#[he wants to know more about his dad because he wants to know his DAD] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheapshrimpysheep · 2 days ago

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What if They were Dads?

SUMMARY: Headcanons of what I think they would be like as fathers to your child. And what if his dormmates were like honorary uncles to the child?

CHARACTERS: OB Students (Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia)

TAGS: Headcanon; Fem!Reader (AFAB) (I never really know what tags to use but I hope you know what I mean)

WORD COUNT: An average of 690 words per character.

COMMENTS: I would have liked to have made a headcanon about the relationship with the boys' parents and siblings, but since we don't know them that well or at all on the Eng Server like Vil's father, I think I'll leave that for a possible post that complements this one. If you want.

Since I didn't want each character to have a big chunk of text, I put them as paragraphs instead of bullet points.

I hope you enjoy 🩵

CONTEXT: This was written with a cisgender female reader in mind. Reader is Yuu. But if you want (and can) read it in any other way, feel free to.

By the way, this is one of those moments when I wish English had a second person plural, instead of the singular and plural being the same. Whenever I write “your child” I mean it in the plural (you, the reader, and his)

Riddle’s child(ren) call him: Father

Riddle has the same demands and standards for his child that he has for himself. But he doesn't want to make the same mistakes as his mother, so in comparison he can be more permissive. Because of this he will ALWAYS listen to you if you tell him he is being too harsh.

In terms of studies, etiquette and behaviour he is quite strict as you would expect. But when it comes to play he lets his child do almost anything they want.

He doesn't know how to play with his child, but he will always make an effort to learn how to and do it with them. He almost seems to regress to the childhood he never had and wants to give to his child. Whenever the child learns a new game, they will show it and teach it to Riddle and he will be delighted with it.

Although he is strict, he is also relatively protective, especially if your child is a girl. He tries not to be overly protective, but he can't help but worry about your child. If there was a right way to raise a child, is he doing his job well enough? You will have several conversations at first to reassure him that he is doing a good job.

He will study any and all parenting books that experts in child behaviour and education recommend. This kind of knowledge is never too much. Which often leads you to try to convince him to relax and just trust his instincts and what he feels is right. The child is his, not all those authors and experts. Sometimes there are things that a parent simply knows.

Lawful and calm Uncle Trey. They love uncle Trey's sweets! Sometimes Riddle asks him if he's not giving them too much sweets and Trey always assures him that it's okay because he knows how to make healthier sweets and the limit for a child to eat. If they weren't already Riddle's child, the whole thing about always brushing their teeth could be scary.

Chaotic Uncle Che'nya. The crazy and fun Uncle! Your child and Che'nya join forces (maybe even with you) to play pranks on Riddle. Never anything that could get the child into trouble with their father, just enough for everyone, Riddle included, to have fun.

Uncle Ace and Uncle Deuce are more from your side than Riddle's honestly. Ace is a bit like Che'nya in the case of being one of the chaotic pranksters uncles. But he is also the uncle of magic tricks who is always deceiving, but also entertaining your child with them.

Deuce is the rad uncle with a cool moto and/or even cooler blastcycle, who offers to take your child for a ride in it with him. Your child also finds it funny to see the two of them arguing amicably. But it’s even funnier to see them imitating their father trying to order them to stop arguing.

Uncle Cater doesn't show up very often, but they like him. He's not chaotic like Ace and Che'nya, but he's also fun. Your child enjoys receiving compliments from him and taking pictures with him.

Your child imitates their father scolding Grim too. Just like Riddle (and probably because they're still little) they have a very bad temper. Riddle gets embarrassed whenever you say that someone takes after their father.

Leona’s child(ren) call him: Dad

Leona still doesn't like kids... your child(ren) is/are just an exception.

Yes, Leona would treat a daughter slightly differently than he would treat a son. In the same way that he treats men and women a little differently. But the only difference is that he would be tougher on a son than a daughter, but will still be affectionate regardless.

No matter what gender his child is, he wants the same for them: be strong both physically and mentally. To outsiders like some servants or citizens who don't know him, they may get to the point of thinking Leona is a harsh father who doesn't deserve all that love from his child, and he will tell both you and your child not to mind that. But the truth is that he is just like he was with you at school: a tough guy who hides a caring heart.

Leona continues to show himself to be a person who doesn't want anyone to upset him and who would growl at anyone who bothers him. The only people who can get close to him even when he's angry and remain safe and sound are you and your child. He'll still growl at you and your child quietly, but there will be a volume that is the line, like if his growl is louder than that limit it's because he's getting really angry, until then it's just him being him.

Your child will already have the best private teachers and tutors (one of them being Kifaji/Neji if he’s still alive), but even so, Leona will want to make them study and learn more. But in that discreet way that he knows. He will not force them to study more, he will find a way to convince them to want to learn more on their own.

You end up being the most affectionate parent and the one they trust for emotional comfort. Leona is the tough love, you are the soft love (at least in comparison). Leona will always tease you, insinuating that you are too soft and only spoil your child. Although he enjoys when you spoil him too.

He is 100% the ‘Go ask your mom’ kind of dad.

He lets his child take naps with him. And you too.

If he has more than one child, he will police himself not to favor any of them. He may have a tendency to favor the younger ones because of what he went through as the youngest himself, but none of his children will be treated in any special/different way based on their birth order. Neither the youngest nor the oldest.

He will try to convince his child not to be too close (emotionally) to their uncle or cousin, but won't stop them from playing with Cheka. When your child is old enough not to tell others what is said in your home, Leona and them will talk badly about Falena and Cheka behind their backs.

Leona will prefer your child to play with Ruggie and/or his children. On the one hand, he wants to keep them away from his family, but on the other hand, he also wants his child to know what the real world is like, to see both wealth and poverty, to know royalty as they knows their people and only then create their own judgement.

They don't call anyone uncle or aunt other than Falena and his wife. In the same way, Leona also doesn't give cute titles to anyone without being sarcastically. Even when he calls you “love”, “darling”, “honey” or something like that, it's to tease you.

Whenever you go to Shaftlands, whether for democratic reasons or on holiday, you always try to find a way to meet with Jack. Leona pretends that he only helps you with this because you want to see your friend and he wants to get rid of his family. Both you and Jack know that he just doesn't want to admit that he wants to see him too. Jack is the cool parent's friend who taught your child how to snowboard. While they are little they like to hug his tail because it’s fluffy.

Despite everything, he doesn't want his child to have the same lack of hope that he has, and despite trying to hide it, he always feels extremely guilty and bad whenever your child says something like that. At these times he relies on you to be the ray hope in that house, they will both need you for that.

Both Leona and your child are afraid of you when you get really serious or angry.

Do you know that scene from The Lion King where Mufasa uses Zazu to give Simba an pouncing lesson? Leona often does something similar, but instead of the target being a blue bird, it's a magical creature called Grim.

Azul’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)

Azul is an extremely emotional father, despite trying to hide it. There's going to be a lot of moments like: “HE/SHE IS THE CUTEST LITTLE THING IN THE WHOLE- *clears throat* I mean, he/she is such a charming little child.” He will most likely cry at your baby's first words, steps, anything.

Azul is overprotective! If any living creature even thinks about harming your child, he will tortu- that is, find a completely legal way to ensure that it never happens again. Now, if you'll excuse him, he suddenly felt like talking to Jade and Floyd. (The same protectiveness applies to you.)

Although he is very (secretly) emotional and loves to spoil his child, he is also relatively strict about their studies. He likes to spoil them (and you) when it's deserved, but he will not raise a spoiled child! This ends up balancing things out a bit.

He will hide the whole mafia-like part of his life from his child. Dad is just doing business, boring adult stuff. Maybe when your child is older he will start to reveal a little of that side of his life, if they later want to join their father it will be their choice. But until then, let them be innocent children, they are cuter and happier that way, there is time for everything.

He will always hold back his emotional side so as not to be overly affectionate. Unless his child starts crying. At that point his mask falls completely and he becomes the most affectionate and comforting father there can be, that is his weakness.

And if one day the child realizes this and starts using crying to get what they want from him, he won't know whether to be angry that he is being emotionally manipulated by his own child, or proud that they learned so quickly.

You will be the only one immune to the fake crying.

From the beginning, Azul has been wary and suspicious of letting Jade and Floyd be like uncles to your child. However, you two ended up letting this happen, but Azul will always keep an eye open.

Both Jade and Floyd will definitely use the child to play pranks on Azul. Mostly Floyd, Jade prefers to watch and assist. Azul will always be upset with the twins, never with his child. And depending on the severity of the prank, he will turn on his overprotective side and threaten Jade and Floyd that if that happens again they will never see your child again. They never go beyond that limit.

