face was such a sight; his eyes widened and his eyebrows frowned exaggeratedly while his upper lip curled up. It was a hilarious scene that had the Lady chuckling quietly.

"Don't speak too loud, the Gods might hear you." He warned. "You are giving them ideas to punish me."

"You should stop giving them reasons to punish you." 

"I don't do that!" He said offended. The girl stared at him with a serious semblance. Aegon smirked, "What? Does loving you so deeply be considered a sin?" 

He leaned forward once again, this time he managed to kiss her cheek. The girl looked down, trying to hide her embarrassed face. No matter how many times Aegon would make those comments towards her, no matter how many times he would kiss her not-so-far from her lips; she just could not stop reacting that way. It is as if her body was trying to publicly show her feelings towards the Prince.

“You are a fool, Aegon.” She whispered, feeling his closeness. “Now, step back before someone sees us.”

“Why?” He looked around, and then looked back at her. “There’s no one here and I’m comfortable.”

“My honor would be doubted if they see you this close to me.” She explained with a subtle smile, “Step back, now.”

“But I love admiring your beauty from this angle.” He muttered, getting closer and closer. 

“Aegon…” She pledged, feeling her heart beating faster.

“If you wouldn’t want it, you would stop me.” 

She could feel his breathing crashing against her lips, she could sense the waves of the sound of his sweet voice; she was weak, she was panting as soon as she realized that just one push would be enough to feel his lips against hers for the first time; just a tiny push, but she didn’t have the guts to do it, she was too scared.

His hand fell on her soft cheek, Aegon felt the warmth of it and smirked. Her eyes were glistening and he knew for sure that his were too. He was so close to her that he was able to smell the scent of her hair, so sweet and delicious. 

“I want to kiss you.” He said, brushing his lips against hers. 

“Do it-”

“Prince Aegon.” Said a male voice behind them, interrupting the moment abruptly. Suddenly all the magic was gone.

The Lady pushed him away once more, this time it took him by surprise making him roll over until he laid on his back against the grass. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly before looking at Ser Criston, who was curiously staring at the both of them. The poor girl was so flustered that she could not even look the guard in the face; she looked at the book in her hands instead.

“Lady Arryn.” He greeted, “The Queen wants to see you both.”

“Both?” She repeated, scandalized. “Why?”

“I’m afraid I’m only a messenger, my Lady.” Ser Criston replied, while offering his hand to her so she could stand up without problem.

“I was going to do that!” Aegon complained, but Ser Criston ignored him. 

The both teens walked behind the guard with the white cloak in silence. Aegon would purposely brush his hand against hers only to make her smile; she would look at him with accomplice eyes in return for his silly action. 

Once they arrived at the Council Room, Queen Alicent, King Viserys and Lord Arryn were waiting for them. Ser Criston bowed swiftly before going to a corner of the room. The three adults were showing serious semblances that put the teens into distress, unsure of what they would say. 

“My King.” Lady Arryn said, bowing. “My Queen.” She repeated the action, and then she went to her father to whom she greeted with a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Why are we here?” Aegon asked.

“We have some important news we would like to share with you both.” King Viserys explained. “Please, be seated.”

They listened obediently, sitting right next to each other. Lady Arryn’s leg was jumping out of nervousness, thinking that someone might have seen all those times when Aegon tried to kiss her and she didn’t push him back, or that some maid could have started a rumor that put her honor in disgrace. She was tormenting herself with her ideas, getting more anxious by the second. Aegon noticed it, and he placed his hand over hers in order to calm her down a little. It worked.

“We all know how close you have been during your entire childhood and even now.” The King explained, “We also know that House Arryn has been loyal to our House since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, which is something I am truly grateful for.”

“We had a conversation during a Small Council meeting about your future as King.” Alicent spoke to his son, “And we have decided that it is time for you to marry with a good and decent Lady that could provide you with an heir.”

“And we have chosen you, Lady Arryn.” Viserys announced. The girl looked over the table to find her father smiling pleasantly, “Your father has just given us his blessing in this union and we are already getting the preparations for the wedding.”

“You’ll be married in a fortnight.” Said the Queen with a kind smile. “I hope this union makes you both equally happy.”

The girl could’t react at first, it felt like a dream. She has been in love with Aegon since she learned what it truly means to love someone; that thin, platinum haired boy has stolen her heart since they first met, and now she was getting married to him. To her Aegon. 

Aegon was also so thrilled about the news that an incredulous smile formed on his face as soon as he heard the news. He looked at his mother and mouthed a subtle ‘thank you’ which made her smile. He was not used to getting what he wanted. He never did, actually. But this, the fact that he would get to spend the rest of his life with the girl he was deeply in love with, was more than enough for him. 

He started to thank the Gods too for listening to his pledges, for giving him a chance to be happy. His heart was beating fast, and he didn’t know if it was because of the excitement or because he felt the eyes of his beloved on his face. He turned around and saw her softened haze and her sweet smile, it was impossible to ignore it.

“I told you.” Aegon said, “You will be my wife.”

Their wedding was beautiful. Lady Arryn wore a beautiful white gown with golden embroidery with the shape of pansies; her favorite flowers. Aegon's eyes were lost with her beauty that day, he could not believe his luck. Seeing her walking down the aisle with her father on her right arm and enormous bright smile on her face was enough for him to realize that he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

They were still too young to understand what marriage and forever truly mean, but they were excited to learn about those things together. 

Aegon could not be separated from his wife during the whole night; he could not stop kissing her in front of everyone, for she was finally his. His sneaky hands were touching her body everytime they would go and dance in the middle of the whole; Alicent would send warning stares at her oldest son,but he would just ignore them, he was way too happy to even care about what she might say about his attitude. Besides, she was already his wife. 

He forbade the bedding ceremony, claiming that the only man who deserves to see Lady Arryn naked is him. When the night arrived, she was too shy and nervous while Aegon was almost jumping with excitement. It was her first time, but not Aegon’s, and yet he felt as if he had never felt pleasure before, for there was no sensation in the world that could’ve been compared with what he felt once he saw her naked for the first time. 

He was soft and caring, touching her with such delicacy that even he surprised himself with it. She was so soft, so beautiful and mesmerizing. Aegon saw himself as the luckiest man in the entire world because he would get to spend the rest of his life contemplating the beautiful woman he has as his wife. 

Four years passed after their wedding night, and both were living through  their twentieth name-day. Their love was still present, as strong as it ever was. Aegon was still smiling as a teenage boy everytime she would enter the room, and she would still blush when he whispered unholy comments in her ear. They were living in a paradise made only for them.

However, they hadn’t been able to conceive an heir yet. 

At first, both of them were not enchanted with the idea of having a child, there was no rush either. King Viserys was still healthy, there was no war, no threats that might put their lives in danger, so they just decided to wait. Lady Arryn would drink her moontea in the mornings after spending the night together and wait until her time of the month would arrive. 

Then, she started to show herself a bit more open about it, after she met her nephews and nieces on a trip to the Eyrie. Aegon and her were married for two and a half years when she started to have desires for motherhood, but she knew that even though she felt ready, Aegon did not feel the same. The pressure of inheriting the crown was too much already, too many responsibilities that would not let him live as freely as he wants; having a child would add another duty in his long list.

“Don’t hate me for it.” Aegon begged after explaining himself to her. “All I’m asking for is a few more years. We’ve been doing fine on our own, we can keep doing it for a couple years more.”

Lady Arryn looked at him with her haze softened, caressing his cheeks with her thumb in sweet movements that would relax his body. His eyes were looking down at her with worry, scared that she might get angry at him for not giving her what she wanted; but she only nodded, accepting his deal with a subtle smile. 

“How could I ever hate you, my love?” She spoke softly. “I will wait, there’s no reason to hurry.” She shrugged, downplaying the matter. “Besides, we are both still young.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” He asked, insecureness was heard in his voice.

She cupped his chubby cheeks and brought him closer to her so she could kiss his lips in a tender way. Her lips were moving softly and slowly against his, while his hands positioned themselves on the curve of her hips.

“There is no reason to be mad, my love.” She clarified after she leaned back. “This family will also be yours. We both must be ready to start it, not just me.”

And that is what they did.

They were avoiding the constant questions of the Lords and Ladies that would grow curious by the absence of a child after three years of marriage. Aegon would not listen to those comments, but he would realize her reactions towards them; she would put on the fakest smile he had ever seen, and just shrug with a saddened look on her eyes. Even though Aegon did not worry about it, he eventually did. 

In one of their trips to the Eyrie, Aegon saw his lady wife playing with her nephews while her nieces braided her hair. Her smile was so genuine and big that made him whole. He noticed how happy she was whenever she was around those children, and then he realized that his wife has always been so attentive, kind and loving towards him, she never pushed him to do something he did not want to do, not even when she wanted it so bad. 

That is when he decided that it was time. He wanted to make her happy, to make himself worthy of her love, so he told her that he was ready. He wanted to give her a child.

However, the Gods did not seem to be so pleased with the idea, because after months of trying —and they definitely were trying—, she would not get pregnant. 

Lady Arryn was starting to lose hope, feeling guilty about the situation. She married the King’s heir in order to give him an heir, and she was miserably failing in her duty as wife. Aegon consoled her one night when he found her crying beside the bed. Her eyes were closed, she was kneeling and her hands were intertwined; she was praying to the Mother. 

“My love…” Aegon spoke up once he got into the room.

The girl looked up, her teary eyes were enough to break his heart. Her cheeks were glistening with the tears that had previously fallen down her face. Once she saw her beloved husband, she started crying loudly; he immediately kneeled beside her and hugged her tightly, comforting her in her pain.

“I’m so sorry, Aegon.” She whined in his ear. “I’ve tried, I swear it. I’ve been praying to the Mother but she refuses to listen.”

“Sh, sh.” He said while brushing her hair with his fingers. Hearing her voice so broken made him tear up too. He couldn’t handle seeing her in that way. “No need to apologize, my love. This is not your fault.”

“My womb is useless.” She said. “I haven’t been able to give you an heir. It is my duty and I couldn’t fulfill it.”

“Nonsense.” He whispered softly, cleaning the tears on her face and looking at her with a loving haze. “The Maester says we just need to keep trying.”

“He’s been saying it for months, Aegon.” Lady Arryn whined. “Nothing happens yet.”

“We just need to be patient.” Aegon tried to cheer her up. “Besides, it’s not like we are not enjoying the process, is it?”

She tried to smile, but she just couldn’t. The sorrow on her heart was too big, the thought of letting Aegon down was tortuous, heart breaking even. He had been such a loving and good husband, he deserved to be a good father too.

“I’ve failed you.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Don’t you ever say that again, y/n.” He warned. “You have never failed me. Never. Not even when I was a foolish boy.” He cupped her face and left a soft kiss on her lips. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive, and I love you.” 

“I love you too.” She managed to say between sobs and sighs. 

“You were praying now, right?” She nodded. “This is what we are going to do; we, together, are going to pray to the Mother, we are going to pledge a little of her compassion, and we are going to try again.” He held her hands, left soft kisses in them before positioning in a prayer position. “Go on, love.”

Her shaky voice was heard around the room while she started to sing the Mother’s hymn. Aegon closed his eyes and started to pledge. He was not a full believer, he would just pretend to be praying when his mother blesses the table before eating; but now he meant it. He put his whole heart out, offering the Gods thousands of things in exchange for a child for his beloved wife. 

Six full moons later, there was still no positive outcome, and even though the Maester had given her hundreds of teas and infusions to make her more fertile, the results were the same. So Aegon decided to send her to the Vale in order to spend time with the small children of her brothers, thinking that the trip would cheer her up a bit, after so many months of not having good news. Aegon had to stay on King’s Landing in order to attend the Council Meetings, his father was starting to get older. 

Lady Arryn was away for at least a month when she decided to come back in the arms of his beloved, who would escape in Sunfyre’s back to see her at least once a week. He just couldn’t stay away from her for so long. 

When she arrived back in the Capital, Aegon ran into the main entrance with a big smile that soon faded away once he set his eyes on her. He had flown to see her a week ago, and she looked completely different from who he was looking at now. She could barely get out of the carriage by herself, and she fainted when she put her feet on the ground.

Aegon yelled in despair, asking for a Maester while he carried his wife all the way towards the room they shared. He was scared. Her face was paler, there were purple circles around her eyes and her skin was burning. He didn’t know what was going on with her, a few days ago she was just fine.

The Maester was quick enough to wake her up, but the fever was already putting signs of illness on her tired face. Aegon asked the old man a million times about the health of his wife, concerned, desperate and scared. Of course he didn’t have the answers to it yet.

“Is it a babe?” Aegon asked hurryingly. “Is she- is she finally pregnant?”

“My Prince, these are not symptoms of a healthy pregnancy.” The Maester informed, “I’m afraid I should send some letters to the Citadel in order to find out.”

“Well, then fucking do that!” He screamed in his face. “Why are you still waiting?!”

“Aegon…” A soft voice was heard, the man turned around to see his wife waking up and trying to stand up. “Aegon, my love.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He rushed to her side and soon grabbed her shaky hand. “What happened? Tell me, what do you feel?”

A maid walked towards her with a wet cloth and a bowl filled with cold water. Aegon grabbed those things and started to clean her face, trying to make the fever go away. 

“We stopped to eat in a canteen on the way here.” She informed him, “The food was delicious.”

“Was it?” Aegon asked with a small smile on his lips, she nodded. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“A bit tired.” She said, “And thirsty.”

Aegon hurried to the nightstand and grabbed a cup to fill it with fresh and cold water. He helped her drink it, lifting her chin with two of his fingers and pouring the water inside her mouth. 

“I guess we won’t be able to try for a baby tonight.” She lamented, jokingly. That made him chuckle. 

“We can do that tomorrow night, there’s no hurry.” He leaned to kiss her forehead, feeling how sweaty and hot was her skin. “You must rest now.”

“Will you stay by my side?” She asked, closing her eyes once again. 

“I will always, my love.” 

He did as promised and never left her side. He was there, on a chair by her bed the entire day and the night that followed it. The maids would try to convince him to go and eat something, they promised him that she was in good hands, but he refused. He would not leave her, not like this. 

Her father went to see her, Lord Arryn stroked her hair for a while before saying goodbye as he must travel to Essos in the name of the crown. He thought it wasn’t something serious, he thought that she would be fine within days, but Aegon knew that wasn’t the case. He knew from the beginning that something was wrong.

Alicent went to see her daughter in law, and she brought food for her son. He received it, thanked her for it, but he did not eat it. He was not hungry, he was not tired; he was worried. He had never seen anyone in that state, and something inside of him was telling him it was not normal.

The next day she woke up first. Her head was aching and her body was covered in chills making her shiver with the cold wind. Aegon’s hand was wrapped around hers, and she squeezed it three times to wake him up too. The silver haired man opened his eyes tiredly and soon a groan came out of his throat for the backache that was produced by the uncomfortable and hard chair. He stopped complaining as soon as he saw his wife’s eyes staring at him.

He yawned before giving her a sweet smile, kissing her hand and then her forehead. Her skin was still burning.  

“Good morrow, my sun.” He greeted her, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Her voice sounded weak, but Aegon tried to ignore that. “Did you?”

“I didn’t.” He answered annoyed, “This is a fucking castle, how can it not have comfortable chairs around?”

She laugh weakly.

“You still have a fever, don’t you?” Aegon asked. 

“I do, and I’m cold.” She complained. 

“I know, my love.” He replied, “But the Maester says it’s not good to put so many blankets on you, your fever can go worse.”

“And what about my husband’s arms?” She asked teasingly. Aegon just smiled, “Did the Maester forbid that too?”

Aegon took his shirt out of his body and made his way on top of the thin white bed sheet that was covering the shivering body of his beloved. She quickly cuddled under his arms, and hid her face on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth. Aegon did not care about how sweaty her body was, he just cared about making her feel comfortable and safe. She fell asleep once again; the fever was consuming her body.

The Maester walked in a few minutes before and almost choked when he saw the scene. A scandalized grin took over his wrinkled face and looked at them with horror. 

“Oh, no, my Prince!” He said, pulling Aegon’s arm and forcing him to get out of the bed. 

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He raised his voice, Lady Arryn woke up.

“My Prince, you should not be this close to you wife, she-”

“She’s my fucking wife, what did you expect?” He angrily protested. 