Every now and then when Floyd plays with your child, he will do that joke where he playfully tells them he's going to catch them and bite them. Actually in his playful voice, he doesn't want to scare them. And they will run to Azul and hide behind his legs asking for help while laughing. Or tentacles if they are in their merfolk form.

If you ask them Jade is the scary uncle (only sometimes) but they themselves don't even know why. It's just his vibe or something. However, they are not afraid to ask any of them for something, it being to play or for help.

Azul loves cooking for you and your child, and they love their father's cooking.

You know those little plastic cashiers where kids pretend to have a little shop and try to sell things to people at home? Usually parents or sibling. Azul loves to play this with his child because it is a great and fun way to pass on his knowledge. Both about sales and about taking care of your money. Usually using the Grim as a guinea pig. Grim also likes to play because he always ends up with food in exchange for toy money.

Jamil’s child(ren) call him: Dad (in informal moments) and Father (at formal events)

Jamil needed to learn to express himself more and better emotionally so as not to end up being a cold father without meaning to. He needs your help to teach your child when to hold back and when to know when they are in a safe space to let go.

The only thing that will follow Jamil forever is an inevitable feeling of guilt for your child having the same fate as him, simply for being his child: serving the Al-Asim family with no other choice. But you can be assured that if there is a way to stop this and give his child freedom of choice, whatever that method may be, he will not give up until he finds it and do it! Normally parents want to give their children what they always wanted and could never have, in Jamil's case it’s freedom.

There was something Jamil wanted to do, but he didn't have the courage to ask the Al-Asim for some kind of vacation. But you had! Using your great friendship with Kalim, you managed to get him to allow you to take a vacation long enough for you to travel as a family, as Jmail wanted. Jamil has always wanted to travel alone, but now with you and your child he would like to travel as a family and give his child the experiences he would have liked to have had himself.

He is quite demanding with his child's education and training. However, his attitude towards this is always calm and collected, and he is attentive to his child's limitations and needs. He is a great and responsible tutor, who knows how to distinguish between being a teacher and being a father.

He is usually quite serious, so you and your child are the ones who start messing with him to have fun and make him laugh. It's always nice when he reminds you two that he can also be a tease. Normal or biggest target of your joint teasing ends up being Grim at some point.

During his work as Kalim's servant, Jamil always had to cook a lot and he's not that big a fan of cooking, so so he can rest at home you're the one who cooks most of the time. He will teach you everything you want to learn and at first you will cook together a lot until you feel comfortable cooking alone. But even then he will continue to offer to help you. Your child will continue to say that Jamil's food is tastier, but yours is prettier. And the food you make together is the best because it’s tasty and pretty. Jamil will also encourage his child to cook with you two so that they can learn from a young age.

His child knows that there is only one thing in this world that can make their father scream in fear: Bugs! If your child is also afraid of insects, you're screwed, because you will be the insect killer in that house. However, if it is just the two of them, Jamil's protective instinct will be stronger and despite his fear he will protect his child. If your child is not afraid of insects, then Jamil will have two protectors. “Can you do dad a favor?”; “Where is it?”; “Living room, south wall last time I saw.”; “Does it fly?”; “...Yes.”

Kalim will treat your child almost like one of his own children, for loving you both so much. He got emotional when he found out you were pregnant, he wanted to help pay for your doctor's appointments if necessary (never was), and he got emotional again when your child was born. He loves buying toys for your child too and give them gifts. He would love for Jamil to let them call him Uncle Kalim. And he loves it when your kids play together.

Vil’s child(ren) call him: Father

Vil wants to have a family that is at its best as he likes to be at his best himself. He wants you and your child to be as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside, just as he strives to be as well. However, he would treat a daughter slightly differently than a son because of the different pressures of societal beauty standards.

With a son he would be as strict with him as he is with himself. But with a daughter, he knows she's more likely to suffer from these kinds of things. So although he continues to be relatively strict and wants her to be the best she can be, he ends up being softer with criticism and stronger with praise and soft love than he would be with a son.

He would hire a specialist, like as a child psychologist or something like that, to always know the best ways to rise and protect your child. Children of famous people like him, especially in the digital and social media age, may need more protection from their parents in this regard, in addition to the toxic pressure of comparison that exists. However, because Vil cares so much about your child's personal development as their happiness, he may end up putting enormous pressure on himself to be a perfect parent too.

Both Vil and your child will need you to be the person who brings them both back to the real world and the life of a loving family with flaws like any human being. Vil will always listen to you if you feel he may be being too harsh and demanding with your child, or with himself in terms of parenting.

If you are the type of person who likes to tease Vil by letting yourself be sloppy from time to time, (always at home) then your child will also like to tease their father like that. “You have your mother’s cheekiness, I see.” Vil sighs but laughs. The teasing includes eating sweets and food that Vil would not approve of. You are the parent they ask for things from and who best comforts and pampers them. You two probably team up to make Vil relax and have fun with you.

His child will have the best teachers and tutors, go to the best schools and best establishments for any extracurricular activity they want to have. Vil will probably force them to have an extracurricular activity but they will be free to choose which one.

Rook is OBSESSED with your child! In a respectful way of course, he is just already a huge fan. The result of combining your DNA with Vil's? MERVEILLEUX! He won't hold back the tears when he sees the baby for the first time. He will LOVE playing with your child. He will babysit for free and will be happy to do so if you ever need. It will be a long time before he stops getting so emotional whenever your child calls him "Uncle Rook."

Uncle Epel is the rad uncle, when Vil is not around. He is that person who will help your child do cool activities that Vil may not allow. Like taking a blastcycle ride with him, eat grilled meats, playing with things that make the child very dirty or other things that Vil didn't like Epel to do when they were at NRC. But if at least one parent allows it (you), then there is no problem. Right? All this, of course, when Vil is not around.

When he is there, both Epel and your child behave like little angels. You and Epel have to be very careful that the child doesn't get careless and say something in Epel's dialect in front of Vil. They love Uncle Epel because it is fun to do cool things without their father knowing and with your help.

Your child likes to use Grim as a doll to dress up in cute clothes. The funny thing is that Grim likes it too because your child eventually realizes that if they tell him he looks cool instead of cute, he'll let them keep dressing him up.

Idia’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older)

Idia doesn't believe he can be a good father. A shut-it and antisocial otaku like him? Are you crazy? That's a disaster! He can't take care of himself, how is he going to help you raise a child? However, and especially with you, he also has that overly cocky side that believes that even being an antisocial nerd he would be 1000 times better than a lot of parents out there. So basically he has a tendency to oscillate between these two moods.

In comparison, you are the strict parent, he is the parent who spoils the child. They are both afraid of you when you get upset. He's a ‘Don't tell your mother’ type of dad. He can't say no to his child, but, oddly enough, he can't be emotionally manipulated either. He may even let his child do a lot of things, but even he has limits to what he knows is good or bad for them.

Because he's the permissive father, he's also the scariest when he gets serious. He can never get really mad at his child, but he can say a firm and assertive “No�� if necessary. However, if they are still very young and start crying, he will panic and call you immediately. You will then have to comfort Idia and tell him that no, he did not make a decision that put him on the path to the traumatic and apocalyptic ending. What he probably did was the opposite.

If it depends on him, his child will be a nerd/otaku just like his father. However, he doesn't want them to be socially anxious like him and will always encourage them to go for walks with you outside even if it's without him. That doesn't mean there aren't times you drag him outside with you.

Besides occasionally questioning whether he is being a good father, there is something else that haunts him... He still carries and will probably always carry the feeling of guilt for what happened to Ortho, so he is absolutely TERRIFIED that something like that may happen again.

Idia has always tried to keep your child as far away as possible from all areas that are dangerous or even remotely similar to the hallway where that happened. But if your child ever happens to even enter an area that their father did not allow, they will get to know a side of Idia that sometimes you yourself don’t even remember exists: The overprotective, traumatized side that isn't afraid to scare his child if it means keeping them away from the danger. And probably the only way they'll see his red hair. But it will probably be after that, that the two of you will have an open heart conversation and Idia will apologize.

Now, about Uncle Ortho, they LOVE uncle Ortho! He's the one who goes for a walk with you and your child when you and he can't convince Idia to go too. He is a cheerful uncle who loves to play with your child. You three made up stories to explain why uncle Ortho was a humanoid. You always make up different and crazy stories to jest with them and make them change the subject. The day will come when they will be old enough to know the truth.

Idia may even talk badly about himself a lot of the times, but no matter what his child do, they are talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular and everything good. “Of course that's because they inherited it from you, not me.” He will say with a smile.

Both Idia and your child treat Grim like a pet cat and find it funny to see him getting grumpy.

Idia spoke to his child in that baby voice when they themselves were also babies. And maybe also when they are children to the point where they tell him to stop treating them like babies.