“My Prince, whatever illness the Princess has, we are not sure whether it is contagious or not. We cannot put your health at risk.”

Aegon was about to yell again, his face was red with anger because the Maester had woken up his wife. His hands were turned into fists, ready to punch him in the face, but the sweet voice of his beloved spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Maester Orwyle.” She said lightly, “It was my suggestion, not the Prince’s.” 

The Maester walked towards her and she tried to sit up but her arms were too frail to hold her weight, so she fell back onto the mattress. Aegon frowned, but she gave him a smile of reassurance. 

“You still have a fever, Princess.” The Maester pointed out. “How is your body behaving? Have you got any chill sensation? Cold, shivers, or a headache perhaps?”

“All of them.” She answered with one breath. 

The man took a weird looking tool and put it against her chest. He put his ear on it and asked everyone to be quiet. His eyes soon narrowed with worry, but he tried to downplay the situation by hiding his face from the Prince’s intense haze. His attempt failed.

“What?” Aegon asked harshly, “What happened, why would you make that face?” 

“My Prince-”

“What is going on?” He insisted, “Fucking answer me!”

“The heartbeats sound a bit weak.” He explained, “Too slow and too soft for someone for her age.”

“Well, then fucking do something about it!” 

“I’m going to prepare an infusion of herbs for the Princess, that might do well.” He said before leaving the room. 

The two of them stayed alone in the room once again, Lady Arryn looked at her husband and stretched her arm so he could grab her hand. He did, and he kissed it, sitting on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed.

“Don’t be so mean to him, my love.” She said, “He is trying to help.”

“He’s the Grand Maester, if he cannot do his job then we must find another one that can.” She stared at him with a scolding gesture, Aegon sighed, rolling his eyes. “I want the best for you, if I have to travel all over the world to find something to make you feel better, then I will.”

“I’m going to be fine.” She assured him, “In a week I’ll be out of this bed and we can start trying for a child again.”

“Don’t stress your mind thinking about it.” He told her, shaking his head. “We’ve talked about this before; there’s no hurry.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’, my sun.” He interrupted her, “We need to focus on your health first.”

And she nodded, giving an end to the conversation. 

Aegon wished to say his wife was getting better, but it was not the case at all. Everyday it seemed as if someone was sucking the life out of her body. She lost a lot of weight, Aegon was able to see her ribs marked on her chest; she barely ate anything, she did not have an appetite to satisfy. Everyday she would speak less too, and her voice would get breathy as if she was getting exhausted by just saying some words. Aegon then stopped making her answer, she would just nod, refuse or smile at him. It was better that way.

She didn’t have the strength to sit up either, so Aegon had to give her water with the help of a dropper. She would complain every time she swallowed, which alarmed him even more. 

When Aegon thought he was going through the worst, a terrible thing happened. He was ranting about the Maester and how he hasn’t found a solution to her illness even though it has been days since she was in that state. He was furious, spitting words of rage and nuisance while his wife just looked at him with tired glossy eyes. 

And then she started to cough.

At first, he did not pay too much attention to it, thinking that it was just that; a simple cough. But then, the white bed sheets were stained with small drops of blood. Aegon jumped out of the chair and helped her sit up while desperately calling for Maester Orwyle. She did not stop coughing, it was like she was choking on her own blood. 

Aegon’s eyes widened in terror, and an exasperating sensation took over his body when he saw that no one was coming to help her. Where the fuck was everyone? He thought, while he was on the verge of tears. He almost ripped his throat apart while screaming and demanding the presence of the Maester, who minutes later walked inside the room and quickly approached the Princess who had just stopped coughing. 

She had her eyes closed, and it seemed as if she was in pain with every breath she took. 

The Maester gave her milk of the puppy just so she could stop complaining about the tortuous pain her weakened body was suffering, and once he was ready to leave Aegon grabbed his arm with a firm grip, his eyes were teary and filled with rage. 

“What is going on with her?” He demanded an answer, his voice shaking. “Answer me!”

“We don’t know what is going on with her, my Prince.” He stuttered, “We have never seen a case like this before. The Citadel-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Citadel.” Aegon spat, “You need to tell me what is wrong with her, why is she not getting better? It’s been days!”

“I’ve tried every method I know.” He confessed, “It seemed as if her body is rejecting everything. I’m not sure if she will make it.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” 

“My Prince, your lady wife state is alarming…” He spoke with care, as if she was walking between dragons. “She could not survive-”

Aegon grabbed him by his collar, making him gasp out of the impression. His nostrils expanded and he was breathing fast and hard, he was fuming.

“If my wife dies, you will die too.” He threatened him, “You must save her, I don’t care what you have to do, but you will save her.” 

The old man left quickly, and again it was just him and his dying wife. Aegon felt tears running down his face. He hated seeing her like this, so weak and sick. He would see her eyes for glimpses of time, he would take the opportunity to see them whenever she would open them, and it was enough for him to notice how they were not as shiny as they usually were; they were drained, with so little life. 

Alicent arrived in her room a few hours later, she saw his son grabbing her hand and the dried tears in his eyes. She walked closer to him and caressed his back in a motherly touch that made him shiver.

“What did the Maester say?” She asked worried.

“He doesn’t know what is going on.” Aegon replied with a shaky voice, proof that he had been crying. “He is an incompetent. How the fuck is he even a Maester if he doesn’t know how to heal people?”

“He’s trying his best.” Alicent consoled him, “He had sent multiple letters to the Citadel already, the answers might take too long to arrive.”

“But I need it now.” He muttered. “She is sick now, look at her!” He scalped, making Alicent flinch. “She is burning! The fever is killing her!”

“It is not, my child.” She said, in a failed attempt to calm him down. “Y/n will be fine… you just have to pray for her health and wellbeing. You won’t even notice and she’ll be healthy again.”

Then, Aegon broke. He stood up from his chair beside the bed and went to hug his mother, hiding his head on the crook of her neck and leaving traces of tears all over her green dress. Alicent hugged him back, stroking his hair and whispering words of consolation. 

“I’m scared.” He confessed, whispering. “I can’t lose her, mother. I cannot live without her.”

“You will not lose her.” She said, “She will be fine.”

“She’s not getting better.” He pulled away and looked at his mother. “The Maester even told me, she is too weak already.”

“I’ve seen people living through worse and surviving.”

“You didn’t see what I saw.” He shook his head, “She was coughing blood, mother. Blood!” His lower lip trembled, making his voice sound unsteady. “She’s dying.”

Alicent held his hands, “We should pray together, wouldn’t you like that? Y/n is devoted to the Seven, perhaps this is what she would want.” 

Aegon nodded and his mother gave a sweet kiss on his forehead before going at the end of the bed and grabbing their hands. He gave a glance to his wife, she was sleeping soundly, covered with the bedsheets and her hair was spreaded on her pillow. Aegon whined once he saw her poor state, and soon he forced himself to close his eyes and pray with his mother. 

He begged them. He asked them to return her health in exchange for everything he had. He offered his title; he never wanted it in the first place, he offered his dragon; he could live without him but not without his wife, he even offered his own life because he knew hers was more worthy than his. She did not deserve to die so young, she was always so full of life, always smiling and laughing, so kind and thoughtful. If someone deserved to die it was him, not her; so he begged the gods to take him instead. 

When the next morning came, he woke up in the same chair as always, covered in the same blanket and holding the same hand, but something was different. He could feel it. 

He squeezed her hand three times as usual to wake her up, but she did not squeeze it back. Aegon frowned and tried again; the outcome was the same. He tried not to panic or have an early reaction, so she stood up and quickly sat on the bed, right beside her.

“My love?” He said softly, “My love, is time to wake up.” Aegon softly shook her body, yet there was no answer. “Please, my love, let me see those beautiful eyes. Wake up.”

Nothing. Not even a sigh. 

Aegon grew desperate by the second and the tears soon started to gather in his eyes, knowing the meaning of this. He never gave up, he was still calling her and moving her body begging for her to react. 

“Y/n, please, wake up.” He pledged once again, sobbing, “I need you to wake up, I need you, please! Please!”

His hand went to her hair to caress it, and he felt the coldness of her forehead. All these past days, her skin was burning, but now it was as cold as ice. Aegon widened his eyes and his hands cupped her face.

“No, no, no.” He muttered, sniffing and whimpering. “Please, don’t. Don’t leave, my love. Please wake up.” His tears fell on her pale face, and he sob loudly. “Y/n, my love, please!” He started to yell, “Don’t do this to me! Wake up!”

His shouting started to concern the guard outside the room, he entered and saw Aegon crying on top of his dead wife’s body, holding her head and stroking her hair while he was uncontrollably sobbing. The guard saw what was happening and he was quick to call the Queen and the Maester, who appeared in the room within minutes. 

Alicent gasped once he saw the heartbreaking scene, and soon she started to cry too. Aegon was now holding her body while his face was buried on her chest. He never stopped crying and begging her to wake up. Soft ‘please’ were heard, he was whimpering pledged to her and the Gods, but neither seemed to listen.

“My Prince-”

“Don’t touch her!” He shouted at the Maester once he tried to put his hands on her. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Aegon,” Alicent walked towards him, rubbing his back and trying to not sound as if she was crying. “The Maester needs to do his job, please-”

“He killed her!” He accused him, “I will put your fucking useless head on a spike, you idiot cunt!”

“Aegon, that’s enough.” Alicent warned him, “You must let her go, please, my child.”

A group of Silent Sisters entered the room and Aegon’s whole body froze. The ladies started to walk towards the bed while Alicent was pulling him away from it. He started squirming under his mother’s arms, not wanting to be separated from his beloved.

Soon, two guards entered the room and grabbed his arms, forcing him to leave his wife.

“No! No!” He started to move harshly, trying to be set free. “Please, don’t take her! Please! Mother, please!”

“I’m so sorry, my child.” His mother answered.

Aegon saw how her face was covered with the white sheet, and how the Silent Sisters grabbed her body and took her out of the room, he was still fighting against the strong grips that were holding him back. 

“Let me go! Please!” He begged again.

Once the Silent Sister left and the bed was empty, the guards let him go. He felt onto his knees, seeing the shape of his wife still marked on the mattress they used to share and the tears came back. His mother stood by his side, and he hugged her hips gripping the gown of her dress and moaning out of pain. 

He lost her, the love of his life was gone and there was no one to blame. The Stranger looked back at him with a mocking face and took his wife, leaving him completely alone. 

Hours later he found himself staring at her body being wrapped in bandages in order to realize the funeral. He had one bottle filled with wine in his hand, and a piece of bread in the other. He was stumbling because he was already drunk. The Silent Sisters were working, and Aegon was lost in his own grief, looking at the corpse of his wife. 

He did not care if she was not a Targaryen, her funeral will be under the Old Valyrian traditions. 

“Aegon, you should not be here.” 

Aegon did not answer, he did not even bother to look at his mother who just arrived on his side. 

“It’s bad luck to see the face of the dead, we cannot be here.” She warned.

He scoffed, taking a large sip from his bottle and then taking a bite from the piece of bread in his hand. He shrugged as if he did not care. And in some way, he didn’t.

“I don’t give a shit.” He muttered, “They have already taken everything from me. They may as well take me if they are merciful enough.”

“Don’t say those things.” Alicent said. She turned around to not look at the corpse anymore, facing his child whose eyes seemed to be stuck on her wife’s body. “Y/n would not like you to die.”

“And what do you know?” He asked mockingly, “You knew nothing about her. None of you did!”

“Aegon, please be quiet. The Gods-”

“Fuck the Gods.”

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“No, no. Fuck them.” He spat furiously, his eyes were a mixture of sadness and anger. “I begged them, mother. Me and y/n begged them for their mercy.” He started crying again, “When we wanted a child, we begged every fucking night to the Mother, to have a little of compassion towards us and give us the child that we deserved- that she deserved!” He sniffed, looking now at his mother. “Then I begged all of them for her life. And none of them heard me, none of them did!”

“My child…” She tried to hug him, but he took a step back. 

“They made me believe that I was safe.” He muttered, “They made me meet her, love her and marry her. They gave me this  happiness just so they can steal it away!” 

He laughed, a bitter laugh that made Alicent sink in her place. Aegon took the last sip from his cup and threw the bottle away, not caring about the uproarious sound it would make once it fell onto the ground. Then, he turned to his mother once again.

“I couldn’t-” He sighed, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t even give her a child.” He scoffed, “It was all she ever wanted and I couldn’t give it to her.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Aegon.” She tried to console him once again. 

“I have nothing left from her.” He said bitterly, “Not even a child that would help me to remember her face. Nothing at all.”

He threw the piece of bread in his hand on the floor, and he left for the gardens; the place where they were always gathered during their youth. 

Aegon saw everything with nostalgic eyes filled with tears. His head was aching, his throat too. He had a watery nose thanks to the tears and his heart was feeling shattered. He looked around, finding the tree where they always used to read, the benches where Aegon used to sit down while Lady Arryn would braid his hair. Although the flowers were his breaking point. 

He walked close to the small mauve pansies that she always loved. He would always steal one and put her on her hair every time they came to the gardens. She would blush and laugh nervously for the gesture, but he always ended up receiving a small kiss on his cheek for it. That’s why he always did it.

He took one and looked at it with attention, remembering the same petals on her white wedding gown during the happiest day in his life. 

He couldn’t help but cry at the memory.

+

The day of the funeral Aegon did not speak with anyone. Lord Arryn and his other sons —y/n’s brothers— arrived within a week, and then everything was ready for the ceremony. 

Sunfyre was in the hills, waiting for the signal of his rider to set fire on the wrapped body. They were all expecting for Aegon to give a speech, to say something about the wife he claimed to love so deeply, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too broke, too lost in his grief.

He had a small mauve pansy in his hand, Aemond had told him that it represented the lost love which gave a whole different meaning to it. Aegon heard the speech of his father in law, who was devastated for not taking her illness seriously and leaving her without his company on her last days. Aegon could hear the guilt in his voice, and he would be grateful that at least he was with her during her last breath. 

When the time arrived, everyone went silent. Aegon had to pronounce the word, but instead he walked toward the body and stood beside them, letting himself cry in agony for his suffering. Minutes passed and he found himself staring at it for too long. 

He took the flower and left it where her ear was supposed to be. This time, however, he did not feel her soft lips against his cheek.

“I will always love you, my sun.” He whispered before walking back to where the rest of the people were. 

Aegon stood beside his mother, who rubbed his back in the instant he was close. He took a deep breath and saw the body one last time. He tried to imagine a life without her, without her smile and laughter, without her rosy cheeks and nervous muttering. He couldn’t. A life without her seemed almost impossible.

He imagined a future with her instead, and a thousand pictures would come to his mind. Her raising a child that would be as beautiful as her, her dancing with him on their children's name day, her having long conversations at night with him. He thought so easily about those things because that was what should’ve been; a long life by her side.

But now he was standing in front of everybody, crying and sighing with an agonizing pain on his chest. His voice refused to come out in the first two tries, but on the third, he cleared his throat and accepted his miserable future, without the woman he so deeply loved.

He took a deep breath, and finally said,

“Dracarys.”

[ftl-faster-than-life]

Trying to articulate the eldritch horror aspect of the Speedsters is really difficult because it's hard to put into words…You're Wally West, you're nineteen years old. You loved your deceased uncle more than almost anyone (except your aunt, but she's dead too.) You're working with a nutritionist to try to understand why your powers have changed since his death (you never needed to worry about starving to death in five minutes before.) She tells you something you don't want to hear: That power you're using came from that dead man. He wasn't human, not since before you met him, in being hit by lightning he became it. He was an energy source with a smiling face.

He was some kind of monster.

Because then he met you and you got hit by lightning, too, the accident was identical except it wasn't an accident, not really. He remade you in his image--not just with the silly tailored down costume you were happy to wear, proud to be like your hero. He connected you to him, fed you power. Made you into his companion because he was lonely in his inhumanity. Made you not-quite-human, too. You remember how much the idea that he wasn't entirely human haunted him and how he clung to the things that made him ordinary. Denial.

And now he's dead, and your powers are on the fritz, and you have two kinds of dreams: The ones where he rejects you and takes his powers back and you're left with nothing. And the other ones which are stranger (you don't have to unpack those first ones, really, the meaning is obvious.) You dream that you're talking to a dead man. He still cares about you, still wants to look after you, asks you about your week like he used to and tells you you're doing a good job, he's so proud of you. It's harder to believe these ones.

You keep looking for a way to fix your powers, you need to be faster but you can never quite push past a certain point. A man from the past tells you it's all in your head, you're afraid of being faster than a dead man, you don't want to replace him. You're damned if you're going to let anyone else do it, though. You push past that limit which you grudgingly acknowledge really was self-imposed. You nearly die anyway…but you're saved, last second, by a bolt of lightning.

You say thank you, because you know that was him.

You spend years getting faster, more powerful. You have a spiritual connection to the power that's unrivaled by anyone, past or present or future. You're the Fastest Man who Ever Lived. Sometimes you still see signs of intervention in your life, in other speedster's lives. He shows up for your cousin, then disappears again.

Then one day….he comes back. Not as a time traveler, not as a brief manifestation. He's alive and breathing and at first you feel pure relief… then you feel nervous.

What does it mean for you if he's alive?

The other shoe drops soon enough, you don't even get to the Welcome Home parties before the reveal: He was dragged out of the Speed Force by his worst enemy, who has remade himself in the process. He's not like you anymore, he's like him. They're unique, two of a kind. Connected, it turns out. It takes all of you to beat him this time.

Your uncle's got something on his mind, though--a murder over a decade old, his mother's. It's unnatural, a change to history written by his enemy. He's desperate to make it right. He wants to save her.

They fight. You're not there for this confrontation and afterwards, you aren't anywhere. He draws the entire Speed Force into himself and with it, he takes you. And your cousin, your kids, your mentor…Every other speedster.

You, your friends and family, all spend the next years in a strange state: Not alive, not dead, you never existed and no one remembers you. Then one day someone does--he does. He draws you out, fully formed and as you remember yourself (as he remembers you.) You fall into his arms and he holds you and you know the love you're feeling is real.

No one else remembers you at all at first, which isn't his fault it turns out. You're angry and you have every right to be but lashing out at him doesn't feel right either.

But you know he'll forgive you, so you let your helpless anger and grief break against that forgiveness.

Then someone, an enemy from an era you can't go back to, offers you a way to save your children. To get your life back.

All you have to do is destroy the power that is shared with you. Your uncle begs you to reconsider. He reasons with you. You can't help but see that for what it really is, a selfish plea for continued survival from that force.

You make the choice.

Because ever since you were nineteen, you've known your uncle was some kind of monster.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

an old friend, a new start {remus lupin}

plot: Fourteen years after graduating Hogwarts, you're offered a job to be the new Muggle Music Professor. Funnily enough, your old friend, Remus Lupin, is also offered a new job at Hogwarts that year.

character: remus lupin x female reader

note: this has potential to be multiple parts, if anyone's interested let me know cause i'd like to write more of it xx

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the carriage to look up at the large, looming castle in front of you. Hogwarts. The castle really hadn't changed at all. It was still strikingly beautiful and so intricately built. Dumbledore took a lot of care to maintain Hogwarts and its grounds and it showed. You lifted your trunk off of the ground and made your way through the grounds to the Great Hall.

The last time you were here was fourteen years ago, the day you graduated. How times had changed. When you were last here, you and your friends were carefree and wild, excited to see what life had in store for you. When there had once been six of you, now only half survived. You hadn't spoken to the other surviving members of the Marauders in years, well Sirius had been sent to Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew (and you believed it was also for betraying James and Lily too. You and Remus fell out of contact a year or two after Peter's supposed death and Sirius's imprisonment. Life got in the way and it was too hard. There were too many memories and it was too painful so the two of you lost contact.

You often wondered about Remus. He had been your closest friend once upon a time and at one point, you had been head over heels for him but he never knew that. You would wonder about his life, how he was dealing with his condition, if he ever settled down...

Little did you know you'd be finding out sooner rather than later.

Professor McGonagall welcomed you as you walked into the Great Hall, "Ah, (y/n), dear, how lovely to see you after all these years." She greeted with a warm smile. She remained the same, a few more wrinkles around her warm eyes but she was the same, "Or should I say Professor." She had a twinkle in her eye, "I always did like seeing our students come back to be Professors."

You smiled, "Thank you, Professor," you said gratefully, glad that your first interaction was with a friendly familiar face.

"Oh," she said with a sweep of her hand, "call me Minerva... How does it feel to be back?"

"It feels good to be back actually... A little strange and bittersweet." You told her, looking around, "Their memories haunt me every single day but it's more intense here." Minerva looked around the Great Hall, agreeing, "I remember my first day getting sorted into Gryffindor and sitting beside Lily... She was my first friend here before I met the rest."

Her smile was wide and her eyes were a dazzling bright green colour, clashing yet complimenting her orange hair perfectly, "Here," she said, patting the space on the bench beside her, "sit with me, will you?" You gladly sat beside her as you introduced yourselves to the other, "It's all so exciting isn't it? Overwhelming but it's exciting to be somewhere we all belong."

You shook yourself out of the memory and apologised to Minerva but she tutted and gave you a warm smile, "Don't apologise, dear. Keep those happy memories of them alive, all of them." Even Sirius. Even though he betrayed the Potters' ending up getting them and Peter killed, "Speaking of the past, I do have some potentially upsetting news to tell you. Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban recently," you nodded, you'd read all about it. You'd seen his face plastered everywhere, crazed and wild, "James and Lily's son, Harry, he's a third year at Hogwarts... As you know Sirius is the godfather of Harry Potter and we fear that Sirius may try and come to kill the last surviving member of the Potter family."

You nodded as she explained the precautions Hogwarts was taking, "Dementors from Azkaban will be guarding Hogwarts. My honest advice is to stay out of their way, the scary buggers." You laughed slightly, "Just... Be on your highest guard. I've warned Remus too. You two know Sirius better than anyone."

You frowned, "Remus?" You asked, "He's here?"

Minerva looked at you puzzled, "Yes. Sorry, dear, forgive me, I just assumed the two of you would still be in contact."

"No... We haven't seen each other for about a decade actually. It was too painful. Too many painful memories."

Minerva nodded, "Well I hope that him being here and with Sirius on the loose, it may rekindle your friendship once again. The two of you were always the best of friends." You were. You and Remus did everything together, "I don't usually like to gossip on students but seeing as you graduated fourteen years ago, I always did think the two of you would be good together." She smiled, a twinkle in her eye, as you blushed furiously, "Anyway, he's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Do you want me to show you where your classroom is?"

"Still fifth floor, right?" You asked her to which she nodded, "I think I should be able to find it myself but thank you, Minerva." It would take a while to get used to calling her that, "Once I'm settled, we should catch up some more." Minerva smiled and agreed and then you walked away.

"Professor Lupin's classroom is on the third floor," she called after you. You didn't have to turn around to know that she would be smirking.

Hogwarts was huge with lots of winding staircases that ended up going to different places but it was like muscle memory. Your legs just knew which route to take. Instead of taking the quickest route to your new classroom, you took a bit of a scenic tour, just wanting to soak up everything old and everything new.

The silliest of memories resurfaced as you walked around.

"Look, Moony!" James grinned as Remus approached the two of you, "Padfoot's going to jump down this staircase. He believes he can do it without hurting himself."

Remus looked to you and you just shrugged, "I tried to stop him but it's Sirius, Rem. We'll never be able to control him." (It ended with Sirius spending a night in the hospital).

You turned a corner, finding yourself in front of a painting that you remembered.

You'd just happened across her standing looking at the painting. It was only your second day so you stopped to see if she was okay. "It's crazy," a first year Lily Evans said with a wide smile, "I'm Muggleborn so this is still all quite new to me but it still amazes me that paintings move."

"My dad's a Muggle," you said to Lily, "I kind of had the best of both worlds. I knew about magic but also knew and grew up with a lot of Muggle stuff like Muggle music, I love Muggle music."

"Oh my goodness," Lily grinned, "me too! Who's your favourite?"

"I love The Beatles-"

"No way!" Her smile was contagious, bright and so happy, "Oh (y/n), we're going to be such good friends."

Then you went through a rarely used shortcut through a painting and through a narrow staircase.

Remus coughed, "I suspect this is seldom used given how dusty it is... How did you find out about this secret passageway?"

You laughed, "Rem, I quite genuinely fell through the painting and landed on the stairs. I went up them and they got me to the fourth floor much quicker! Trust the process. Maybe next time we should bring a brush and do a bit of housekeeping?"

After leaving the passageway you wiped your robes down, they had gathered a lot of dust. You wondered whether or not all the other secret passageways and secret rooms you had once hidden in were still accessible and hidden. You'd need to investigate soon. You headed up a spiral staircase and then after a short walk through a hallway, you were standing in front of a classroom which said in large golden painted letters: MUGGLE MUSIC. You smiled and slowly pushed the door open.

"Oh it's brilliant," you said to yourself, clapping with glee after putting your trunk down. It was quite run down, maybe not loved as well as it should've been but getting it back up and running shouldn't be too much of a challenge. You wandered around the classroom, a fresh lick of paint on the walls, some newer instruments and maybe some plants and the classroom would look a lot better. The instruments you had were in relatively good condition but luckily for you, you had plenty of instruments in much better condition in your trunk.

"I learned a new charm!" Sirius grinned, "Check this out." He swung his bag off of his shoulder and began pulling out various textbooks and things alike.

Peter glanced at you, "What's the charm?" He asked sheepishly, "So far you've just made a mess."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "Use your head, Wormtail! Look at the size of my bag and look at the amount of books I just pulled out! That's not all-" he stopped talking and then pulled out, "made sure to pack my handy dandy hat stand."

"You stole a bloody hat stand?!" Remus hissed but even he couldn't hide the smile from his face, "Where's it from?"

Sirius winked, "Just borrowing it, Moony... from Slughorn's office. Anyway... who wants to learn the charm?"

That charm was your second favourite thing you learned at Hogwarts, the first was the charm that Lily taught you afterwards to keep your luggage or bag or whatever you were carrying light, never weighing more than a pound. You lay your trunk on one of the tables, opening it taking out the various instruments you'd carefully packed away. You put them in the instruments cupboard, you'd sort it another day, but just now you wanted to go to your room.

Your office was in the room adjacent to the classroom and then in the room attached to that was your living area. A small bedroom complete with a double bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and then attached was a small kitchen and a bathroom. Your living space was small but more than enough. Your office was a desk, a chair and a few potted plants. There was a bookshelf with various books, a couch and a couple of tables and empty units. You would put your personal record player in here and also have one in the classroom but you would unpack your personal belongings soon. You sat on the bed as you looked around. You could hardly believe that this was your life now, that you were here once again... not only could you not believe that you were here again but so was Remus.

Remus.

You sat upright. He was already here, you knew he'd be in his classroom unpacking and getting ready for the term ahead. A bubble of nervousness suddenly appeared in your stomach as you stood and looked in the mirror that was on the wall. You looked tired but that was to be expected after a five hour journey. You smoothed out your hair and robes before leaving your classroom.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was on the third floor, you remembered exactly what it had once looked like. It was one of your favourite classes when you were a student, it was just fun learning new things and getting to practice magic.

It was then that you noticed someone familiar walking towards you. Inwardly you groaned but you plastered a smile on your face, "Fancy meeting you here, Severus."

Snape sneered at you, "(y/n)... How delightful." He had aged horribly. The same greasy hair, the same large pointed nose, the same dark beady eyes and the same scowl. It seemed he permanently scowled judging by the wrinkles on his forehead. In school, Snape was awful. He was rude, judgemental, bigoted and a bully. And yes, you would then agree that James and Sirius bullied him too but Severus had called his old best friend, Lily Evans, a mudblood and then acted as though he hated her whilst still pining over her. You just didn't like him and Snape, well, Snape didn't like anybody, "I just ran into the werewolf. Already asking me to concoct potions for his... time of the month." Always a cheap shot to make a joke about Remus's time of the month. It was Sirius's favourite thing to do once upon a time.

You nodded, "That's good of you to do that for him. I'm sure he appreciates it."

Snape looked at you displeased, "Obviously."

"Okay, great seeing you, Sev," you said quickly, needing away from him, "let's catch up soon?"

Snape scoffed, "No thank you."

"Ah," you said, patting his shoulder as you moved past him, "you've not changed at all, Sev. Always a pleasure!" Snape looked pissed off as you scampered past him but let's face it, he always looked pissed. You shuddered as you walked away. Fourteen years later and he still creeped you out.

You could hear chatter approaching and you realised that it was the students returning from their summer holidays, coming back to school. You straightened your robes one final time as you walked down the staircase to meet handfuls of older students who were walking up the stairs. You greeted them happily and most of them gave you at least a smile back. As you continued down the steps you saw-

"James?"

Your heart was in your throat, beating hard, as your stomach dropped. You stopped in the middle of the staircase as a young boy, third or fourth year, walked towards you. At the mention of his father's name, his head snapped to you. It was like looking through a window into the past. His hair was just as dark and just as messy. His grin was just as cheeky. He wore the same full moon glasses but his eyes... those were Lily Evans's eyes. You caught a glimpse of the lightening bolt scar on his forehead.

"Sorry, Harry, right?" You asked forcing yourself to smile, "I'm sorry, you just look so much like your father but-"

"I have my mother's eyes," Harry said with a nod and a smile, "Did you know them Professor...?"

"Oh (y/n). (y/n) (y/l/n). I'm the new Muggle Music Professor," you introduced yourself to him and his two, what you assumed to be, friends, "I was really good friends with your mother and father actually."

Harry's eyes lit up. All that poor boy wanted was to know about his parents, "You were? Professor do you think you could tell me about them?"

You stepped aside to let some other students pass, "Of course. Any time at all. My class is on the fifth floor, feel free to drop by whenever. How about we get settled in today and later this week you could come by? Bring your friends too if you wish," you gave a polite smile to Ron and Hermione, "Professor Lupin was also good friends with your parents, that's where I'm off to just now. To say hello to an old friend." Old friends and new starts.

The girl stuck out her hand which you shook gladly, "Hermione. Hermione Granger and this is Ronald Weasley."

The red haired boy rolled his eyes, "No one calls me Ronald, it's Ron, Hermione."

"All of us are taking Muggle Music actually so we'll be in your class." Hermione told you ignoring Ron.

"Yeah after you forced us to take your boring class-" Ron stopped realising that he was insulting your subject to your face, "I'm sorry, I'm sure it's not boring-" His cheeks turned bright pink, as did the tips of his ears.

You laughed, "That's alright. I assume it probably was boring but that'll change now that I'm here, I assure you, Ron. Anyway, I best let you three go to your Common Room and settle in. Come see me whenever you wish, all of you."

"Professor?" Harry said as you went to walk away, "You said Professor Lupin was a friend of my parents?" You nodded, explaining that you'd all been best friends at their age, "Do you think he would come too and tell me about my parents?"

You smiled, "I think that he'd love that, Harry. I'll say to him and we'll arrange something, alright?" You nodded at them once more before disappearing down the stairs and along the corridor. You hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby and goodness he was James's double just with Lily's eyes. Lily's lovely kind eyes. They'd be so proud. You had been so preoccupied you hadn't realised your feet had already taken you to the DADA classroom until you had stopped outside it and there he was. He was unpacking a box of trinkets onto his desk.

"Rem," you said quietly but his keen ears heard your voice and he stopped.

He raised his head and a wide smile grew on his face, "(y/n)," he said back, just as soft, "What are you doing here?"

"Gone and got myself a job. I'm the new Muggle Music Professor." Remus smiled. He knew about your love for Muggle music. It was something the two of you bonded over since Remus's mother was a Muggle too.

All the nerves you'd had about seeing him again vanished as he welcomed you into his arms. You forgot how tall he was, how he still towered over you. Your head was on his chest as you breathed deeply. He smelled the same; coffee and chocolate. A scent that was so comforting to you, so warm and friendly; he smelled like home. You liked that no matter how much time passed, he was still the same dorky Remus you once knew.

He pulled back, holding you at arms length to drink you in, "You look incredible."

You grinned, thanking him as your cheeks burned furiously. Life had not been kind to him, you could tell from the tattered clothes and the beaten up trunk in the corner. He looked in dire need of a sleep but he was still handsome, a little wearier and gaunt with a few extra wrinkles but those warm, honey brown eyes were the same. His scars were more silvery now, like his hair which was still light brown but had greys scattered amongst. He was still as handsome as you remembered but your heart panged knowing that life hadn't been as kind to him.