Malleus’s child(ren) call him: Daddy (when little) Dad (when older) Father (at formal events)

The day Malleus found out you were pregnant was already a happy day, but the day your child was born was the happiest day of his life! And every moment with them is the happiest moment of his day. And of course with you too. He totally and completely loves his family!

Anyone who dares to speak ill of the child of Malleus Draconia, especially about the fact that they are half-human, will suffer the consequences! Anyone who spoke openly about the child being something of a disgrace, shame or an abomination was either killed or imprisoned. (Depending on how opposed you really are to Malleus killing or ordering someone to be killed.) and of course, the same applies to talking bad about you.

The problem is that this is doing the same thing to your child that was done to him. He's scaring everyone and making them afraid to come near your child for fear of saying or doing something that might upset them or Malleus. He listens to you and agrees with you, showing concern and thoughtfulness about what should be done. He hates people being disrespectful to the ones he loves, but he also doesn't want his child to go through what he went through.

What ends up happening is that, on Malleus's part, he realizes that he has to start learning ways for people to respect his child without using fear, but to do that he also has to start letting certain insults slide. He doesn't like it, but if it's what's best for his child, he'll do the best he can. Although the same applies if they disrespect you. He hates it so much!

In the case of your child, you are helped by Lilia (if he’s still alive), Silver, Sebek and their families. Perhaps trying to spend more time among their people and with other fae, humans, and half-fae might be beneficial to a child's social development.

Lilia would treat the child as if they were his own grandchild. Even if Silver also has children, they are ALL Lilia's grandchildren! “There's no denying it any longer... I am... officially... an old man... For the best possible reasons!” Everyone will rescue your child from Lilia's food. “Never eat anything that Grandpa Lilia cooks, you hear?”

Silver is the calm uncle who, despite not being the most fun to play with, is the one they turn to when they want to rest and simply have a good chill time. Or take a nap. Probably who they turn to to run away and hide from Sebek when he's being annoying. He ends up being the adult (than is not their parents) that they trust most and feel most comfortable with. Silver is very happy when they ask him for help to get closer to an animal to see it better, and even more so if they and the animals end up interacting and playing with each other.

Now about Uncle Sebek... If there is anyone more protective and flattering of that child than Malleus, it is Sebek. He cried when the child was born, for sure. And cried even more when the child said his name, or whenever they at least tried to. The day they called him "Uncle Sebek" he was about to have a heart attack. The problem is that he ends up being one of those type of person who adores children (although in his case the only ones he likes would be Malleus's and his own children) to the point that the child finds them annoying and clingy. “But don't tell Uncle Sebek that, he'll be sad.”

Whenever the child throws a tantrum that ends up causing their powers to manifest in storms or uncontrolled magic, Malleus will take care of it while you stay away and safe. To him, any attack would be mere tickling, but he always made sure that your child knows that the same does not apply to you. They may end up thinking that you are very fragile while they are little, but it is better this way to ensure that they do not hurt you unintentionally.

This also means that whenever you need to say ‘No’ to your child, Malleus will do it if there is a possibility that they would start throwing tantrums. At least while they are young and cannot control their powers well.

Malleus also runs the risk of being a father who spoils his children.

Your child and Grim probably burn a lot of things around the castle because they play together and they both have fire powers.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

And if you would like to read this but with other characters you can write in the comments. If this post has a lot of notes (likes and reblogs) I might consider making a second part with other characters.

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #Riddle Rosehearts #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper x Reader #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia x Reader

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sugucide · 3 days ago

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Satoru Gojo has made it out of the grave.

In another life, he sits under the sun in the evenings and lazes for the hell of it, not for a ten minute break from the chaos. He enjoys the silence, unlittered by curses and fighting and white burning static. He smiles now and then, when he wants to and never to prove himself to be okay when he isn't.

In another life, there are still dark days. And when the nights are cold and memories of friends never forgotten become haunting, he is free to cry. He finds comfort in his peers, never judgement, and lets himself be sad until the sun rises and his slate is once again clean.

In another life, Satoru Gojo doesn’t have to learn to love his name and the weight it holds. He learns to love his body, his scars, his memories both good and bad. He learns that it’s okay to love, and its okay to fear loss- he learns how to share his meal time with others and accept compliments with one in return rather than a faux over-confidence.

In another life he finds a soulmate. You’re kind and strong and not with him for his name or glory. He doesn’t have to worry himself over protecting you because in another life there is nothing out to get him. You have loving sex each night and can’t keep your hands off each other the morning after either. He learns your body like it’s his own and treats it with the reverence that so many have given the Gojo name—though without the gory weight of responsibility.

Maybe, in another life, he has kids. Probably girls, but maybe a boy or two as well. He isn't a perfect dad, never will be, but he's one that stays and loves and leads by example, not by empty threat and misplaced anger and the expectation of power and greatness. He teaches his daughters what love a man should show his spouse through his affections towards to you. Teaches his son how to love himself before trying to lean on another for love. He raises a family, not a clan.

In another life, he buys a house with a garden. He commits to watching his garden grow, tends to the weeds when they become unruly after he's put it off a little too long. He stays in one place, doesn't feel an urge to move around and stay on edge. He builds a shed and turns it into his space: teaches his kids a secret knock to let him know they're in trouble with you for abandoning their chores and want to hide from the gentle wrath of your loving discipline.

In another life, Suguru comes to visit every weekend. He’s Uncle Suguru to his kids and they sit on the porch and talk over a drink as the sun sets. He doesn’t have to worry about his friend because they speak rather than act. Satoru isn’t so focused on himself. Suguru isn’t so reluctant to ask for help.

In another life, he enjoys the quiet of domesticity. He’s not facing death each day—not shaping students up to kill and exorcise. He eats good, and lots, and thanks you for every meal by doing the dishes wrong and growing confused when you take over yourself to do it right.

In another life, he keeps photo albums. They're off in some box in the attic he has to strain his back to find, and they're worn out and dusty and some of the faces he used to see every day are seen for the first time in years when he pulls them out to show the grandkids. They show interest in his stories, albeit half-feigned and more interested in giggling at how cute his friends were back in the day. He laughs along with them.

In another life, he’s old and gray and still makes the effort to dance with you in the living room to the old music he loves. He kisses you goodnight before bed and good morning when you wake him for breakfast. You go on date nights, because he’s never too busy fighting curses to be with his one love. He feels like a teenager in love every day, even well into his senior years.

In another life, all is well: he lays down in his grave with a smile, having lived a hard life, but one worth reliving over and over and over again. He does first, because he couldn’t bear to lose you, and he dies happy.

But thats in another life—one where he wasn’t doomed from the day he was born. Maybe his next life, if he’s so lucky.

#satoru gojo #gojo #gojo x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen

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dreamingdormouse · 1 day ago

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Back when Mr. Dormouse was in the Navy, he was for a couple years assigned to Pearl Harbor, as a nuclear mechanic on the submarine engines. (My husband is one of the most brilliant people I know, by the way, that's a very difficult job to get. But also it's hard work, long hours, lots of stress, and not very good pay.)

Shortly before I arrived to join him, his gross-motor twitches became more pronounced. They'd started when he was in training, and gotten stronger over time. He would be thinking about something or working on something, and abruptly his arm would flail out to the side, or his leg would kick like you'd found the right spot to tap with the little reflex hammer.

This was not as dangerous as Gallus's Dad without his glasses and with a gun, but still rather hazardous, as Mr. Dormouse quite often had a wrench in his hand, which was wont to go flying if his arm jerked!

His coworkers teased him about it in the friendly/mean way that is common in the military. He began the process of getting it checked out - the military, for all its flaws, has/had an amazing health care system.

The docs on base ended up deciding that

1) It's not Tourette's (which can manifest physically as well as the more well-known version of accidental cussing)

2) It's very similar, though, but, uh... not actually any of the things in our textbook?

3) Stress makes it worse

4) Sorry, Chief Petty Officer Dormouse, there's nothing else we can do for you

5) But you really shouldn't be in the military anymore

Well that was helpful.

Worse, commanding officers didn't care. Wouldn't hear of discharging him early. On the plus side, the submarine he was assigned to was in drydock for a year or more of preventative maintenance (if it was a car, it would've had an oil change, tires rotated, rust inspection, emissions test, the works), so at least he wasn't underwater like that, on multi-week trips, in a crowded environment 24/7.

The other engineer/mechanics around him knew he wanted to get a medical discharge. They began to joke that they should assign him to stand close to the officers, carrying a knife. Not in a threatening manner, oh no! Just as a tool. It wouldn't be anyone's fault if he just... twitched. And maybe then the officers would get the idea that this guy shouldn't be in the military?

Eventually somebody with some ability to sign papers decided to do so, and Mr. Dormouse was assigned to the equivalent of garden duty - a stint in the quartermaster's office. It took another 6-9 months before he got his discharge, because there wasn't a form for "IDK, I think it's Tourette's-adjacent, should we do another brain scan?" like there is for myopia or a heart murmur.

But at last he got out of the Navy and went to college for nuclear engineering, and it's been more than a decade. Not being in the military took away a lot of the stress, so these days he barely twitches at all. Sometimes it just looks like a full body shiver, and it happens a lot less frequently.

He does tell me that it is quite traditional to get stuck with the pin when a medal is being awarded, so it's possible that Captain Redacted lightly stabbed Gallus's Dad on purpose and as per custom. But it also might've been the whiskey. 🥴

The Hummingbird

The Story of my Father’s Very Brief military career.

Content Warnings: Military, guns, hummingbirds, Profanity, Lots of Profanity, spectacular incompotence, catholicism mention, alcohol mention.

As usual, all names have been changed or redacted to protect people’s privacy.

In the fall of 1969, my Dad was hit by a car and suffered a serious concussion, causing him to miss midterms and put his grade in a hole he wouldn’t be able to recover from, as this was the days before a lot of professorial accountability. Like a sensible person, he decided to Withdraw for the semester and focus on recovering and maybe take a part-time job to pay for spring tuition, because you could do that back then.

“Son,” My grandfather asked, sitting on the couch with Dad shortly after he was discharged from the hospital. “What about your college deferment? I’m worried about you getting drafted.”

“Dad,” Dad said, filling in job applications. “I’m legally blind without my glasses! I’d be a danger to anyone around me with a gun. Even if I get drafted there’s no way in hell I’d pass the medical exam.”

“Don’t swear in my house.” Said Grandpa, under the entirely mistaken impression that the US Military was run with any sort of competence.

Literally a week later my Dad’s draft papers came in, and he reported to his local draft board, driver’s license and doctor’s note in hand to prove He Is Legally Blind Without His Glasses, only to be waved through without so much as a sideways glance by anyone resembling a doctor.

“They must be desperate.” My dad concluded when he got home that night to pack.

The news was devastating to the family, as both his parents had siblings to WWII. Grandpa was ready to beg, bribe and otherwise compromise his intensely catholic morals to get Dad out, and Grandma prayed to any available saint that would save her son from the fate of her brothers. She had quite the collection of saints in her sewing room, some forty figurines and dozens more candles and images, along with some stained glass she’d made herself of saints, landscapes and animals, including a large hummingbird that lived on the sewing room window since they’d moved into the house.

Dad pleaded with them to not do anything they’d regret, and returned to the base for basic training.

Dad’s drill sergeant was a man whose real name was “Ross” but insisted on being called “Bulldog” or “SIR!” by everyone depending on rank. Dad supposed this might have been a defense mechanism as Bulldog had an intensely jowled and acne-scarred face that did greatly resemble a fighting dog well past their prime. The image was not helped by the fact that he was constantly smoking rose-flavored tobacco in a pipe that had seen better centuries, and consequently smelled like a terrible combination of trailer park and the women’s perfume counter at Macy’s.

Bulldog was also… not great about following protocol, which is a terrible failing in a Drill sergeant, but Dad supposed at that point in the war Bulldog had become horribly depressed by the sheer numbers of young men he was sending to their deaths and had kind of stopped giving a fuck about their safety and his own.

Which lead to an incident about three weeks into Dad’s training camp when in the middle of a Weapons Qualification lesson, Bulldog pulled Dad’s glasses off and bellowed “YOU WON’T HAVE THOSE COKE BOTTLES WHEN THOSE [incorrect slurs, because there’s no such thing as an informed bigot] BLAST YOUR ASS TO KINGDOM COME.” before stomping off to go change the paper targets, leaving Dad standing there with an M-1, squinting in what he hoped was the general direction of the targets.

To give you an idea of HOW bad my dad’s vision is, I once asked him at what distance things got blurry, and he responded by taking off his glasses, putting his hand up to his face, and slowly moving it back. He stopped about eight inches from his face and nodded.

“So I can see my hand from here but I can’t distinguish my fingers. I think that green blob over there is your mother.”

“I’m in the living room.” called mom. “You’re looking at the blender.”

So it should come as no surprise that as soon as Dad heard someone shouting “Ready! Aim! Fire!” He did precisely that.

Hummingbirds are often mistakenly characterized as Delicate Little Rainbows that are a gift Direct from Heaven when the truth is they’re really Vicious Little Bastards thrown out of Hell for being too Nasty.

You would be too if you could eat nothing but frappuccinos and the occasional chicken nugget, everything around you was at least the size of a pickup truck and regarded you as a tasty snack, and you were forced to defend your fridge from not only equally vicious rivals but goddamn insects that are bigger than you are.

Being a hummingbird is awful under normal circumstances, and now there are maniacs with loud machines and projecties as big as you are stomping around and yelling and well-

At that exact moment, one of the nesting hummingbirds, having grown progressively more exasperated with the activity on the base, dive-bombed my father, hurling it’s tiny body directly into his ear and slicing the lobe up, and making him jerk slightly as he fired.

He missed Sergeant Bulldog by mere inches. Dad still isn’t sure if the Hummingbird caused him to miss or put him closer to accidental manslaughter, but it mattered little as Bulldog grabbed him by the head, shrieking in spittle-flying fury-

“ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND?” He roared.

“YES!!” screamed my father, also hysterical. “SIR THAT’S WHAT THOSE ‘COKE BOTTLES’ ARE FOR SIR!”

Bulldog stopped, suddenly and uncomfortably confronted with the nature of causality. He only let it stymie him for a moment. “GET YOUR IDIOT ASS TO THE MEDIC, I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!”

At the medical center, an extremely befuddled doctor dilated Dad’s eyes, took pictures because Dad had the worst case of myopia he’d ever seen and wanted to put him in a medical journal, and asked him:

“What the HELL are you doing here?”

“Very nearly shooting people sir.”

“Well, we can’t have you shooting people while you’re in the army! I’ll get your medical discharge started.”

Dad decided not to comment on that statement, thanked the doctor, and wandered blindly back to his bunk.

It took them a full thirty days to process Dad’s discharge, perhaps largely due to the fact that actually FINDING the captain was a task for hercules- The man had an almost phobic aversion to his office and a tremendous love of whiskey so actually locating the man and early enough in the day that he was still sober enough to sign anything was a race against time and a battle against the wits of a man determined to get out of work, which is when humanity is at its peak intelligence.

In the meantime, it simply wouldn’t do to let dad bike the five miles back to his home and come back for the paperwork, nor let him sit quietly and not accidentally maim anyone, so he was put on garden duty.

Supervised by recently-suspended-from-instruction Sergeant “Bulldog” Ross.

By the second day Bulldog had mostly run out of steam, perhaps out of a sense of really, whose fault was that? So He would mostly stand in Dad’s general vicinity, waxing philosophical on the nature of war, government and whatever else he could be crotchety about that day while continuously smoking his rose-flavored tobacco in his pipe. Dad planted a frankly absurd number of flowers, trying to make a planted display that would spell out the name of the base in eight-foot letters, just in case someone has managed to miss all 824,594,359 signs beforehand.

On day five, perhaps attracted by the bright colors or the stench of artificial rose, the Hummingbirds found the new garden.

At first, it was timid little trips to the edge farthest from Dad and Bulldog, testing this new territory for both risk and bounty, but upon finding it full of sugary goodness, they became bold, getting closer and closer to Dad, zipping in as soon as he got up to get the next flat of flowers, then not waiting for him to finish planting them before they were up in his face, squeaking angrily for him to get out of the way of their lunch.

One male objected to Dad and Bulldog’s presence particularly strongly, dive-bombing and buzzing angrily at them, an ounce and a half of glittery impotent rage. After a month, he’d gotten quite aggressive, and one day flew directly up to Bulldog’s face to chitter curses at him eye-to-eye, only for Bulldog to take out his pipe and blow a cloud of smoke at him, laughing as the bird tumbled over backwards in midair.

Agitated with the sudden noxious cloud, or perhaps merely a violent psychopath in its own right, the bird flew back, then straight up into the air for a good fifty feet before going into a dive, aimed directly at Bulldog’s face.

Dad doesn’t recall actually moving, only a sense that he ought to do something, and launched himself out of the dirt, arms outstretched to clap and force it off course-

“SHIT! What the hell was that for?” Demanded Bulldog.

“Well, the hummingbird looked like it was going to attack you, Sir. So I stopped it.”

“How noble. What are you standing there like an idiot for?”

“…I think I caught it sir.” Said Dad, staring at the tiny bill poking out from between his gloves. The two of them leaned in close as dad very slowly opened his gloves and peered inside.

The hummingbird immediately forced it’s tiny head out to peep furious profanities at them both.