"So do you," you said with a smile.

Remus rolled his eyes, "Oh, hush," he laughed, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Uh, yeah, good... Yeah. You?" Now it was time for the awkwardness to come.

Remus shrugged, "Can't complain now that I'm here."

"I met Snape," you told him after a moment of pregnant pause. You recounted the whole encounter, making Remus laugh loudly at how you ended the conversation.

"Bet he's gone off to dip his cloaks in detergent now that you've touched him."

"Still won't wash his hair though, will he?" You teased making Remus laugh again. That booming loud laughter that you loved to hear when you were sixteen.

When the laughter died down, you said, "Have you seen him yet? Harry, I mean." You sat on one of the tables and Remus sat on the one across from you.

He nodded, "Uncanny, isn't it?"

"I called him James. It was like looking into the past but with-"

"Lily's eyes."

You smiled, "They'd be so proud, wouldn't they?"

Remus sighed fondly, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "Oh you know that wherever they are Prongs is bragging all about their Chosen One of a son." You laughed and Remus's smile grew upon hearing your laughter. He'd missed hearing that sound.

"I missed you," he murmured, "I apologise for not being a very good friend."

You shook your head, "I'm sorry too... It was just too painful, Rem. It hurt to see you after... after losing everyone else, after Sirius." Remus nodded, "It still hurts even twelve years later. To see you was to not see them; a constant reminder that they're gone and that we're still here..."

"Survivor's guilt," Remus spoke quietly, "I'd went to therapy when I could afford it... That's what she called it." The two of you were silent for a while before he spoke, "And apparently Sirius is back to kill the last of the Potters'..."

"What happened?" You sighed, "How could he?"

Remus shook his head, "I've been asking myself that since it happened."

You sat up straighter, nudging his knee with your foot, "When I ran into Harry I'd told him that I was close with his parents, said that you were too... He's asked if we could both sit with him and tell him about his parents. The poor boy just wants to know who they were. Would you?"

"Course," Remus said, "Just let me know when and where."

You looked around the classroom. It was still pretty much the same as you remembered it to be just with added decoration on the ceiling, "It's not changed much," your voice was quiet, "it's nice to be back."

Remus stood and extended his hand to you, "Would you like to go do some exploring?"

You took his hand as you grinned, jumping down from the desk, "Oh, I'd love nothing more. Lead the way, Moony!"

And all of a sudden the two of you were sixteen again running around the corridors of Hogwarts keeping your friends in line.

"You're my best friend," Remus said, words slurred from the firewhisky. You were all laying on the floor in the Room of Requirement. James and Sirius were snoring loudly, Peter was hiccupping in a corner and you and Rem were on the floor facing each other, "I fancy you but you're my best friend first and forever." You giggled as he continued, "Don't ever leave me, I'd miss you too much, (y/n)."

As you walked with him, with the memory repeating in your mind, you couldn't help but latch onto his arm, head on his shoulder. His cheeks tinged pink as you did this so casually. Maybe things hadn't changed that much. Maybe things would be like how they once were. "I missed you, Remus... I think good things are in store for us both this year."

Oh please be right.

[mellkellyismyhero]

Lockwood and Co. and Haunting the Narrative

Lockwood and Co. is a masterclass in writing characters that haunt the narrative.

Lockwood's parents and sister are, I think, the obvious example of characters that haunt the narrative. Lucy, Lockwood, and George live in their house. Jessica's room is a huge point of contention and distrust between Lockwood and Lucy. There are constant, constant mentions of how cluttered the house is with Lockwood's parents' stuff. Lockwood's entire character and motivations are built around how each member of his family died.

But you know who else completely haunts the narrative, even better than Lockwood's family?

Lucy's friends.

(No, not the skull.)

We are told that Lucy's old team died horribly in chapter 2 of The Screaming Staircase. They are brought up exactly one more (important) time- in book 3, when Lucy and Holly are using their respective traumas to yell at each other. Otherwise, Lucy never talks about them. Lockwood and George don't ask her about them. The skull and Kipps don't seem to know about them, iirc.

But a lot of Lucy's personal relationships and character traits throughout the books (her being reckless enough to rival Lockwood, her initial hatred of Holly, even her friendship with the skull) can be explained, I think, by the fact that she watched all of her friends being brutally massacred at fourteen.

I mean, why does she tolerate the skull long enough for her to try to fight multiple grown adults to save him? Because he's the only friend she has who can't die. Because he can watch her back and offer advice in a way Jacobs never could. (The quality of the skull's advice and ability to watch Lucy's back definitely varies but ultimately, there's a reason Lucy trusts him enough to keep bringing him on cases.)

Why does she hate Holly? Because she's found a comfortable place in Lockwood and Co., which Holly innocently disrupts, but also because Lucy has had a bad experience with people in charge ignoring her opinions. Is it any wonder that she overreacted to Lockwood making a unilateral decision about the future of the company, when Lockwood and Co. is supposed to be a team without any one person making big decisions without taking input from the others first?

Fuck, why does Lucy leave Lockwood and Co.? Because she thinks she's going to watch Lockwood die, and the narrative tells us it's because she thinks Lockwood is reckless, which he is, but... it's also because Lucy has already watched people she loved and trusted with her life die. She knows, intimately, that she cannot save the people she loves, because she has already failed to do that. So she leaves, because if she leaves and he dies, she can tell herself it isn't her fault, because she doesn't think she could have saved him anyway.

Lockwood is the way he is because of his parents' and sister's deaths, which is pointed out pretty explicitly in the narrative. But Lucy is the way she is because of the deaths of her team before the story began, which absolutely no one in the narrative even mentions. To be fair, it's not like Lucy does the kind of soul searching it would take to figure that out. 

The way that Lucy's dead friends haunt the narrative is honestly impressive. If Lucy's team hadn't died, but she moved to London anyway, I'm not sure if we would have gotten the same story.

Sure, the large beats would be the same- I can't imagine a version of Lucy that wouldn't risk her life to save people from ghosts- but I think Lucy's relationships with Holly, the skull, Lockwood, Kipps, and maybe even George would be different. And I think she would make different choices. Maybe she wouldn't be so willing to push her powers to her fullest extent if she wasn't traumatized by having failed to correctly ID the ghost that killed her team. Maybe she would be more willing to welcome Holly if she didn't associate Holly with the feeling of having no control over her life. Maybe she wouldn't have joined Lockwood and Co. if she hadn't been so badly burned by the concept of having adult supervisors.

For people who basically never show up in the narrative, don't have big plot importance like Lockwood's family does, and are mentioned all of twice in five books, Lucy's old team sure does affect her character clear through book three, and probably all the way through book five.

I'm not claiming that the core of Lucy's character is her friends' deaths. Lucy herself barely ever thinks about it. It's a minor element of her character. But it is definitely an element of her character, and it's an important one that I think needs to be considered.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Carry Your Heart: Danny's Arc Part 1

So I've collected all my snippets from the 1000 follower ask game (and added 800+ words). So enjoy the next part of Carry Your Heart!

Story Summary: Danny meets a ghost, Jason, in the Realms one day when cursing out Chaucer and Mr. Lancer both. Jason is determined to make him see the error of his ways.

And it turns out he can offer his help in more than just English.

They get closer and closer. Then they have their first kiss. Jason, still haunted by his own death, isn't willing to date Danny if he can't grow up by his side. He doesn't want to hold his boyfriend back or face their inevitable breakup when Danny gets too old for him. And he misses his family more than he can say.

He goes to seek out Desiree to make a wish.

First, Previous

Word Count: 2.6k

-----

Danny floated back and forth—pacing without legs—in front of the door to the examination room. Frostbite was in there with Jason. Other yetis rushed in and out, most able to spare him nothing more than a sympathetic look as they hurried off to get some medicine or another expert or a new device.

He just wanted to know.

What had happened to Jason? He’d been fine the last time they’d seen each other. It’d been perfect. Jason had enjoyed the date and even kissed him and he was supposed to be there again today. He just wanted his boyfriend.

He landed heavily on the floor, and buried his face in his knees, back pressed against the wall just waiting for someone, anyone, to tell him anything.

But it was hours more before Frostbite came out. And when he did, his face was grim.

“I’m sorry, great one. We cannot determine what has happened to your companion nor how to help him.”

Danny core stuttered, and he launched himself at the yeti, wrapping him in a hug. “No, you have to be able to do something. Please. He can’t—” His breath caught. He wouldn’t finish the sentence. Voicing it would make it true.

Frostbite hugged him back, his thick arms and fur made his hugs the most comforting ones Danny had ever felt. “We will, of course, continue to research Jason’s condition and try new treatments. However…”

Danny tensed and sniffed, trying to keep himself from succumbing to tears again. “However?”

“Jason is a fire core. The Far Frozen is not an appropriate environment for him while he is in such a delicate state. A few hours, even a day or so, every few weeks will not hurt and will allow us to try new therapies. But he will not thrive if he stays here longer than that.”

Danny lost the fight and cried into his mentor’s chest. Where else could he take Jason? Where would he be safe? What would happen if he brought him home and his parents found him? Would they even recognize what he was?

Before too long, though, Danny pulled away. “Will he be safe here for just a bit longer? I need to go home. See if, see if I can keep him safe.”

“Of course, Great One. We will watch over your friend for as long as you need us to. And we will prepare a heated chamber for him to rest in. But I urge you to return quickly.”

Danny nodded. “I will. Will he… Does he understand what’s going on? Can I say goodbye?”

Frostbite stepped back and placed a giant paw on Danny’s back. “We do not know what he may be aware of while he is in this state. But you are, of course, welcome to say your goodbyes. If he is aware, I am certain he will appreciate them.”

Frostbite led him into the room. Jason, appearing as a mostly blackened coal, his fire only barely visible deep in his core, was floating over a pedestal, three other yetis around him taking notes on tablets.

“The Great One wishes to speak to his suitor,” announced Frostbite when they entered. “Please give them some privacy.”

The yetis all murmured their agreements and filed out, each wishing luck and good health and condolences to Danny as they did.

“I shall be just outside. Take as long as you need.”

“Is there anything I should know? Will I hurt him if I touch him or anything?”

Frostbite shook his head. “Be gentle, of course, but there is little you can do by accident that will worsen his condition.” He patted Danny on the head, then followed his people out of the room.

For a minute, Danny was frozen. Jason was just a few feet away, but Danny couldn’t bring himself to move closer. He didn’t want to do this. Why did this have to happen now? When things were finally going well for him?

Danny sniffed again and floated forward. “Hey, Jay,” he started. “Um, Frostbite says that he and his yetis can’t figure out what happened or how to help you.” Danny’s voice cracked, but he kept going. “I’m… I’m gonna do what I can to help you. Find the people or medicine that can help.” He reached out a hand and gently brushed the edge of Jason’s core. “I just… I need to make sure I can keep you safe, first. I’m gonna, I’m gonna tell my parents. And if, when, they accept me, I’m gonna come back for you and bring you home.

“And then my parent’s can help find a cure for you, too. They’re brilliant, you know,” Danny choked back a sob. “With them and Frostbite working together? We’ll have you fixed up right away. So hang tight, okay? I’ll be back for you soon.” Danny leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to Jason’s core. The surface was rough; after pulling away, he rubbed at his lips, half expecting to see soot on his gloves. But they were clean. With a sigh, he turned and left the room, only glancing back once when he got to the door.

“Great One, are you ready to depart?” asked Frostbite from the hall.

Danny peeled his eyes away from his boyfriend and nodded. “Yeah. I am. I’ll be back soon, though. I promised.”

“I have full faith in you. I wish you safe travels.”

Danny gave a half-smile. “Thanks. I just need to make sure I have a safe place to take him. Once I confirm that, I’ll be back to collect Jason.”

“I shall have sentries posted to watch for your return.”

With one last thanks, Danny left.

The trip to the portal seemed both endless and like it was over in no time. Rumors had spread from the mad dash he’d taken to the Far Frozen and no one bothered him on his return.

And then he was in front of the portal. With a deep breath, he turned invisible and crossed over. His parents weren’t in the lab. Good. That meant he had a few minutes. He could get Jazz, let Sam and Tucker know what had happened. Prepare for what was going to come next.

He transformed and made his way upstairs. No parents in the living room or kitchen.

“Jazz?” he called out.

Footsteps echoed from upstairs, then Jazz was hanging over the railing. “Danny! Welcome back. You were gone quite a while. Get up to trouble with your boyfriend?” she grinned at him.

Danny didn’t know what expression he made at her innocent question, but Jazz’s smile disappeared.

“What’s wrong?”

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it again. Where did he even start? He rubbed at his eyes and focused on just breathing. “Jay, he’s… Something happened, Jazz.”

Suddenly Jazz was in front of him and hugging him tight. “It’s okay, Danny. We’ll figure it out. What happened?”

He clutched at her shirt, just trying to keep from breaking down in tears again. “Jason, he… He’s in a coma, Jazz. Frostbite and his doctors can’t figure out what happened or how to fix him.”

Jazz ran her fingers through his hair. “Oh, Danny. I’m so sorry. I’m sure they’ll figure it out, though. They’re the experts.”

Danny shook his head. “They can’t keep him there. It’s the Far Frozen and Jason has a fire core. It’s not safe for him to be there when he’s so weak, Frostbite said.”

Jazz let out a steady breath and squeezed tighter. “What are you going to do?”

Danny pulled away. “Jason is trapped as just his core. I can’t leave him in the Far Frozen and there’s no one else I trust to be able to keep him safe. I have to keep him here, with me.”

Jazz bit her lip. “Danny…”

Danny held up his hand. “I know what you’re thinking. If mom and dad found a ghost core in my room or my backpack? No. I’m not going to risk Jason like that. So I have to tell them. Once they know, they’ll accept me. And I’ll convince them that Jason is harmless and it’ll be fine. It’ll be just fine.” Danny clutched his hands into fists and crossed his arms to hide the fact that he was shaking. His parents would accept him.

They had to.

Jazz stared at him for a long moment and Danny had no clue as to what she was thinking. But then she sighed and ran a hand through her own hair. “Okay. Okay, we’ll do this your way. It’ll be fine. You’re right. But we’re getting Sam and Tucker here first and we’re putting together a go-bag. We’re not going to need it. But we’ll have it.”

Danny forced a smile. “We’re not going to need it.”

“Now, text your friends. Mom and Dad will be home in an hour or two.”

Danny did as told. As soon as he hit send, his phone started vibrating with two incoming calls. He hesitated just a moment before answering as a three-way call. “Jason’s been hurt,” he said, interrupting their shouted questions. “He’s been forced into his core. Frostbite can’t figure out how to help him and since he’s a fire core, he can’t stay in the Far Frozen. I want to bring him back here and keep him safe with me—”

“But your parents,” finished Sam.

“Yeah.” Danny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So I’m gonna tell them. Can you come?”

“Of course, dude!” exclaimed Tucker. “Almost out the door now. I’ll be there in ten.”

“It’ll be twenty for me,” said Sam. Then she hummed. “Maybe thirty. There’s some things I want to get, just in case.”

“Thanks, Sam, Tucker.”

“You should know by now,” said Tucker, “you don’t even have to ask with us.”

“Yeah, dummy, we’ve got your back. Be there soon as I can.”

Danny hung up and gave Jazz another shaky smile. “They’re on their way. Tucker will be here in ten, Sam might take a bit longer because she wants to grab some things.”

Jazz nodded. “Good. I’m going to start putting together your go-bag. Is your backpack in your room?”

Danny nodded and Jazz ran up the stairs. He followed her at a walk, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating hard in his chest or the way his knees felt like they were going to give out with every step. His parents loved him, they did.

It was going to be fine. He’d tell them, they’d hug him, and he’d go get Jason and come home.

When he got to his room, Jazz had dumped all his school books and binders and papers out of his backpack and was raiding the first aid kit under his bed to transfer as much of it as she could into the bag.

“There you are, get two large water bottles and all the breakfast bars from the pantry. And whatever other food you can find that is both high-calorie and easy to pack.”

He turned and walked back downstairs. Nothing felt real, he almost felt numb and he couldn’t muster up the urgency Jazz had as he sifted through the pantry and grabbed the water bottles.