“How is it,” Bulldog wondered aloud as the hummer continued to curse the both of them for the next seven generations. “That you can’t see to hit the broad side of a barn but can pull a shitty little bird right out of the air?”

“I’m wearing my glasses, Sir.”

Bulldog looked up at him, glaring with such intensity his face ceased to be a face at all and transformed into a dali-esque collection of wrinkles.

“Fuck you. Now go take that damn thing to the other side of the base so it doesn’t come back.”

“Yes sir.” Dad nodded, nearly saluting out of reflex before remembering that he was holding a live and very angry bird. It took him several hours to get to the other side of the base, with literally everyone stopping to ask him what the hell he was doing, well I have this bird sir and I was told to release it on the other side of the base- how in hell did your blind ass catch a hummingbird, well I had my glasses on- Fuck you, go ditch that thing already.

At three o'clock on the dot the very next morning, two MPs woke up my dad and told him he needed to report to the front office right away, no time to get dressed, right away right now.

They marched him directly to the main office, barefoot and in his Pajamas to be greeted by not only Sergeant “Bulldog” ross, but nearly every officer on the base, including the lieutenant and the Captain, all of whom were… attempting to stand at attention with varying degrees of success, most weaving slightly, some snorting with poorly-concealed laughter, and the entire room reeking of booze.

“GENTLEMEN!” hiccuped the lieutenant, before shaking himself and continuing, “WE ARE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO HONOR OUR ‘COMRADE’ -snort, giggle- IN ARMS -louder derisive laughter- FOR HIS BRAVERY AND SERVICE IN THE FACE OF EXTREME DANGER-”

“IN THE BEAK OF EXTREME DANGER!” Howled one of the assembled officers.

“-AND FOR HIS SERVICE IN DEFENDING AN OFFICER OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY. I AM ~SO~ PLEASED THAT WE HAVE CAPTAIN [REDACTED] HERE WITH US TO PRESENT THIS MEDAL.”

He turned to the Captain, who took out a small box and motioned Dad forward. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a chocolate box from See’s Candies.

“[REDACTED], in honor of your brave and frankly improbable service in the defense of Euge- sorry, Sergeant Ross, and the capture of a dangerous wild animal, we award you this medal- The Flying Purple Bastard.”

He opened the chocolate box to reveal this*:

(Image Description: A piece of cardboard cut out approximately in the silhouette of a hummingbird, by someone with only a passing familiarity with what hummingbirds look like. The cardboard has been haphazardly covered in tinfoil and cartoon eyes drawn on. It’s attached to a scrap of ribbon and a safety Pin.)

Which was then pinned crookedly to Dad’s nightshirt, after accidentally stabbing him a bit, saluted him as someone attempted to play the bugle but made a rather melodious farting noise instead, then slapped Dad in the face with a manilla folder full of papers and shouted. “DISMISSED!”

“Dismissed, sir?”

“Those are your discharge papers.” Said Bulldog. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Yes, Sir!”

At which point Dad biked home in the rain, and thus ends my father’s military career.

*Pictured here is actually The Flying Purple Bastard 2.0, as the original was destroyed when partially eaten and fully regurgitated by one of the cats.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Paypal, as due to health concerns, telling funny stories on the internet is my ONLY means of income. Thank you!

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pretty-little-mind33 · 1 day ago

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Dad!James Potter x wife!fem!reader

Summary: Telling James you're pregnant again is scary.

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: reader is pregnant, vomiting

~ set after Santa Baby and before Snow On The Beach ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

Date nights were extremely important to James. Since Henry's birth, he was adamant that his alone time with you was something he didn't want to neglect, even if there was a child in the picture.

Now that Henry was nine, convincing Sirius and Remus to babysit wasn't hard. Especially since they would bring their four year old, Cassiopeia, with them and Henry would graciously play her while you and James went out.

Tonight's date isn't any different than the others, except that you're a bundle of jumping nerves. It certainly doesn't help that James looks positively stunning with his dark hair slicked back, a few loose curls arrayed across his forehead, and his dark suit, which conveniently matches the velvet navy dress you're wearing.

The restaurant is fancy. It's James's favorite and you secretly think one of the reasons is he likes showing you how much he can spoil you, as if he hadn't been doing just that for the past thirteen years. He'd ordered this fancy appetizer, along with some wine you haven't touched and was currently talking about work. Taking over his father's company was putting some stress on him, which you understood.

"You know, I can't wait till Harry starts school, not that I won't miss the little bugger," James chuckles behind his wine glass, his mind wandering, "but because we'll have more time. Just us."

His words cause your stomach to sink. How are you supposed to tell him now, you think. James, always observant to your emotions, frowns when he sees your expression.

"You okay, you look like you're going to be sick—"

As he speaks, the nausea hits you hard and you stand, holding a hand over your mouth as you rush to the nearest bathroom without any warning. You clumsily throw yourself on the ground, vomiting into the toilet and you choke on an embarrassed sob.

James is hot on your heels the moment you leave dinner so abruptly, running into the women's bathroom without a care in the world. The older women, who'd been mildly appalled by your vomiting, send him some dirty looks but he doesn't pay them any mind as he opens the stall. He kneels next to you, gently gathering your hair in his hand as he uses the other one to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Hey, my love, what happened?" He asks between soothing words, his hand strokes your hair as you slump against him, tears glistening in your waterline.

Your husband isn't stupid and he knows you. He looks into your eyes and he understands instantly. His breath hitches as he remembers just how bad your 'morning' sickness was when you were pregnant with Henry, lasting and becoming even worse in the evenings. His gaze softens instantly and clicks his tongue. "Why didn't you tell me?" he scolds half-heartedly, still rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You sniffle, wiping your mouth with an enormous amount of toilet-paper as you whimper, "I felt like I was going to disappoint you, you seemed so happy for time alone and—"

"And now we are going to have another baby," James finishes for you, kissing your temple as he helps you up and brings you to the sink. He pushes hair behind your face as he gently takes some paper-towel, wets it, and gently runs it under your chin and around your mouth. You look miserable and his heart breaks.

He doesn't say anything for a moment as he washes your hands, washing his in the process as well. Your mind races. You don't know what to think, what to feel about this new life growing inside you.

He places his large palm on your stomach. You're not showing, yet. You flinch, sniffing. "Why so sad, love?" he whispers as he tries to comfort you.

"You're upset," you whisper, looking at your appearance in the mirror. You look like a mess.

James grins. "Says who?" He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead again.

You look on the verge of tears again and your husband's smile falters. He leans down, catching your gaze so you're looking at him properly. "Hey, love, please don't cry okay? I'm not upset, I promise. I'm happy. So so happy, really," James reassures you, a familiar glint of sincerity in his eyes. "We are having another baby. This is the best news, okay?"

Tension eases in your shoulders and you finally relax. The warm feeling of happiness seeps back into you. You sniff again, looking into his eyes. "Promise?"

He straightens himself and holds out his pinky for you to take. "I pinky promise." You hook your pinky with his and he leans down, kissing his closed fist. You hesitate, finally cracking a small smile as you do the same.

"Excuse me? This is the ladies room," a snark voice calls from behind you both and you look towards the voice. A woman is standing tensely in the doorway, gripping the hand of her young daughter, and she's glaring daggers at James.

The little girl looks confused and she's clearly feeling the fear her mother is and you can tell from James's expression he feels bad.

"Sorry." He waves his hands in the air, his cheeks dusted pink, as he points to you, "My wife was sick—I was just leaving—" James looks your way and mouths, "You coming?"

You nod, taking his hand, as he leads you out the door. You mumble a small apology to the woman and James sends a small reading smile to the girl, hoping not to scare her.

Once your back at your table, James gulps down his wine and looks at you sheepishly. "Oops," he mutters. You smile and cover your giggles. James's smile widens when you laugh and he reaches over, resting his hand over yours.

"Seriously, baby," he says, seriously now, "I'm really happy. And Henry will be happy too."

You rub your temples, taming some of the wisps of hair that fall in front of your eyes. "Yeah? You think so?"

James laughs, "No. He's gonna be furious," he pauses when he sees that his joke isn't landing and he squeezes your hand. "I'm joking. He'll be the best big brother. He's already so good with Cassi, he's practically an older brother already."

You smile. "He is, isn't he?"

James hums, that giddy smile of his returning. "Pregnant. Again," he muses, "I can't believe how lucky I am," he says and looks at you like you're the brightest star in the universe. You feel your cheeks warm. "I love you."

"I love you more," you say back, bringing his knuckles to your lips.

James grins and when he catches glimpse of your untouched wine glass, a smirk curls his lips and shake his head, clicking his tongue. "Can't drink this, baby," he teases you and slides it over to his side. You roll your eyes.

"I wasn't," you argue playfully.