That was how Tucker found him, staring at the pantry with a stack of snacks on the counter next to him.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

Danny just shrugged and pulled out a box of cereal. He tasted some; it was stale. He put it back.

Tucker pulled him into a hug. “Hey, there, Danny. It’s going to be okay. Frostbite will be able to help Jason, and we’ll be by your side as you talk to your parents.”

Danny hugged Tucker back, trying to just keep his breath steady and his hands from shaking. “Jazz is upstairs. We should go.”

“I’ll help you carry everything. And I’ve got some jerky to add to the pile, meat is the most important food group, after all!”

That finally caught his attention and he pulled away with a small smile. “I won’t need it, you know. Jazz is just being paranoid.”

Tucker frowned, but didn’t contradict him. “Then let’s go make her feel better.”

“Okay.”

“Also!” exclaimed Tucker. “I’ve got a new phone for you. This one uses ectoplasm to connect to my devices and from there, can connect to anyone else. It should work even in the Realms.”

That finally broke through some of the numbness surrounding Danny. He cracked a small, but sincere, smile. “You’ll have to explain to me how you managed that.”

Tucker laughed and immediately launched into his explanation as they brought the food back upstairs to join Jazz.

Jazz gave them a tight smile when they walked in. “Hey, Tucker. What did you get, Danny?”

“Like you said, all the protein and breakfast bars. Tuck’s got some jerky he can add to the pile.” And last, Danny dropped the box of cosmic brownies. “And I grabbed these, too. No one else will eat them.”

Jazz stared at the brownies for a long time, and Danny thought she was going to scold him for grabbing something frivolous. But she shook her head and packed them without comment. “Thanks, Tucker,” she said when she grabbed the bag of jerky next.

“Tucker made me a phone,” said Danny. “One that should work, even in the Realms. He was just telling me about it.”

This time, Jazz’s smile was much more genuine. “Really? How’s that work?”

“So, as I was telling Danny, the phone is connected to my computer through ectoplasm. It took a long time to figure out how to do it, but they will always be connected to each other now. Then, through my computer, it can connect to other computers or even the phone network. Gives it access to the internet and cell towers and your service will be as good as mine.”

Jazz shook her head. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Tucker blushed. “Uh, well. It’s really not a big deal.”

Jazz held up a hand. “No, it is a big deal. Thank you.”

Danny looked around his room, cataloging all his belongings. His skateboard leaned against the wall next to his bed. The model rockets on his bookshelf. Then his eyes landed on his old, beat-up copy of Canterbury Tales. He walked over as Jazz and Tucker continued to talk and took down the book.

He flipped it open and was faced with the comments Jason and he’d written in the margins. Jason, cheering on the Wife of Bath or scoffing at the Knight. Jason, using modern slang to improve the old-fashioned translation. Jason, doodling a little star when Danny finally got something on his own.

He blinked and a tear tracked down his face, then another. He wiped at his cheeks and closed the book. “Jazz,” he said as he sat next to them on the floor, “pack this, too.”

“Danny…” she started as she saw the book. But then she took in his expression and she sighed. “Of course. I managed to get two outfit changes in your bag, four pairs of boxers. A good amount of medical supplies. And all the food you brought up. We’ll get the book in there, too. Anything else you’ll need?”

Downstairs, the front door slammed and all three of them tensed.

“Just me!” shouted Sam, followed by the sound of her combat boots echoing on the stairs.

Jazz let out a relieved laugh and the rest of them relaxed.

“I got what I wanted to give you!” said Sam as she pushed her way into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She tossed a wallet to Jazz who opened it and gasped.

“Sam, this is too much!”

Sam shrugged. “I’ve been saving it up. My parents won’t even notice, just had to stop by an ATM on the way here.” She flopped onto the ground and wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “So how are we gonna do this?”

-----

Let me know what you think!

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[symbioticsimplicity]

Baby punk El this and baby punk El that. I love her to death but she's blossoming into someone else. So what about baby punk Steve?

Imagine Steve who's grown so much he feels like he's outgrown most of his previous interests and likes. Its hard to really fixate on cars and sports when every time you look at a car you remember hitting Max's brother with one, and baseball bats will forever remind you of fighting with one. Steve isn't remotely the same person he used to be, so who is he now?

Imagine Steve trying on all manners different ideals and outfits, flitting from one friend's style to another as he tries to find where he fits.

Nothing really clicks though. Nancy is too similar to what he already was, Robin's style only really suits her, Jonathan's is kinda... basic, Argyle just isn't the vibe really, and the kids are still coming into their own too. 

That leaves Eddie. 

Eddie who Steve could not be more different from, ostensibly. 

But when Steve tells Eddie about what he's going through and what his goal is, Eddie takes him under his wing immediately. 

He starts taking Steve into more metalhead spaces, lets him get to know what the community is actually like (They're mostly old friends of Wayne's, a biker group he used to ride with that pretty much adopted Eddie when he was younger too. They're also largely responsible for how Eddie is today). Steve is surprised by how welcoming they are, and how easily he gets along with them all. Since he's still relatively young and new to the scene, he's the group baby for once. 

They become another pseudo family to him, though one that he doesn't have to constantly worry about protecting, rather one that protects him (Finally the baby instead of the baby sitter.) Especially after the night they got him drunk and he shared a "funny" anecdote about his parents forgetting him at home when they went on a two week vacation (They all silently agreed that if they ever meet the Harringtons, its on sight). They're the ones that help him really come to terms with how shitty his home life actually is, the ones that help him channel the anger that comes with that revelation.

Its still not quite what he was aiming for but he loves his new found family. And hey he does actually like this. Even some of the music, to Eddie's utter delight.

Steve slowly begins collecting bits of clothing that suit this new change in his life some of them he's stolen from Eddie and it makes him feel more settled in his skin.

But the first moment he finds what he's been looking for comes from what was supposed to be a joke.

One day when they're hanging out, Eddie sings David Bowie's Rebel Rebel to Steve, jokingly, but Steve immediately resonates with the lyrics. He begs Eddie to play him the whole song (he has a Bowie vinyl stashes under his bed, what kind of gay would he be if he didn't??) and when he does he wants to listen to it over and over again. 

He starts picking up bits of Bowie's style too. Starts using Robin's eyeliner to doodle a couple little stars by his eyes when she's around, sometimes he'll borrow Nancy's a lip gloss and dab a little bit on his lips. Eddie starts calling him "Pretty Boy" instead of "Big Boy", and Stevie instead of Steve and he loves it.

The second huge revelation comes when he sees an actual punk in real life. 

The spikes, the color, the attitude, the makeup, all of it calls to Steve like a siren song. It takes everything he has to calmly walk up to the punk in question and ask them about their style, about their scene. They happily explain (punks and metalheads are practically cousins, and Steve is dressed almost exclusively out of Eddie's closet that day) and Steve falls in love with it immediately.

Its such a good mixture of the bright, energetic style that’s Steve's underlying personality, along with the sharpness hes taken on since the Upside-Down invaded his life. Something about having spikes on his clothes is comforting to him, like having his nailbat close at hand without the implicit threat it carries. 

The first thing he does is transform his letterman jacket into a punk jacket. Eddie helps him design it, and its an elaborate testiment to the things Steve has done and has been through. The kids help make buttons and pins and patches for it too, each new one like a medal bestowed on him for his bravery and his service to them over the years. 

He then swaps out his running shoes for combat boots which take a little getting used to since they're heavy but it feels right. They sit tighter on him and he finds it reassuring. He could also knock out a fucking window with them, which he finds out by accident so that's a definite plus.

He keeps his blue jeans but stops replacing them when they rip and tear. Its part of the style and Eddie loves to play with the little bits of skin that peak through the holes. 

He starts wearing actual makeup here and there and finds that he really likes it. The eyeliner makes his eyes pop in a way that everyone finds distracting and its fun. Plus Robin and Eddie both sit in his lap when they apply it for him which is a bonus. 

The only thing that stays the same is the hair (give or take a couple streaks of color here and there). It suits him and the change in aesthetic doesn't really affect his hair. If anything it actually kinda makes more sense. He looks like a greaser but more aggressive and he loves it. (Steve might not have chosen to become a warrior, but its definitely a part of him by now, and a part that has kept his loved ones safe over the years. He can grieve what it cost him and still love it for what it gave him too.)

His parents however do not love it. Not that he sees them often enough to really care what they think anymore, but the one time they catch him home his mother nearly faints and his father gets so angry it takes Steve back to being a helpless child again for a moment. 

He accuses him of all kinds of things, (ruining their reputation, embarrassing them, disappointing God, you name it) but its not until he starts blaming Eddie for the changes to Steve's persona and attitude that he snaps. 

Steve lectures his father like he would one of his kids, because he's acting like one of them. He doesn't even realized he's gone into full Babysitter mode until he sees his Mother's face. He's just so used to being the mature adult in any given situation it came naturally. 

His mother to his endless surprise takes his side, tells his father he's clearly a grown man now and he can make his own choices. His father somehow looks even more shocked than Steve feels. 

Steve doesn't rekindle his relationship with them, but they have an understanding. Which is better than he'd dared hope they'd ever have.

Steve Harrington is a punk, and he absolutely loves it. He has a family of metalheads that adore him and herd of children are somewhere in the middle and forming their own identities. He has a best friend who makes up her own damn rules, and a handful of friends who probably wouldn't mind the rules even if they knew what they were. And he's got a boyfriend who's helped him grow into his favorite version of himself yet.

[whchenlvr]

Hi, I absolutely loved your Weak Hero collections. There are just so few of them in here, and you did such an amazing job capturing their personalities. I'm a great sucker for angst, so if requests are open, and you're comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could do a scenario where Y/N gets seriously hurt while taking the hit for them? Like they get in between and get stabbed/punched/near death? Basically, it's their fault you get hurt?

You can write for any, but I'd really like a Wolf Keum one...

Thank you tons and absolutely loved your writing style :p

YES omg i’ve been wanting to write angst and i LOVEEE wolf. THANK YOU SO MYCH

when you get seriously hurt ;

weak hero x gn!reader

wolf keum. stabbed

➤ you had a bad feeling. you tried convincing wolf not to leave that night, but he didn’t listen. when did he ever?

➤ the union was never safe, but recently, the violence has gotten more extreme. you’d witnessed old friends of yours falling into the fighting scene and ending up in the hospital

➤ you even caught yourself waiting by the front door until you see your boyfriend through the window and have to stop yourself from running out to greet him

➤ you’re doing just that one evening, watching, when you see wolf’s purple hair appear. you’re about to welcome him in when something behind him catches your eye

➤ without thinking, you throw the door open and run out to him. wolf is too distracted by your presence to notice the masked man behind him with a knife. “wolf, look out!”

➤ you just barely shove him out of the way when you feel a sharp pain in your side. you instantly fall to your knees, and you can tell wolf hesitates on whether to grab you or chase the man who did this, not realizing you’d just been stabbed

➤ when he does realize what’s going on, wolf would just stare at you with wide eyes

➤ his panic response is always fight, never flight, but he can’t fight this. he stands over you, frozen, for a few moments before calling for help and dropping to your side

➤ “you okay?” he’d ask in a distance voice, more for himself than you, but you know from all the times of cleaning wolf up what to do in a situation like this

➤ you’d have to take wolf’s hands in yours and press them against your stab wound, trying your very hardest to keep calm in this situation, since you can tell by the daze in wolf’s eyes that he’s in shock and won’t be much help

➤ “you’re not going to die. you’re fine,” wolf would repeat, and you’d just nod and focus on your breathing. “i’m fine. you can’t get rid of me this easy.”

donald na. shot

➤ you and donald had been walking home from a date one evening when you noticed someone following you

➤ when you move to warm donald, he only places a hand over yours, catching your eye and shaking his head to signal “no”

➤ that’s when you start to panic, because donald isn’t the type of person to back down or step away from a fight. you assumed it was because you were with him, but donald had seen the light catch on the follower’s hand and knew that this wasn’t something he could punch his way out of

➤ you’d just passed a corner when donald suddenly shoved you forward and turned back to tackle the follower. he had him pinned, weapon tossed to the side, and looked back at you when his eyes widened. “y/n!”

➤ but you’re frozen when you hear something click behind you. there were two of them.

➤ you barely have time to scream when the person pulls the trigger, and white flashes before your eyes as you fall to the ground

➤ donald wastes no time jumping off of the first man to run to you, ignoring the sound of him running away as he holds you in his arms and presses both hands harshly against your shoulder

➤ donald is calculated. he is talented and skilled in fighting. he doesn’t know how to keep calm against a bullet wound in the person he loves most

➤ he’d be too afraid to pull his hands off of the wound to use his phone to call for help, and thankfully a helpful pedestrian would run over and call for you instead

➤ donald would ride in the ambulance with you the entire way there, keeping you talking and laughing as he tried to get himself to stop shaking

gray yeon. glass cut

➤ typically, gray is aware of his surroundings at all times during a fight. your presence threw him off guard and wasn’t something he took into account

➤ you didn’t mean to be there. you had almost been home when you realized you’d forgotten one of your notebooks in your desk and turned back to retrieve it from the school. it wasn’t your intention to stumble upon a fight

➤ you can tell right away that something is wrong. everyone looks too tense, like they’re all afraid of more than just a few bruises

➤ then you see it. on the ground is a boy you recognize from your 1st period, laying in a pool of blood too big to be from fists

➤ there’s another, taller boy standing above him with something clutched tightly in his fist. when he realizes what he’d done, his hands tremble and he runs away from the group. runs right toward you

➤ it was clear by his face that he was scared. it was obvious that this was an accident, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time

➤ you move too slow as you step out of his way, and pain flares in your middle as the broken shard of glass sliced into you

➤ it takes no time at all for you to lose your balance as blood seeps into your once clean white uniform shirt

➤ you were so distracted on trying to apply pressure to your wound that you didn’t even notice gray sprinting toward you, his eyes wet with worry

➤ “what happened, what happened?” he’s repeating his words like a mantra as he falls to your side as assesses the situation. you can tell he’s trying to be brave, but there are tears rolling down his cheeks as he desperately covers your hands with his

➤ he’d be a trembling mess, his mind completely jumbled as thought of stephan fill his head. how he couldn’t help him. he wasn’t about to make the same mistake with you, too

➤ gray would tear the sleeve from his jacket to wrap around your wound and keep pressure with one hand as he calls an ambulance with the other

ben park. ganged up on. beaten

➤ ben can usually handle himself well. even when he’s outnumbered, his focus is only on himself and the men fighting him. not you

➤ the two of you would be walking home from a date one evening when a group of new union members trying to impress donald na surround you

➤ ben would instinctively pull you close to him, and you can’t help but shrink back when you notice how his face hardens and his chest puffs out

➤ “you’re big ben, right?” “…” “so you are! we figured, you know, if we rough you up a little, maybe we’ll get on donald’s good side!”

➤ you weren’t that afraid until more of them started trickling in around you, and soon a group of rowdy teenagers had formed around you and your boyfriend

➤ when the first kid charges, ben knocks him to the ground with a single strike. you aren’t sure what these boys thought they could do, but as more approached, you started worrying for ben

➤ thankfully, he’d been teaching you basic self defense, but you’d never had to use it in real life as he’d always been there to protect you

➤ it happened so fast. more and more kept appearing, and soon ben was overwhelmed. you fought off as many as you could, but when one of the boys threw a brick at the back of your head, you were done and taking kick after kick

➤ ben only noticed when he realized how quiet you’d gotten. when he sees you on the ground, not moving, all he’d see is red

➤ less than a minute later, you’d be in his arms with your body pressed against his chest as he runs to the nearest hospital, begging you to be okay

[dreamwatch]

Echoes and Silence, Patience and Grace

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #4 - Prompt: Eddie | Word Count: 997 | Rating: T | CW: mention of abusive parent, mention of death of a parent, language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Angst with a happy ending, rock star Eddie Munson, Introspective Eddie Munson, character study | AO3

****

It’s an odd thing, to be moulded by hate. To know that the person you are now has been shaped by anger where most are shaped by love.

He doesn’t think about it a lot, dwelling on old hurts does no one any good according to Uncle Wayne, but it hits him like a sudden gust of wind the moment he passes the Welcome To Hawkins sign. 

He does this once a year if he can, though sometimes less if he’s touring. When he first started coming back, Wayne was still here in that shitty trailer the government gave him to replace the other shitty trailer they destroyed. They were blink and you’ll miss him visits, in at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast with his uncle, then a quick drive through town before getting the fuck out. People still looked at him like shit. Resentment and hatred, squeezing him, making him all hard edges and sharp words, compressing him until he had to leave. Steve says it made a diamond out of him. But Steve’s a romantic fucker so it doesn’t count.

The hate was there long before poor Chrissy Cunningham died in his trailer. It’s not hard to pinpoint the moment everything changed. His mother’s death was like a finger snap; his life has been a collection of before and afters, but this was the first. A happy family broken down to a sad man who couldn’t care for his child, and a little boy who had to grieve for both of his parents, the living and the dead.

His mother worked in Melvalds until a few months before she died. Joyce Byers got the job she left behind. Maybe that’s why she turned a blind eye to him stealing when he was a kid. Melvalds is gone now, a deli touting organic produce in it’s place. He takes a picture on his phone to send back to Steve so they can laugh about it later. Steve doesn’t come with him on these trips; they’re not out and the less they’re seen together in certain places the better. Though they’ve been talking about it lately, since Halford came out. Maybe one day.

He doesn’t really know why he keeps coming back. It feels more like duty at this point. He doesn’t really remember his mother anymore. Just the memory of the memory, the idea of her. 

He swings his rental car past the high school, the bane of his existence for six fucking years, and all for nought. There are happy memories here, though they’re few and far between. Nights playing Dungeons and Dragons with his friends, preaching his sermons from the dining room tables. An awkward audition that changed his life forever. 

Maybe he comes back to try and remind himself of the time before the hate. Before life became painful in an ever increasing number of ways. Before his mother left him in the care of a man that became an abusive bully. (He doesn’t see it as abuse, never really has. Just his dad being his dad and Eddie being Eddie and the two of them rubbing each other the wrong way. But he had a therapist for a while in LA when things were going to shit and they kept calling it abuse, and well, it stuck. He’s a whole new man.)

Then there was that last day of his academic career, a meeting with Chrissy Cunningham that upended his life and nearly killed him. And that was difficult in so many ways, but maybe the hardest was the hatred, the sheer overwhelming amount of it coming from everywhere. From the people of Hawkins, from Chrissy and Jason’s friends, from the police who never really did buy the stories. That was the hate on the outside.

But then there was the hate on the inside. The black hole of self-loathing for being such a fucking loser that he was dealing drugs to kids, despising himself for spending three years of his life as a high school senior, and even then never graduating; he should have been long gone way before Vecna got his claws into Chrissy.

And then, and god help him for this, the hate for Chrissy.

Because as much as he was ashamed of it, he did hate her for a while; it was her fault, right? She came to him, she dragged him into this. If she had never put that note in his locker it would never have happened. He’d have scraped his passing grade and got the fuck out of Hawkins. 

He’s long past that now, though.

He picks up flowers from the little shop on Main Street. The owner knows him now, she arrranges flowers over the phone when he can’t be there, even takes them out to the cemetery for him. Perks of being a rock star.

No one bothers him when he’s here. The odd person side eyes him but probably because they don’t recognise him. Small towns and their strangers, a hate hate relationship. He’s been spotted a few times over the years, the odd photograph and a signature. Something he’s usually okay with, but not here. But it’s not worth the blow up so he smiles, and chats and signs, and then he gets back to his business. 

He stops at Chrissy’s grave first, places the bouquet, says sorry, though he’s never been sure what he’s sorry for, and then he heads up the hill to his mom. He spends more time with her, though he doesn’t talk anymore. He’s in his forties now. He wonders what she would look like, would she be proud of him, but he doesn’t say it out loud anymore. There’s no point.

As he heads out of the cemetery he turns his phone back on; messages from Wayne and Steve start to come through. Checking if he’s okay. Loving him.

So yeah, he was moulded by hate, but you can break moulds, right? 

[thosehallowedhalls]

three princes walk into a bar

Books: Crimes of Passion, The Royal Romance, Rules of Engagement

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne, Liam Rys, Leo Rys

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1200+

Summary: Liam has been roped into fixing Trystan's public image. Leo? Leo is just along for the ride.

A/N: This is the seventh chapter of the Round Robin 2024 saga, hosted by @choicesprompts.

Over the rim of his martini glass, Trystan examined the two men watching him. 

"You two trying to get into comedy or something? Three princes walk into a bar?"

"I'm a king," Liam corrected.

"I've had to deal with a lot of bullshit this week, Drakovia," Leo shot back, hunched over his own glass. "Don't test me."

"I'm just trying to understand why the two of you sought me out here, Cordonia One and Two. Aren't you," he pointed at Leo, "one of us degenerates in need of a PR miracle? And you," turning to Liam, "a little busy ruling a country?"

Leo downed his whiskey like a shot of tequila. Appalled, Trystan shook his head. "It ought to be a crime to treat a fine blend like that."

"Believe me, if you'd had the week I had," he glared at Liam, "you'd want to gulp down a good whiskey too." 

"Which brings us to why I'm here," Liam added. "I've been assigned as your partner."

"You're fucking with me. How the hell does a king get roped into playing PR consultant in a reality show?"

"Hypothetically, a king gets a desperate call from an old friend after your original partner quit."

"I see Bertrand is not above a guilt trip. Good for him. But what makes you think I want your help?"

Liam leaned closer. "Let's be honest here, Trystan. Your public image is a mess. At this point, short of solving a murder, I'm your only option."

"I'll take the murder. Got any dead bodies handy?"

"Afraid not. And no offense, but I really don't see you as a detective. You're too scatterbrained for that."

"Ouch." Trystan sipped from his martini. "Enlighten me, then, Coach. How do you plan to make an honest man out of me?"

Liam took Trystan's wrist and pushed it down. "First of all, you put that drink down. According to a cursory Google search, there are barely any pictures of you from the past three years, minimum, where you're not holding a drink."

"You're calling me an alcoholic?"

"Considering I haven't seen you in almost eight years, I have no idea. But you certainly look like one, and that’s what matters."

"Ohh, appearance makes reality. Is that a royal saying? I always thought it was a Queen Viktoria saying." 

"It's a rational person saying. The next step is making you look like you have other thoughts besides who you're going to screw next." He made a face. "Maybe Leo could take some pointers there."

"Hey, you're not my partner, I'm just along for the ride. Besides, may I remind you, I'm happily married."

"I'm aware, and I also know you're faithful to Katie. But if you keep acting like you did before you were married, the public will think it's not a big leap from getting wasted and puking on bushes to cheating on your wife."

Trystan exchanged a commiserating look with Leo. "Was he always like this?"

"Unfortunately."

"Pity."

"Back to you," Liam continued unaffected. “You were exiled almost eight years ago, and it doesn't look like you'll be welcomed back into the fold any time soon. We both know you didn't have anything to do with Countess Juliana's death..."

Trystan drank again. "Do we?" He asked softly. 

"Right. I know you didn't have anything to do with Countess Juliana's death." He jerked a thumb in Leo's direction. "So does he."

"You're a lot of things, Drakovia," Leo agreed. "But a murderer isn't one of them."

"Too bad everyone else disagrees."

"Indeed. But you're still a prince, your actions still reflect on your country, and it's only a matter of time before King Maksim and Queen Viktoria tighten the leash."

Trystan sighed and ran a hand over his jaw. His stubble contributed to the general air of dissipation that enveloped him like a mist.

"If you want to keep your comfortable life," Liam continued. "You'll make sure to go from 'drunken waste of space'..."

"Christ, Rys. Why don't you tell me how you really feel."

"... to 'proper gentleman.'" 

"Proper gentleman? Seriously?"

"He can't help it," Leo put in. "Put a man on a throne long enough, he'll start to sound like an etiquette manual. Then again," he turned to his brother. "I'm not sure you weren't born this way."

"Carry on like this, brother dearest, and I'll make sure your partner swaps places with Olivia. She finished with Carrera early anyway, I'm sure she could fit you in."

Leo grimaced. "As I was saying, Liam makes excellent points."

"Coward." Trystan gestured to the waitress. "Bring me another one, will you, darling?"

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did anything I said in the past twenty minutes get through?"

"Maybe? I vaguely recall something about proper." He laughed when Liam dropped his head into his hands. "Relax, Your Majesty. I'll be on my best behavior all week."

"By whose standards?"

"There goes my loophole." Trystan sighed. "Look, I couldn't care less about my public image, but I'm not in any rush to face my mother's wrath. Besides, you're quite frankly pitiful right now. Saying no would make me feel like I was kicking a puppy. A sweet, annoying puppy."

Leo slapped a hand on the table. “Thank you! That's what he reminds me of! A thirty plus year old mystery, solved in a single night. Maybe you really should be a detective.”

Liam looked heavenward when Trystan and Leo laughed and clinked glasses. Praying for patience, no doubt. "Not quite what I was going for, but I'll take it."

"So what's the plan, oh wise one? We've already covered my drinking.”

“We’re going over the basics.”

“How to Be a Productive Member of Society 101?”

“Exactly. And as your partner…”

Trystan sighed. “Can we come up with a different word? I don't really do partners.”

“As your mentor…”

“Partner it is.”

“... It's my responsibility to make you look squeaky clean for the cameras.”

Leo groaned. “Liam, no. I'll grant you that he needs to improve his reputation, but squeaky clean won't do. People will start theorizing that he died and was replaced with a clone. Or a very elaborate AI video.”

“You might be right. What do you propose instead?”

“He leans into the role of loveable rogue. He works hard, he plays hard. He's aware of his privilege and doesn't take it for granted.”

Liam turned to face his brother. “That's rather good. Why the hell haven’t you been doing that?”

A shadow passed over Leo’s face, but he grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know? But you’re not my partner, thank God. So let’s focus on our exiled prince here.”

Trystan blew out a breath. “Look, I’d like to get out of this island sooner rather than later. Can we get this over with?”

“Surprisingly, Leo makes a good point. Too big a change wouldn’t feel authentic. You still need to come across as you, just…”

“An upgraded version?”

“Exactly. So.” He pulled out a leather-bound notebook and a fountain pen. “We begin.”

Three hours later, Trystan had a headache, Liam was inching ever closer to a migraine, and Leo… Well, Leo had his face buried in another drink. But the sense of satisfaction permeated the air.

“There’s hope for you yet, Thorne,” Liam said delightedly. “Two more days or so and you’ll be ready for the cameras.”

“Oh joy.”

“But.” He planted his hands on the table and leaned forward. “If you screw this up, I’ll personally make sure that your next partner isn’t as nice as me.”

Trystan laughed. “Fear not, young Jedi. No offense, but I’m done with partners. Never again.”

[daipeanutsaiban]

Hello! Um I know it's been a few months since you said people could ask you more questions on your tgaa thoughts, but I was hoping to ask about your baskerzieks and genshinxwife ones. Like how they met, or what their last in person convos went like before each couple separated/died, etc, bc I really adore your Lady B & Mrs. Asougi designs! They deserved first names 😭

Also I'd love to hear your genklint/ville thoughts too if you care to share those!

ALSO I wanted to say you're 100% correct that if Kazuma & Klint ever actually met good ending au Kazuma would think he's the most annoying person alive. It's funny if genklint is platonic or romantic too, it's like Herlock Sholmes is right there and instead Kazuma thinks his dad's bf (best friend OR boyfriend lol) is significantly worse. Something something hating your parallel

Anyway no pressure, and sorry if you aren't looking to answer more questions at this time!

HI i love to yap and to yap about dgs especially so you're good haha <3 i'm the kind of person who needs to be asked tbh bc i tend to be self conscious/doubt myself so questions are always super appreciated 🥹💗 this post got LONG so i'm going to put it under a break to spare anyone who's just here for art or trying to look at memes during their lunch break

TL;DR: klint and primrose were engaged as kids but it was broken off upon his parents' death, it was renewed when he earned prestige as a prosecutor; their last conversation was when primrose forced him to confess his crimes to her but she'd started having doubts months ago; in my favorite hc, gkv never pursued one another beyond dropping hints here and there but because i am bisexual i also want them to have fun; genshin and yukari met by chance as teens and genshin had to convince his father to let them marry each other after finding out she was pregnant; he could never say his last words to her because writing about the professor's identity could've endangered her and kazuma.

first of all thank you so much, it makes me so happy when people enjoy my designs and characterizations for lady baskerville and mrs asougi!! for clarity, i'll be calling them by the names i gave them in this post, primrose and yukari respectively.

klint and primrose's engagement was decided by their parents and they met as children- i think they were probably feeling awkward around each other for a while since children don't really care about such things (right..?) and primrose actually chose to spend her time reading when her father would take her to visit, and she might've even been more interested in talking/playing with barok because there wouldn't be the daunting idea of an engagement looming on the horizon lol. eventually, she and klint do grow closer and come to consider each other friends thanks to him putting in a lot of effort to make her feel welcome and also have more fun (she finds him boring- i characterize klint as having been a very serious and dutiful child, though he does play with and dote on his brother).

when the van zieks parents die in my hc, losing their life in a fire specifically, primrose's father chooses to cancel their engagement because he doubts klint can suitably provide for his daughter- a cruel but logical decision as klint is just fourteen years old with no backing or achievements. as an aside, the fire is declared to be an unfortunate accident but klint silently believes it was premeditated- this incident contributes to him considering prosecution as a career. out of care for his brother, he never brings up this idea to barok.

still, primrose is a very clever child who's acutely aware that her father's doting is a form of control (such as making her wear beautiful, white clothes to easily find out if she's been sneaking out, which i think i talked about before), and she insists on meeting klint either at his estate or in the city while they both (and occasionally barok) wear disguises/common clothes. the latter option allows them to meet people outside of their social caste, and to develop a sympathy for them from an early age which also contributes to klint's growing bitterness towards other nobles. throughout his struggle to be taken seriously by these men in spite of his age, primrose continuously encourages him and even spies on her father's meetings with other gentlemen to then report to him, and this continues in their adult life with her reporting rumors and "gossip" from other ladies about their own husbands (with perhaps dire consequences in the long run, haha...)

primrose has ambitions of her own, though, many of which are philanthropic in nature and stem from guilt at being born in a wealthy household to a father who does not care about people other than his own. they are difficult to achieve as an unmarried woman (or even as a woman in general), as her father would never greenlight her ideas, and as such she becomes enraged with klint when he allows the engagement to be dispelled due to believing she would ultimately "be happier with someone else" when it would effectively condemn any ounce of freedom she could have. from primrose's perspective, klint is the only candidate for marriage because he actually respects her and understands her as a person.

their engagement was eventually reinstated following klint's multiple achievements, chiefly when he made a name for himself as an extremely prolific prosecutor and primrose's father couldn't really object to it (ha) anymore. when i researched, i learned that men in the victorian era would commonly get married in their thirties once their careers were established, and i especially like that for this couple because it means that genshin could've attended their wedding. (it's also amusing to picture klint pitching him as the best man while primrose is firmly in barok's camp and they have a silly spat about that, haha. but ngl i prefer genshin as their best man because it was tradition that the best man would drive the married couple to their month long honeymoon directly after the ceremony so. he could stay behind a little while if you catch my meaning. teehee)

on the topic of genklintville, my ultimate preference/personal "canon" is that they never outright acted upon their romantic or sexual interests in one another although the tension was clearly there. but like any bisexual on the internet, i like to indulge a little bit, as shown in my previous paragraph hehe. i like to imagine a kind of kinship between genshin and primrose as they are interested in similar literature and share a similar sense of humor as well (chiefly teasing klint- in a deadpan manner for genshin). klint and primrose tend to dote on genshin in a way they think is discreet, because they can sense his loneliness at being apart from his family even though he generally doesn't voice it, but as we all know genshin isn't a fool and it leaves him quite flustered haha. genshin also relates to klint in the way that they are both heirs to something "greater than them" (the asogi clan/the van zieks heritage) and sometimes yearn to break away from it which might contribute to why genshin left for london if the first place. i'd like to add that if i draw genklint without primrose present, it's taking place with her knowledge and consent, though them being pushed to cheating due to increasing stress or suchlike circumstances is an interesting angle- it's just not something i see myself making at present. though now saying that has made me think about the ways it could be fun to explore the way klint's lying and gaslighting keeps piling up, so what's one more lie? so i'd be interested in reading a story that would attest to his guilt from committing the act and his gaslighting towards not only his wife but also to himself, hmm. the best way that i can put it is that if i'm to explore gk without the v, she must be a relevant character because i'm not about to discard a canon female love interest to focus solely on the yaoi lmao.