"Hmm?"

You swat his hand, knowing he's teasing you on purpose to lighten the mood. Still, your nerves have calmed and you aren't feeling as nauseous anymore. In fact, you can finally truly feel excited now. Another baby. You smile.

Once the food arrives and the topic of conversation had changed to James excitedly coming up with new baby names, you feel at ease again and warmth spreads in your stomach.

You move your foot under the table, gently touching James's ankle—just to let him know you love him. James doesn't mention it but his smile widens as he speaks, a look of adoration and love sparkling in his eyes.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagines #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter x fem!reader #dad!james #dad!james potter #dad!james potter x reader #dad!james potter x fem!reader #dad!james potter x wife!reader #james potter x wife!reader #aaron taylor johnson

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romanreignsbae · 2 days ago

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Baby Daddy - J.U

A/N: just in favour of our very own main event jey uso winning the royal rumble!!! well deservedly! haters can suck his dick!!

warnings: smut & fluff (hope y’all enjoy!)

Another weekly exchange took place at your home per usual. Every Tuesday Josh would come and pick up your son Elijah until Wednesday evening. Due to his hectic road life, he really only got a day a week to spend time with his son. Josh took every single moment he got with his son, and savoured it. The problems you two had could never come in to say that Josh wasn’t an amazing dad.

Your son Elijah, was the best thing that ever happened to the both of you. You and Josh were high school sweethearts. You never once thought you would get pregnant with his child..at least not anytime soon. But in your last year of college, with a simple week of morning sickness, emotional breakdowns, and crazy cravings, you found out you would now be eating for two. And from there on out it was history.

Josh was ecstatic he was gonna be a father. From a young age he’s always dreamed of being an amazing father. He was even more happier when he found out the two of you would be expecting a boy. He was already picturing throwing around a football with his son, and teaching him all about his samoan family lineage. And even you were ecstatic.

You delivered a healthy baby boy, whom was loved by all the family around him. However for you and Josh, your relationship only weakened from that moment on. Josh was in desperate need of a job, and because of his family background, he turned to wrestling. As much as wrestling was looked at as a glamorous job, it wasn’t all that it seemed. Josh was constantly on the road, and even when he was home, he would be on interview calls or hitting the gym. You on the other hand, were just as busy as Josh. The two of you were constantly on the go and never has time for each other. So you both decided it’d be better if you broke up.

Well, it was you who broke up with Josh. It took a lot of guts to do so, but it had to be done. It was for the better…it seemed. Josh could never take the words ‘broke up’ to his heart, so he used ‘on a break’. You thought it was a immature and delusional way to deny reality, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Dada!” Elijah squealed as Josh walked through the door of your home. “Hey buddy! My mini uce!” Josh spoke back with just as much excitement. Your 2 year old son, ran on wobbly legs towards his daddy. You smiled at the sight. Josh handled Elijah on one hip, while turning to you.

“What’s up Y/n..” he spoke while Elijah was grabbing at his face. “Hey Josh, how are you?” you spoke back nervously avoiding eye contact. The truth was you’d never gotten over Josh. The road broke you two apart, also breaking your heart at the same time. You love Josh with your whole heart to this moment. He was your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first time, and now the father of your child. When you broke up with him, you only broke your own heart too.

Now 2 years later after breaking up with him, you still want him more then ever. “I’m doing alright. Busy ya know. Well ima take Eli…i’ll see you tomorrow when I drop him off..” he told you while turning towards your door but not before grabbing Eli’s bags. “No! Mama! Come with us!” Elijah screamed out while kicking his feet all over the place.

Josh let Elijah down on the floor and he wobbled over to you. “Mama! Come with us to dada house! All of us!” he spoke on the verge of tears. “Baby..it’s dada’s time with you, i’ll see you tomorrow..” you spoke softly while caressing his little chubby cheek. “Please mama!” he cried out. He had never acted this way before.

“Baby..” you started speaking before getting cut off. “Y/n, I don’t mind if you come with us, you know it’s been a while” Josh cut you off. “Yay! See mama come with us!” Elijah then squealed. You thought about being with Josh for a long period of time, and it made you nervous yet excited. But for your baby, you would go.

“Okay, you guys wait in the car i’ll be there in a minute” you spoke softly. After grabbing your bag and some stuff you would need, you made your way out of your home locking the door behind you. You made your way into Joshua’s car, sitting in the passenger seat.

The car ride to Josh’s house was about a hour away, including the busy traffic. Josh blasted music the whole way to his house, to avoid the awkward silence. Elijah was dosing off in the back, and you took small glances at Josh when you got the chance. You felt him staring too, which only added tension.

Without either of you speaking a word to each other the whole ride, you made you way inside Josh’s beautiful beach side mansion. “Wow Josh! This place is beautiful!” you spoke astonished. He smiled at you. “Thanks...coulda been yours too..” he mumbled the last part thinking you didn’t hear. You did hear, loud and clear, which only added to your regret of breaking up with Josh. You knew he missed you, and you knew he still wanted you. You just couldn’t bring yourself to admit the fact you were still in love with him.

The evening was spent with you, Josh, and Elijah playing board games together, sitting together eating dinner, and ended with watching ‘The Lion King’ all together on Josh’s massive L shaped couch.

“He’s asleep” Josh spoke quietly. You looked down to your side to see Elijah fast asleep. “Yeah he is” you agreed. “Lemme go put him in bed, wait here.”

You waited for Josh, wanting to know why he wanted you to wait. You should be back home right now. ‘Aight..” Josh mumbled walking back into the living room, making his presence known.

He sat beside me on the couch and waited a minute before talking. “Y/n..ion even know where to start, there’s so much I have to admit to you..lemme start off by saying, I miss you, a lot.” he admitted.

You softly smiled. You were happy Josh admitted this so now you could get everything off your chest. “Josh, you don’t even know how much I regret breaking up with you back then..we were just in such a bad place and I was so scared that you’d find someone else while you were on the road, and truth is i’ve never stopped loving you..” you admitted.

He smiled at you showing off his pearly whites. “I love you too baby” he leaned in and your lips met for a soft kiss. You felt him grab your hips and pull you on top of his lap. While sensually kissing he moved your hips on top of his in a circular motion, creating friction. You gasped in pleasure softly.

You could feel a tent beginning to grow under you, adding to your pleasure. Josh groaned out. You took charge and pulled back from the kiss. “Life your arms up” you mumbled out of breath. Josh complied, and you took his shirt off.

“You sure?” Josh asked. You needed this desperately. After you broke up with Josh, you had no time to be with anyone sexually, and you missing him didn’t help the matter. “Yes, im positive” you spoke back.

You felt Josh’s hands roaming your clothed body, and he began stripping you piece by piece. Your body shivered at the sudden contact with the cold air. You were now left in only your panties, as Josh was left in his boxers. He once again moved his head down towards mines and shared a passion full kiss. Our tongues fought for dominance in which he won.

He broke away from your lips and peppered kisses on your jaw, then moving to your neck. You were surprised when you felt him sucking extra hard on your sweet spot, even after these few years, he remembered where you were extra sensitive.

“J-josh please!” you squeaked out. He continued his assault on your neck, and you swore you could feel his lips curve into a smile. “What you want mama?” he mumbled. “You..”

He pulled back from your neck and peppered kisses down towards your chest. He grabbed one of your breasts and massaged it in his large hand.

He then lowered his head down and softly took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. You let out a moan to the feeling of his mouth. He did the same with your other breast and peppered kisses down your stomach.

He continued his kisses down to your thighs, once in a while biting down softly causing you to squeal. He was purposely denying the spot your body craved him most. Josh always knew how to drive you insane before finally giving into what you wanted.

He slowly slid your panties off in one swift motion exposing your core to the cold air. Your body was now covered in goosebumps hence the chilliness of the room.

“Missed this pretty pussy..” he mumbled while running his finger through your folds. “Yeah, yeah whatever just-” you were cut off by his head suddenly being pushed between your thighs and his mouth hungrily devouring you. You moaned out in ecstasy. You had almost forgot how talented Josh’s mouth was matched with your lower set of lips.

He sucked hastily at your clit almost sending you over the edge. You began grinding your hips onto his face, causing him to pull away quickly. “Baby if you gon cum its gon be on this dick” he spoke with deep chuckle. You whined at sudden loss of warmth from your lower region.

Josh chuckled at your neediness. As he took off his boxers revealing his hard length. You felt so touch deprived, as you moaned out into the chilly air of the room evoking a deep chuckle from him. “I gotchu baby, I gotchu..”

The tip of his dick slowly stretched you out as you almost practically screamed at the amazing sensation. Josh continued entering inside you at a steady pace allowing you to adjust to the now unfamiliar feeling. Your eyes were droopy as you looked up to see him with his mouth open as his eyes were also fluttering shut. “Damn baby, you always so tight for me, just for daddy..” he barely choked out.

Once he was fully inside you, he began thrusting into you at a very slow pace, prolonging the beautiful orgasm he knew you were on the verge of having. “P- please, daddy..please faster” you asked quietly barely being able to speak.

Without warning Josh began moving at a speed you could barely keep up with, causing you both to moan loudly with pleasure. “We gotta keep it down baby..we don’t want Eli wakin up” he spoke while not once slowing his pace.

The familiar feeling began brewing inside your lower belly, tingling all around signalling you were close. “I’m almost- i’m gonna” you choked out on the verge of tears. You forgot how intense sex was with Josh.

“I know baby, I know..” he mumbled while moving his hand down to playing with your clit sending you straight over the edge. “Fuck Josh!” you wailed as he held you down with his arm as you convulsed.

He continued chasing his own nut at a severe pace, which was slightly overestimating you. Before you could get a word out you felt his warm speed paint the walls of your now swole pussy.

He moved off you, lying down on the couch beside you gathering you in his arms before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you baby, and I want us to be a family this time, for real.”

“Mmm yeah me too, love you Josh..” you whispered as sleep overcame your body, while you slept in the arms of the man you have always and always will love.

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fromchaostocosmos · 1 day ago

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Grew up Orthodox and Ashkenazi and the norm is for girls to have Bat Mitzvah party.

In my community growing usually her class is invited. The father and the Bat Mitzvah girl will give a speech on the Torah portion of that week.

The father will talk about the kind person he sees his daughter becoming and hopes she will be.

Hers is very much a Dvrai Torah type.

There is usually a joke about how the dad wrote the speech, a lot of girls I knew their dad's did write their speeches.

You eat, you dance.

Have big it is, how many people, where all depend on the how much money is spent.

In my community we did Bencher so there would a commemorative Bencher, I would have the blessings for after meals, and it was generally the kind that is like trifold type. It would have the English name and Hebrew name and English date and Hebrew date.

Amongst the friends of the Bat Mitzvah girl during my time is was a thing to take an empty wine bottle and put trinkets in it and a poem. And then drip colorful wax on it. And like fill it will water and cork it up.

Turn it into a shaker. Then you read the poem and present it to her, it was like huge. Don't know if it is still a thing and how many other communities did that.

Also when I had my Bat Mitzvah it was starting to take off in my community for the Bat Mitzvah girl to do like a special charity thing at her party in honor of her Bat Mitzvah.

I don't remember what I did at mine, but it is now like very much the norm where I grew up so they will pick a charity and then champion it at their party and have like an event for it at the party. As well do something for it leading up to the Bat Mitzvah itself.

Also some families will host a kiddush at their shul on the Shabbat of the week of the girl's Hebrew Birthday.

I was very excited to write my speech and spent a lot of time on it (not that I can remember any of it). I sat with a bunch of books filled with Midrashim and my dad kept offering to help and was like no thank you I want to do this myself. I only showed it to him after to get his thoughts.

I also did dairy food which was really uncommon because I prefer dairy over meat.

So I've been to like one or two very over the top parties because those families had the means for them but most of them were nothing like that.

And even the those very over the top ones are nothing like what was depicted in the movies and tv shows.

Like I wore a fancy dress and I got that dress from Gamach. So like yeah I really wish that the excitement and seriousness was what depicted.

Because yes 12 and 13 year old are going to be excited and at times childish when it comes to their Beni Mitzvah and they are going to want it be perfect, but they also take it seriously. They have an understanding of the responsibility that comes with all of this.

And that is never what is shown. And it is really frustrating and upsetting.

Different communities and different Branches will have different ways of celebrating and showing that celebration. We aren't all going to look exactly the same.

But we do all teach our children the importance and deeper meaning of what is happening. So even if there is a party because it is a Simcha our children still understand that it is not just about the party and all that comes with that. They understand that the spiritual side, the weight that comes with this new chapter of life.

And that is what is never shown, depicted, or displayed in movies and tv shows thereby giving a very superficial look at what is going and making us look extremely materialistic and twisting what is a celebration of being able to do more Mitzvot and such into being all about the base self and desires.

I'm just gonna say something, Bar/Bat/B'nai mitzvahs are a celebration, they often but not always come with an after party and depending on the means of the parents of the lucky 13 year old they can be over the top sometimes. Much like rich kids with sweet 16s or Quinceañera.

okay thats out of the way, what I wanted to say is, I'm SICK of every media depiction of a Bar/Bat Mitzvah as a 100 million dollar, biggest party on the planet celebration of conspicuous consumption. Almost ALWAYS missing the you know Bar Mitzvah itself, and again depicting Jews over and over again as INSANELY wealthy. Like not everyone, hell not MOST people's Bar Mitzvah was huge and expensive.

another thing, I know by definition no 13 year old is cool, by definition they are greasy and annoying and cringe. But EVERY depiction of a Bar/Bat Mitzvah where the boy or girl of the hour is both an awkward loser and (particularly the boys) sleazy little creeps who are trying WAY too hard to impressive with their garishly massive (and expensive) party (and how often they quote how much something costs as if a 13 year old would know or care) it just seem a little close to the old antisemitic stereotype of Jews as crass and uncouth social climbers desperately trying to use their money to buy their way into classy society and forever failing.

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sinnabarmoth · 1 day ago

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A Pair of Plushies

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: I got this cute interaction playing the claw machine and it just screamed Sylus wanting to make two of MC. AKA, Sylus wants to be a girl dad.

Content warnings: Adult language. Breeding kink. P in v. Porn with feelings. Pregnancy fic. Tooth rotting fluff!

Length: 9500

It is strange how such profound changes in your life can come from the most mundane of instances. You were having a pretty normal day, you had just gotten off of work and were relaxing with your boyfriend at the arcade. Sylus was braving the afternoon to come out and see you. Your schedules were pretty different since he was awake almost exclusively during the night and you worked during the day.

But you were together today and were at one of the claw machines trying to get even more plushies. You had accumulated an impressive collection but there were always more that you wanted. Today you were at the machine giving Sylus directions to help him get the hearty hearts plushie.

The plushie fell into the bin and you clapped happily as he retrieved it and handed it to you.

“Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable!” you said, holding the little heart plushie to your chest.

Sylus shook his head. “Aren’t you tired of seeing something that looks exactly the same?”

“Never! That’s what makes it cute. Just imagine waking up to two little plushies right beside you--” You paused, noticing the way Sylus’s gaze focused. “Why are you suddenly staring at me?”

He smirked. “I’m looking at the mirror behind you. Having two of you wouldn’t be too bad, actually.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking that he had meant that in some salacious way and turned back to the machine. The rest of your afternoon passed, after you left the arcade you stopped by a cafe for drinks and you noticed Sylus was still staring at you much in the same way he was back at the arcade.

You were used to Sylus staring at you but there was something off about it. Usually when he stared it was because he had something dirty on his mind. It usually meant the second you were alone he would be crowding you against the nearest flat surface. But you didn’t get that from him today. He looked almost wistful, a small serene smile on his face.

You gave his leg a tap under the table. “What are you so smiley about?” you asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No. Just thinking about something.” he leaned back in his chair, giving you one more complete glance over and nodded. “Yes. I think that will do very well.”

“What are you talking about? Do I get to know?”

He only smiled. “Remember when you told me to imagine waking up to two of the same plushies every morning?”

“Yeah…I think I see where this is going.” Either this was going to be a sex in front of a mirror request or possibly a desire for more plushies. You had a feeling you knew which one he was referring to though. “And I will say I am open to it.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Really? I only just decided to ask and you’re already on board?”

“It’s not like it’s that big a request. I feel like I’ve done far stranger things, especially with you.” you shrugged.

“Not a big request? And what exactly have you done that is stranger?”

“Well I’m not going to talk about that in a cafe.” you said. “Isn’t this something that should wait to be discussed at home?”

“We can, of course. If that would make you most comfortable.” he was grinning even wider, “There is a lot more to discuss about it that we are going to need to get into.”

“How much more could there possibly be?” He was being very intense about a mirror kink.

“A lot more. Like when you want to start trying, what kind of doctor do you want to go to, how is living arrangements going to work? Are you moving in or were you going to be adamant about keeping your own apartment? Do you want us to get married first--”

“Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!” you held up your hands. “What in the world are you talking about? What does any of that have to do with this?”

Sylus paused, his brow furrowing. “Sweetie, what do you think I’m talking about?”

“I mean, I thought you were talking about--you know--” you leaned in closer, your voice a whisper so not to be overheard by anyone else “having sex in front of a mirror? Two of me. That kind of thing.”

Sylus snorted, his shoulders shaking slightly as he held in a laugh. “What? What’s so funny? What were you actually talking about?”