now for genshin and yukari, or genyu for short as i like to call it in my head (lol)... there's a lot to cover here too 😵‍💫 some of this, particularly the stuff concerning ayame, is still undecided on but i thought the more context the better!

to understand their dynamic, it feels important to state/repeat my headcanons about the asogi clan aka genshin's immediate family beyond her and kazuma, which were mentioned here. but to summarize, they are very patriarchal, strict, and the type to suppress their emotions. genshin is his father's illegitimate child, and his real mother is... hm, well, she won't ever appear in my art because it's suitable for her character, but she's a high ranking courtesan, aka "oiran", and therefore pregnancy/being a mother could bring shame to her and likely ruin her livelihood, because they are meant to project the image of being unattainable both in appearance.. and price. her disappearing for some months to a year wouldn't be all that suspicious as few men can even afford to meet her.

because the oiran brings the House where she works good money, they help her cover up her pregnancy and her son's existence by sending him to live with his father as soon as possible. once, genshin tries to visit his mother, but he is turned away. in short, his first experience was to be abandoned by someone who was supposed to love him. i think this backstory also serves to give reason to his name (written with the kanji 'shadow' and 'truth') because he is a truth meant to be hidden by the government. if you think about his father giving him that name, it becomes quite sad and implies shame for bringing his son into the world. i think it would also justify the personality i like for him, which is more reserved and serious than how i portray the rest of the visiting trio (with a boisterous but ambitious seishiro and a downtrodden but shy and earnest yuujin), and with a greater disposition for being suspicious... which is naturally a good thing for a detective.

genshin's father's wife lost her life to an illness some years prior to genshin integrating into the asogi clan, which is why he sought comfort from the oiran. to avoid unsavory rumors and to preserve both women's reputation, syoma (genshin's father) forbids his son from venturing outside of the house - paralleling primrose's childhood, which they could bond over later in life - until he turns a certain age. he's the dark sheep of the clan, to make it short. it's by sneaking out as a child that he meets seishiro, and then yukari who is accompanying ayame.

as an aside, i want to add that while syoma holds misogynistic beliefs, he still feels a sense of responsibility so he does eventually pay off the oiran's debt in the end- not that she's particularly grateful since he led her on and made her promise not to abort his child without ever planning to marry her. not a great guy, but def a fun character to write. those are things genshin deduces in his teenage years, and he swears to never become like his father.

as for yukari, her family history is also nebulous, and i don't know if i even want to establish her circumstances before meeting ayame and genshin because i like the meta irony of those details remaining unknown to us just as they were unknown to those around her outside of how she is tied to other people. ayame's friend, genshin's wife, kazuma's mother- never her own person. she reaches a breaking point during genshin's absence, but i won't go into detail about that for now because it's part of a long project of mine. what i can say about her is that she does housework for ayame's family in exchange for room and board, but she's not categorized as a servant because ayame cherishes her, a privilege that makes her feel awkward at times.

genshin fell for her due to her frank and joyful approach to life which was so different from the outlook he was raised on, and she piqued his curiosity with her unusual and often "silly", but free, behavior. he has the utmost respect for her, which is why as much as i like gkv and think it could work in a modern au with yukari's inclusion/approval + rapid methods of communication, i think realistically genshin wouldn't have the heart to start anything with someone else when she is waiting for his every letter so far away. he wouldn't be able to read the expression on her face, and she could easily lie about being okay with it.

in this wikipedia article about marriage in japan in the edo period (1600-1868), it reads: "Members of the household were expected to subordinate all their own interests to that of the [household], with respect for an ideal of filial piety and social hierarchy. [...] Marriages were duly arranged by the head of the household, who represented it publicly and was legally responsible for its members, and any preference by either principal in a marital arrangement was considered improper."

you might've guessed where i'm going with this, but genshin's father had already chosen a wife for him, and that person was ayame, who is from a 'good' family. obviously that marriage didn't go through with yukari becoming pregnant at 18 or 19 (!!), and syoma capitulated to genshin's request that he be given permission to marry his girlfriend which only further strained his relationship with his father further. as for ayame, she was fortunate that the man she was interested in was studying medicine, and therefore struggled less for her family to accept yuujin as her husband. but for yukari, although she knows genshin doesn't love ayame, there's always that nagging feeling that she was the "wrong" choice. after all, she has to witness the interactions between genshin and his family every day, and her presence is often the source of tension. her only rock after ayame's death and genshin's departure is her son, who starts rejecting spending time with her as he grows older because, well, he's a teenager (something i want to expand on in that project i mentioned).

in yukari's case, she was never able to read her husband's last words as even writing about the professor's identity could endanger hers and kazuma's lives, but perhaps genshin had promised he would briefly return at the half-way point of his stay overseas and then ended up having to break that promise by choosing to investigate the professor killings before eventually losing his life. yukari's feelings of helplessness were confirmed as the truth in her eyes then.

as for primrose and klint's last conversation, it's been sitting in my wips for a while LOL. i def think she had her suspicions, and when she finally gathered her courage to confront him, he broke down and told her the truth. i've revised this comic and especially its dialogue so many times that i don't even know if i like it anymore, please pray for me 😅

It's funny if genklint is platonic or romantic too, it's like Herlock Sholmes is right there and instead Kazuma thinks his dad's bf (best friend OR boyfriend lol) is significantly worse.

this made me laugh LMAO honestly kazuma would be so petty about it meanwhile i feel like he'd get along super well with the man's own wife 😂 i also think that as an adult kazuma would admire his father less and even be a bit of a tsundere lol, but yeah in a No One Dies/Good Ending AU(tm) he'd probably resent genshin a little for leaving him and his mother, whose struggles he witnessed firsthand for ten years. hell, maybe he does resent him in the current circumstances even if it's not the dominant emotion when it comes to his father, it of course being grief... still. lord van zieks get your paws off my dad!! 🙄💢 also if genshin starts reciprocating the attention kazuma might start killing LOL

...this answer is now well over 2000 words and i still feel like i'm leaving things out i feel CRAZY omg. autism diagnosis unnecessary atp lmfao.

also just found this in my #yukanotes i should've just copy pasted all this augh. i love yukari very much she is extremely dear to me. 😊💗

thanks again for your questions I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG....... i DO love to yap 🥹🥹💗

[suchalonelysunflower]

Den of Vipers

Sinners and Saints: Chapter 1

Pairing: Mafia! Ashton Irwin x Fem! Hemmings! Reader

Word count: 5.8 k

Summary: Devastating news forces you to knock on the door of the last person you’d ever want to see.

Warnings: Death, murder, blood, guns, mentions of drugs, abuse, torture, kidnapping, language. Some gramatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Author’s Note: Hiya! Welcome to my new series. I won’t have a taglist anymore, so any way you can support this, whether it is a reblog, comment or like, would be very much appreciated ❤️ Hope you like it and Happy reading 🌻✨❤️

Series Masterlist

The roaring sound of the engine could be heard from your room, distracting you from the book you were so comfortably reading. A smile crossed your features as you jumped out of bed and made your way outside.

The sun was starting to set with the golden hour on the horizon. The image of your brother’s back walking out the door welcomed you for just a moment before you decided to jump on him, immediately making him drop the small amount of luggage he was carrying.

“Since when do you leave without saying goodbye?” You laughed, perfectly koaling your way along his broad back.

The perks of being a little sister: you’re never too old or too heavy for piggyback rides from your siblings.

Luke groaned a laugh “Since I figured I could be free from your ass a few minutes longer”

You jumped off him “You don’t mean that”

“Of course not,” He smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I was going to go up to your room in a few minutes”

It was always like this when he had to leave. Ever since he started helping your father at work, he’s been gone most of the time, barely having any time for you. It was no secret that Luke was your favorite amongst your brothers, nor did he hide the fact that you were his favorite as well. It was just the way it is, having just two years distancing you of age he became your best friend from the beginning. And it was not like you were allowed many friends either - or rather, no one wanted to be your friend because of your last name.

Luke got that, everyone in the family did. But growing up made it harder for you than your brothers. Being the only girl in the family does that.

“How long are you leaving this time?”

Luke sighed “Dad said it’s only for a week, but you know him”

“So I should expect you by the end of the month” You answered him, trying to hide the hurt in your smile “Can’t you come back early? At least for a few days?”

“Why?” He asked with a puzzled expression “Is there something important happening or…?” You punched him, he laughed “Of course I’ll try to be here for your birthday, little thunder”

And if Luke said he would try, he meant it.

He kissed your forehead before a loud honk could echo throughout the house.

“Someone’s impatient” You rolled your eyes.

“We gotta love him” Luke shrugged, grabbing his luggage and giving you one last look “Take care, Y/N”

“You, too! I’ll see you when you get back”

“I’ll bring you a present!”

You stayed at the door until you watched the car disappear through the gates. Little did you know what would happen next.

*

The brain works in funny ways. Always reminding you of things you would rather forget.

It’s been a week since “it” happened, but there wasn’t a day where you didn’t relieve it at least once.

The rain against the window; the loud knocks on the door. You were sitting in the kitchen, putting the last candles on your birthday cake, anxious about the promise Luke made you as you looked at the clock. How did they let the police just pass through the gate like that? Maybe the guards knew it was urgent. How you walked down the hall, careful just to eavesdrop without being noticed, just in time to watch your mother fall to her knees, her beautiful party dress ruined as the most horrifying sound left her mouth.

Then, it was all a blur.

People dressed in black. Your father having meetings after meetings behind closed doors, always catching your eye before the familiar click of the lock filled the silence. How the rain felt against your skin as the casket containing your brother's body was lowered down to the ground, never to be seen again. Your mother’s tears. The fake “I’m sorry for your loss” speeches. Your father's stone-cold expression as his hand covered your shoulder with some sort of affection. The silence that came afterward.

But it couldn’t end like that. It wasn’t right.

“We need to find him,” You told your father after the funeral.

He was sitting behind his desk, looking the oldest you’ve ever seen him. His eyes weren’t even focusing on you, almost as if he were also lost.

The first time he lost a son, Ben, your oldest brother, it made him cold as ice. It helped him build the empire he had now, grown on the blood of the enemies he took down along the way. You were just a child then, not older than thirteen, but you remember how fast things started to change. How friends stopped being friends, how business never meant the same thing again, how your mother stopped smiling as the jewels in her chest started growing.

But this is different.

“Dad,” You begged, hating how you sounded like a little kid again.

“There is nothing we can do, Y/N,” He said, coldly.

That’s who Robert Hemmings was, never sugarcoating anything. He tried, albeit your mother’s begging, to keep you out of the know of the family business. You were their only daughter, their little Angel, what good would it do to drag you into this world of madness and blood? It seemed like she didn’t know you at all.

“So you’re just going to sit there and do nothing?!” Your voice rose with every word.

Your father didn’t dignify you with a response, instead, he chose to sit back and close his eyes. For the first time in years, you realized just how old your father was getting. The creases upon his face were as deep as the dark circles under his eyes. His white hair was getting thinner by the hour, and the spots on his skin seemed to be growing.

For a second you wondered just how much time it had passed since you saw him smile, since you spent time with him like you used to when you were a little kid. But you were not a kid anymore, and the man in front of you did not seem like your father at all.

He seemed tired, he probably was after all of this. But you were tired as well, tired of so, so many things that you were done keeping quiet for.

“He is still out there,” You said, more quietly this time “I know he is”

“Y/N…” He sighed, rubbing the pads of his fingers on his temple, trying hard to come up with the right words before he exploded in a fit of anger as he usually does with his subordinates “You heard what the police said. You read the reports even though we told you not to-”

“The reports said they only found one body, dad. One!” You wanted to scream, to shake some sense back into him but for what? You could already see the lost battle before it even began “Maybe Luke wasn’t in the car, maybe-”

“The car was completely burned out! They found his jewelry, some bones- Y/N I don’t know how else to tell you! They’re dead!”

“Jack is dead,” You said somberly “Jack’s body is the only one that they found. Jack’s the one six feet below. Not Luke”

Robert sat back in his chair, shaking his head as you continued with your ranting.

“The bones couldn’t be identified, so it could be one poor soul that got the short end of the stick. It could be one of the collateral damage, as you call them, right dad? Could be fucking anyone! Luke could still be out there, he could be in trouble and we’re sitting here doing nothing-!”

A loud bang interrupted you. Your father’s fist was tense over his desk after he banged on it, not caring about the glass of water that tipped over and was now spilling over the edge of the mahogany. The vein on his neck was trembling as well as his jaw, but his eyes weren’t focused on you. Instead, he looked down, eyes wide and unreadable with every emotion hidden and swallowed by his pride.

Still, that didn’t scare you.

“Jack would’ve wanted for us to find him”

“Don’t you fucking talk about your brother” Robert spat.

“Someone has to!” You stood up, letting the foot of the chair drag against the floor. You have never stood up to your father before, but it was time to change some things around the Hemmings' household “You know I’m right”

“Y/N, Luke is dead,” He said, finally looking straight at you. The helplessness in his eyes took you by surprise “The sooner you accept it, the better. The ceremony for his remains will be-”

“No! That’s not him!” You nearly cried, but you promised yourself not to. Not in front of him. Not ever “I’m not going to mourn a stranger standing in his place”

Your father just shook his head, letting his hands distract him as he sorted out the papers on his desk.

“Dad,” You demanded his attention, leaning over his desk “Dad!”

No response, no reaction.

“Fine,” You said, voice laced with anger “I’ll go find someone who will pay attention to me”

You started to walk away, not looking back as your nails dug into the flesh of your palm, cutting the skin to distract you from crying out of rage and disappointment. This was not how you expected he would react. You didn’t expect him to give up just like that.

The merciless boss of one of the biggest mafia rings in the country… giving up for his son.

“Y/N,” He called out before you closed the door behind you, making you stop in your tracks but you refused to look at him “I’m thinking of selling the business”

Those words left you frozen in place, a drop of cold sweat dripping down your back as you turned to him, clear fear in your eyes.

“What?”

Robert, stoic as usual, didn’t look up as he signed over something.

“The Luccas made an offer” He explained in so little detail “I believe it’ll be for the best”

“For the best?!” You scoffed, feeling completely betrayed. A new low you believed your father could never be able to reach “For the best of whom? Your conscience? Breaking news, dad. You don’t have one. Cause if you did, you would never-”

You pressed your lips together, shushing the lump in your throat that threatened to escape in a sob. You took a deep breath and turned to your father.

“I hope you know this is the last time I’ll ever talk to you again if you dare to sell it to them. To him”

“That’s not your decision to make”

“Then consider me dead along with the rest of your children. You’re good at that”

The banging on the door was heard all over the house along with your shoes stomping on the floor.

*

He could laugh. Was it possible that they were that stupid?

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for Calum Hood and Michael Clifford to come at him for help, but really? Drugs?

“This has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever asked me,” He said, both Calum and Michael shifted a little in their seats.

There they were, sitting in comfortable velvety cushion seats with leather handles; drinking a whiskey that was probably older than them; hands adorned with expensive jewelry and dressed in the finest suits they could afford. And they were afraid.

It was normal, of course, to feel intimidated by him. After all, his reputation preceded him as one of the deadliest men in the country. His successful deals gave him millions, and the ones that weren’t as successful still made him a threat. Men feared him or wanted to be him. Women fell at his feet on their knees and not just to beg for mercy.

There was no wonder why he was nicknamed “Lucifer” given that his eyes resembled the evil and cruelty of Alexander Cabanel’s painting. There was no good left in him, not that anyone knew. Not that he would show proof of that.

Ashton Irwin was a proud man, a respectable man. And the two men in front of him knew it, so why waste their time?

Both Calum and Michael were famous around town as well. The prodigal son, Calum Hood, became a household name after he took on the family business after holding his father at gunpoint to sign the papers for him. Soon, he enlisted Michael Clifford, a wizard in technology and heir to his own fortune - albeit a bit small - as his right-hand man. They made themselves known in the business, and even Ashton had to admit that it was surprising how quickly they went up the ladder amongst the other families he knew. But, as any rookies, they made a few mistakes and asked a lot of favors that they were now trying to amend.

“Calum, how’s your girl?” Ashton asked, leaning back on his chair, pretending that their request was never asked in the first place “Still running that bookshop back on Seventh Street?”

The smirk on Ashton’s face might not have meant anything else but a taunt to Calum. But the latter didn’t like the way he said it, almost as if he knew that his girl was his only weakness.

“She’s good” He answered, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing him affected.

Ashton hummed, looking at the third guy who was standing near the mirror on the wall.

“It’s not nice to bring security and bodyguards for a talk with friends,” He said.

“Is that what we are?” Michael asked, “Is that what we’re doing?”

“You tell me, Clifford. Cause I know for sure that if you came to me as partners then we wouldn’t even have this conversation” Calum opened his mouth to speak but Ashton silenced him “Because as you know, I don’t make deals with lost causes, and right now I’m seeing two in front of me”

“Ashton-”

“There’s a thing called “unsaid agreements” in this business, Calum, I know you’re familiar with that. And that is we don’t shit where we eat. We don’t sell drugs in this city, we don’t make deals with the locals, and for fuck’s sake we don’t owe favors to the ones that don’t comply with this agreement” He pointed his finger at the two men in front of him “And you two fuckers did the three things together”

“Well, what choice did we have?!” Calum asked “The Luccas were threatening to take over our territory and-”

“And I don’t give a fuck about the Lucass’” Ashton spat “In fact…”

In one swift move, he took a gun under his desk and shot the security guard right in the head.

“WHAT THE-”

“FUCKING CHRIST”

The two men yelled and jumped as the gun went off. Splatters of blood could be found in their clothing and faces, but nothing compared to the smear of blood and brains that now dropped from the mirror. Ashton, as usual, sat back in his chair with a smirk and hid the gun. Not a single drop of blood hit him or his desk.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!” Calum yelled, trying to wipe the blood from his clothes, showcasing his lack of knowledge of the business.

“Cause he was wearing a microphone you jackass!” Ashton spat “Hidden on the belt, look it up”

Michael leaned down and he in fact found a small microphone hidden behind the buckle. He sighed as he showed it to Calum. The two men looked back at Ashton with tired looks filled with anger and embarrassment.

“Another advice,” He said “Don’t fucking invite newbies to “important” meetings”

“You think you’re so smart…”

“I know I’m smart, Hood, and I’m the best there is in this business so don’t you fucking forget it. There’s a reason you came to me and not to the bloody Bermans” He got up and walked up to Calum, grabbing his chin and pulling his closer “I’m the only chance you have but I don’t even know if you two idiots deserve it. So, admit it, Hood”

Calum rolled his eyes, but Ashton tightened his grip.

“Say it” He nearly whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

“Jesus fuck, fine. We need you, okay?”

Ashton smiled, letting go of Calm and patting him on the cheek “Atta boy”

Just in time, someone knocked on the door before opening it. A young blond girl dressed in a white crop top and leather pants peaked inside, only showing half of her body but her whole face.

“Sir?”

“Lauren, not now”

“There’s someone here to see you”

Ashton rolled his eyes “I don’t have time for it right now. Whatever or whoever it is, it can wait till at least for the cleaning to come up”

“I don’t think it can wait, sir. She’s very insistent. I’ve been trying to hold her back for twenty minutes now” Ashton gave her a look that made her roll her eyes “She says her name is angel and that it’s urgent”

Ashton perked up at the name. Slowly biting the inside of his cheek, he nodded and turned back toward his desk.

He clicked his tongue before looking toward Michael and Calum, and then back to his assistant.

“Bring her in and send the cleaning team to at least remove that idiot, please” Lauren nodded and closed the door. He looked at his desk, putting away some papers as he nonchalantly said “You two, out”

“What?!”

“This isn’t over, Irwin-”

“Yes, Clifford it is” He stared at them but barely raised his head “Now get the fuck out before I make you”

Ashton could only hear a string of murmured curses and then the door closing with a bang. He smirked, “Angel,” He whispered to himself in a singing, mocking tone “What have you gotten into”

*

The blonde girl looked familiar. Her smile showed some kindness that you weren’t used to seeing around these places, even when you first encountered her behind the bar. She didn’t ask questions other than your name and the reason for your sudden visit.

“He doesn’t see people without a previous appointment,” She said, handing one more beer to the drunken men who slurred their thank you’s to her.

“What, is he a doctor?” You chuckled humorlessly, but the girl didn’t laugh along with you. her bright blue eyes just showed pity and understanding. You sighed “Look, tell him is angel, he’ll see me”

The girl shrugged “I can’t promise you anything, doll. Just wait here”

Once she was out of sight through a backdoor, you took your time to scan the place. Ashton did outsell himself with this one.

“The Den of Vipers” was the most popular club in the city, having opened ten years ago when Ashton took over the family business, it was still filled with clients who wanted to get lost for a while. Ashton was good at making people disappear, and it showed. This place screamed his name wherever you would look.

The floor was a dark marble with white gold lines separating the tiles. There were booths against the walls, all made of velvet cushions and leather. The lights were low, and changing from blue to purple, to green and then white again as the music played, it was impossible to keep track of the people there thanks to it. The bar itself was made of bulletproof glass, standing proudly and mockingly in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by different bodies lost in the mindless music the DJ of the night put on, almost in trance and unaware of the things that happened behind the scenes.

Of course, this whole charade of a humble business owner was just Ashton’s front to the authorities - even though they always seemed to be on his side, many times you heard your father complain about it - but you knew the reality. In fact, you were sure that when the girl came back, you’d be led through the backdoor and into the real building. You’d walk through careful hallways that will eventually lead you to the owner’s real office.

And that is exactly what happened once she came back and guided you through cushioned, sound-proofed walls covered in dark green velvet. The lights of the halls were dimmed, giving the feeling of being watched at all times like a haunted house. And you wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case, after all, Ashton could be anything but careless when it came to a negotiation.

Which is exactly why you’re here.

When you got to the door of his office, you didn’t need to knock as the door opened immediately. Two guys dressed in black came out carrying a bodybag, leaving the door open. You rolled your eyes because, of course, Ashton would make a big show.

“I’ll take it from here,” You said to the girl, giving her a small smile that she mirrored.

The first thing you saw when you came into the office was the desk. It had nothing but some papers and a lamp, no sign of family pictures or hobbies. It was common for the “big bosses” to keep their workplaces clean of any personal relationships, but coming from Ashton it seemed pretentious - at least for you.

The mirror still had blood stains on it and you could tell they were still fresh, even so you didn’t look twice. Blood and guts are not something that shocks you anymore, and that realization came with a whole can of worms you weren’t ready to open up yet. There were some stains on the floor and what you could assume was gunpowder residue, so you were careful not to step on those.

“I’d apologize for the mess, princess. But you and I both know it doesn’t matter”

You turned to find Ashton with his back facing you as he fixed a drink on his personal mini-bar. His broad shoulders and back were covered with the finest of suits - from Milan, everyone and their mothers wore clothes from Milan - his hair was longer than the last time you saw him.

When he turned around, however, it seemed like nothing had changed.

He looked mature, of course, twelve years can do that to someone. But his eyes were still the same shade of hazel you remember, only a bit more sadist. He looked good, and somehow you hated that. It was time to put the past in the past where it belonged and stop the memories before they cloud your mind. Still, something inside you kept telling you, urging you to let yourself go. What did it matter how he looked? But that thought came late for the half smile he wore as he walked up to you, made you realize that he caught you staring.

“Here,” He said, handing you a glass of whiskey and coke. How’d he know your favorite drink? that was a question for another time “I assume you’re a big girl now, princess”

You glared at him as you swallowed the whole glass in one go, never taking your eyes off him and his unimpressed look.

“‘m not a princess” You said, dryly “And I can make my own drink, thank you”

You pushed past him and walked toward the mini bar, fixing yourself another drink. It was clear that you didn’t need it, your mind was screaming and begging for you to keep a clear head while you were ahead and in front of Lucifer himself. But something in his smile… the way his eyes still treated you like a child, so condescending, brought something in you. A chance to prove yourself in front of him.

All your life you had to prove yourself in front of men like him. In front of women who think they were better than you because their hands didn’t get dirty as yours did. In front of your parents. Of Luke… How long until they realize that you are where you belong?

Once you finished making your drink you turned back to Ashton. His eyes roamed your body, shamelessly, he licked his lips briefly before a smug grin adorned his face, eyes looking straight at you.

“I can see that,” He said, leaning against his desk “So, angel, haven’t heard from you in a while”

You rolled your eyes “Don’t call me that”

“You’ve never seemed to mind it before”

“I’m not here to reminisce about the olden days, Irwin” You spat.

Ashton whistled “So the bitch can bark! Impressive. Who would’ve thought that the balls of the Hemmings family were hiding behind their youngest?” Your face turned red in anger as your fingers tensed around the glass. Ashton noticed and tauntingly walked toward you with a smirk and leaning to whisper in your ear “But guess what? Y/N, you still can’t bite”

Your body became hot at his proximity. The smell of his cologne filled your surroundings as the rage - or something else, something new - inside your stomach kept boiling. But before you could push him away, he was already pulling apart and going back to sit at his desk.

“Tell me, Y/N, what is a Hemmings doing here all by herself? Has daddy finally kicked you out?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, looking down unable to meet his eyes. You can’t believe you’re doing this, not with him. But there wasn’t any other choice.

“I need help,” You said, hating how those words sounded coming from you.

“Everybody does” He shrugged “Doesn’t mean they’re going to get it-”

“Ashton,” You finally looked back at him. The urgency of your voice and the fact that you called him by his name for the first time since you came here, took him by surprise as he listened “Jack’s dead”

Ashton’s eyes remained unchanged at your words, looking straight at you while his fingers played with his rings on the opposite hand. From his reaction, it was hard to guess that once upon a time he and the Hemmings’ siblings were inseparable, Jack being the closest of age to him and one of his first friends. Your eyes begged for him to do something, say something. To show you any indication that he might help.

The bond between your family and his broke a long time ago. You were barely a child, but you knew there was no going back to the summers filled with laughter and joy you all shared. In the blink of an eye - or at least that’s what it felt like as a child - The Irwins and the Hemmings were sworn enemies. And the friendship you had with Ashton vanished in thin air.

You and Luke took it the hardest, begging your mother to help you call the Irwin household so you could talk to Ash. Never understanding why suddenly her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head no and told you to play something else.

“He hates us,” Luke said to you once. It was another boring afternoon after you suggested calling him again. But Luke’s eyes were cold as ice, scaring you as he said “And we hate him”

And for a while that was it. You weren’t going to go against your brother, so the subject was finally dropped and you haven’t seen Ashton since. Or at least that’s what everyone thought.

But now, years after the fallout, you were hoping somehow that those words were a lie. Maybe Ashton could still hold some kind of fond memory of your families together. Anything to make you believe he might help you.

“My condolences,” He said after a while, no emotion hidden in his voice.

His comment made you angry, “Is that it?”

“What else do you want me to say?” He shrugged “People die every day, Y/N, it just the way it is”

“He was murdered”

“Shocker” Ashton scoffed with sarcasm “He was never the brightest of lads.”

“It was an ambush,” You said, unable to stop. “They were driving back home in the middle of the night when a string of bullets came raining down on the vehicle. Jack could barely escape before they found him and slit his throat. They burned the car afterward. And Luke-... Luke’s missing, Ashton”

Ashton nodded, pressing his lips in a thin line “He’s probably dead”

“No, he’s not”

And maybe it was because of your determination, or the look in your eyes when you said it, almost as if you believed it. But Ashton grinned at your statement.

“No,” He said, “He’s not”

A small breath of relief escaped your lips. Finally, somebody believed you.

“Would you help me?”

“No”

“What?!”

Ashton shrugged “Why would I help you, little Hemmings? What makes you so entitled to come here and ask for my help after what your family did?”

“My family?” It caught you off guard, what did he know that you didn’t?

“And why aren’t they helping to find their beloved golden child?” Ashton mocked, standing up and circling his desk until he was once again in front of you “All the stories we hear about the young, promising Hemmings… I’m sure they were not talking about you”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, grip tightening around the glass, nearly breaking it.

“I am shocked that they didn’t start a search party already. Has daddy Hemmings opened his eyes to his karma yet? Why should I care? Matter of fact, why should you?”

“He’s my brother,”

“Cute. Not enough, but thanks for trying” He nodded toward the door “See yourself out, angel. This isn’t your castle”

Ashton turned around, not even giving you a second glance. Your hand reached out to him, grabbing him by the arm and making him stop. There were probably a few people who could do that to him, even fewer the ones who were still alive to tell the story. He turned his eyes toward you, curiosity and anger hidden in those hazel marbles staring back at you and then at your hand on his arm.

The tension was clear, but it was a little too late to rethink that mistake. If this was your only shot, then you had to take it. You owe that much to Luke.

“I- I have no one, Ash,” You said, looking down, ashamed of your statement and how weak you sounded.

Ashton didn’t say a word, he didn’t move away either. He stood there, waiting for you to continue. And for the first time in a long time, you felt relieved that someone was at least willing to listen.

“I left them,” You told him, looking straight into his eyes “I left my family because they did not believe me. They can’t find Luke, they won’t even try. He’s the only person I have left and I won’t rest until I find him, with or without your help”

Ashton grinned maniacally, a shadow appearing in his eyes as he looked down at you. Now you understand why they called him Lucifer. For he once was one of God's most beautiful angels, but temptation and his own ego were his doom. And, as he leaned down, you couldn’t help but be entranced by that wicked smile as he said, nearly whispering.

“And what are you willing to do, angel?”

It was a challenge, you could see it in his eyes. A bait to lure you into a trap. And you took it.

“Anything”

Ashton’s smile widened as he freed himself from your grasp and walked over to his desk to grab a set of keys, pressing a little button on it.

“If I’m going to help you, little Hemmings - and I’m not saying I will just yet - you’ll have to resign your name and what comes with it. I’ll be dead before I help a Hemmings out of the sheer kindness of my heart”

You rolled your eyes “You don’t have a heart, Irwin. Is that all you want? I told you I left my father”

“I don’t need a rogue princess fumbling with my business” Ashton scoffed, “So whatever I say goes. You’re working for me, Hemmings, not the other way around” He walked closer to you again, his chest nearly hitting yours “If I say go, you go. If I say we stop, you stop. If I say get out of my sight, you better pray your little feet move fast. I don’t care who you are, what you are, or what you represent. If you fuck with me, I’ll fuck right back. And I go hard, angel. No intentions of having any kind of mercy. Understood?”

You challenged him with a look, trying to figure him out. But time was running out, and you didn’t have any other option.

“Yes.” You said, dryly.

Ashton clicked his tongue “Yes, what?”

“Don’t push it, Irwin” You took a step back “So, we have a deal?”

The doors to the office opened and two large, muscly men dressed in suits came in and stood quietly but threatening at the door. You crooked an eyebrow and looked back at Ashton.

“Friends of yours?”

“Acquaintances,” He said, walking over to them and getting out the door, only stopping for a second “You comin’?”

The two men walked behind you as you followed Ashton through the halls that first brought you there. The image of his broad shoulders walking under the low lights and out toward the club shielded you from any distractions. He would sometimes glance over his shoulder, a teasing smile pulling at the corner of his lips when he noticed you were still walking a few steps behind him.

People at the club were sweaty and unashamed. Bodies grinding against one another and along the beat of a dark EDM song. Some women and boys would walk up to Ashton, letting their hands grace the skin of his face and neck or arms as they each seductively said hello to him. It seemed as if they were enchanted by him, moved by a spell of lust as their eyes would meet his. They wanted him, they all wanted him. Ashton would smile, say their names, and acknowledge them with a hello before moving to another person, another step toward the exit.

Ashton led you through a door that led to another dark hallway. The music sounded muffled through the walls, blocking your ears at the sudden change of environment. Ashton walked a few steps ahead before he stopped and turned around toward you, hands in his pockets as he looked at you and grinned.

“Now what?” You asked, annoyed “Any other fan of yours that we need to greet?”

Ashton chuckled and shook his head.

“No, just precautions”

“Precautions? Why would you-”

“Sorry, angel”

And with a snap of his fingers, the world went black.

*