“Oh my beloved,” he sighed, taking your hand over the table. “When I said two of you I meant a mini-you.”

“A mini-me? Like a doll? Why would you--” it finally dawned on you what he meant. Your face heated as embarrassment flooded in. “Oh. I see. A mini-me.”

“Finally get there, did you?” he cocked his head at you. “So, what do you think?”

“I mean…” you didn’t know how to respond. “Just to make sure I’m not misinterpreting again. You are talking about…”

“Getting you pregnant and starting a family. Yes.” Sylus nodded.

“Got it.”

“Now that you know what I was asking you don’t seemed at all enthused about it.”

“I mean, I don’t know how to respond to that out of the blue. It came on so suddenly and while I would like to be a mother one day I guess I didn’t expect it to get brought up quite like this. Usually when people decide to have kids it’s something they do after they get married. We’ve only been dating for a little over a year now. Are you sure you want to have a kid with me? God forbid we break up one day we’re still going to have an entire person connecting us.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d ever let us break up.” Sylus said. “I’m afraid you are stuck with me, sweetie.”

“And bold of you to say we’re stuck together when you haven’t put a ring on it.”

“Do you want me to? I will. We can go down to the jewelry store and buy a ring right now. Depending on how big of a ceremony you want we can be married by the end of the day. Then again, if we do get married I’d like to make a spectacle out of it complete with you in a pretty white dress I get to tear off after the reception.”

“Sylus!” you hissed, hiding your face behind your hands. He always talked so brazenly with you about his desires. It flustered you to no end when they were just carnal desires but this sudden need of his to marry and impregnate you was a thousand times worse. You could barely look at him. Everything he said was too open. Too honest. It made you self conscious thinking about how sincere and direct he was being.

“What? Is it embarrassing to love you? Is it embarrassing to let you know exactly what I picture for us? Since meeting you, this has been what I’ve dreamt of one day having. And today, when you mentioned two of something I realized I didn’t want to wait any longer. I want that life with you. Say you want that life with me too.”

“I…I…” everything screamed in you that this was moving too fast. You did love him but marriage? A child? You didn’t even live together and he was proposing things with a much bigger commitment right now!

Sylus could see you fumbling for an answer and sighed, the light in his eyes dimming a bit. “It’s a lot to ask all at once. I see that. Take all the time you need to respond.”

Wow. Okay.

You finished at the cafe and you started making your way back to your apartment with Sylus. The ride back was quiet. You were thinking about a lot. You knew that you definitely loved Sylus and the idea of marrying him and having a family with him one day was something you wanted. His offer didn’t scare you for that reason. You were in this relationship for the long haul. It was the fact that it all just got put out there so quickly.

Usually when girls get proposed to they can sometimes see it coming. Their partner tells them to go get their nails done, they plan a really romantic date out of nowhere, you get to dress up in something super pretty and nice. All of it to make sure the moment is a picturesque as possible. Sylus dropping that he wants to get you pregnant and then basically proposing in the middle of a cafe after you confused his wants for mirror sex was not how you would have ever imagined this happening!

It was a lot to take in. And maybe you should have been more scared by the idea. But the longer you sat with the question you realized you already knew the answer. You wanted to spend your life with Sylus. You wanted to create a life with him, both metaphorically and literally. It was daunting to think about but it didn’t scare you.

You pulled up to your apartment and you invited Sylus up. Once you got inside you kicked off your shoes and pulled Sylus closer, pushing yourself to your toes to loop your arms around his neck and kiss him. He didn’t miss a beat and kissed you back softly.

“Yes.” you said when you pulled back.

“Yes?” he repeated. Eyes searching your face, “Tell me what you are saying yes to, sweetie.” his grip on you got a little tighter.

“I want to marry you.” you smiled brightly, “And I want to start a family with you.”

A small breath of relief left him and he rested his forehead against yours. “You had better mean that.”

“I do.”

“Perfect.” he closed the distance to kiss you. You melted into his embrace as he kissed you over and over. The moment you ran out of breath and pulled back to breathe he was pulling you in again. Your knees were losing their ability to keep you standing and Sylus placed his hands on your ass and hauled you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Care to start trying now?” he asked. You were still standing in the living room but he was waiting to point you towards the bedroom.

“You want to start right now?” you asked, breathless.

“Why not?”

Maybe it was the emotion of the afternoon or maybe you were hormonal but you ended up nodding. “Okay.”

He started turning towards the bedroom. “Say it, sweetie. What do you want?”

Your face heated again. “I want to start a family with you. I want you to put a baby in me, Sylus. And I want to do it now.”

He carried you back to the bedroom and laid you down on the bed. Considering everything you knew about Sylus and past experience in the bedroom you expected something hard and feral. You had just told him to put a baby in you. You thought that he was going to tear your clothes off and bend you into a mating press for the rest of the night. You were surprised when he stepped back and slowly started peeling out of his clothes.

You started to take off your own clothes but Sylus stopped you. “Let me do that, sweetie.” he pulled the shirt off over your head. You watched as he carefully helped strip you out of your clothes, pressing small kisses to each new inch of skin that was revealed.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispered, staring at your naked form. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant. Can’t wait to see you swell up with our kid.” he ran a hand along your stomach. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me today, sweetie. Happiest I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Sylus…” you reached out to cup his face. “I love you. I love you so much.”

He bent closer to kiss you again. “I love you too.”

While maintaining the kiss his hand slid between your legs and started playing with your pussy. He teased your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. He swallowed your moans the moment they left your lips. Instinctually your hips moved up into his touch. He used the heel of his hand to hold your hips down.

“Stay slow, kitten. I want to savor this.” he murmured against your lips.

He pushed a finger into your heat, drawing more sweet moans out of you as he began to help stretch and prepare your body.

Knowing that you were currently having sex with the intention of getting pregnant was surreal. It felt like any other encounter you had but pleasure was not the only goal. You were going to create a life together. A whole new person, one made up of a little of you and a little of him was going to be in the world. And then you just had that new person for the rest of your lives. You’d be parents. You were going to be in charge of raising a kid.

How was raising a kid even going to work with your lives? Sylus was the leader of Onychinus and lived in the N109 zone. He wasn’t going to leave but you also didn’t want your kid to be deprived of Linkon blue skies and a normal life. There was so much more for you to think about that you hadn’t considered.

“I would love to know where your mind has gone when I have a hand between your legs, kitten.” Sylus said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about how we are going to raise this kid once they’re born.” you said.

“We haven’t even attempted to get you pregnant and you’re worrying about that already?” Sylus scoffed. “At least I know you’re not thinking of backing out if you’re thinking about all of that.”

“I can’t help it. I want our kid to have the best life but also a normal one. Do you think they can have that in the N109 zone?” you asked.

“For our child, I’ll make anything possible.” he cupped your cheek. “Now, do you want to start?”

You nodded. “Yes. Please.”

Sylus smiled and kissed you again. He withdrew his hand and lined himself up with your pussy before slowly pushing in. Twin breaths of satisfaction left you as he sunk in. He stayed close to you, his body pressed on top of yours as his hips rolled against yours. It was such an even and steady unhurried pace. You couldn’t believe it took you till now to realize that he wasn’t just having sex with the intention of getting you pregnant, he was making love to you.

He wanted this first act of you two coming together to make a baby to be done with love, not just lust. No matter what interaction past this got you pregnant, this was your first honest attempt and it was done with nothing short of unending love and adoration.

“Can’t wait to get you pregnant,” Sylus panted as he steadily drove into you. “I’m going to lock us away and fuck you every day until I know you’re knocked up. Fuck, I want to put a baby in you. I want to knock you up so damn bad, kitten.” his pace got a little faster as the need for release drew closer.

“Sylus! Please!” your nails scratched into his back. “I want you to. I want you to knock me up. Please!”

“Fuck kitten!” he groaned, biting into your shoulder. “You’re gonna be so damn pretty all big with my kid. Gonna fuck a baby into you and then I’m gonna put another one in you and another. I want to have as many babies with you as I can get!”

Good god above. How many kids did this man expect you to pop out?

“You’re gonna be such a good mom to our kids.” he lathered hot wet kisses along your throat. “And I’m gonna make you my wife. Our whole lives are ahead of us, and we’re gonna spend them together just like this. Happy, in love, and fucking each other senseless.”

“Yes! Please Sylus! I want it! I want it all!” your legs were locked tight around his hips, wanting to keep him as close to you as humanly possible.

“Come for me, sweetie. I want you to come when I get you pregnant.” he pressed a finger to your clit, rubbing it furiously to help get you there.

“Sylus!” you moaned, nails digging into his back as you came. Blinding little white dots danced before your vision as you came. A buzzing warmth vibrated from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. Sylus gave one final thrust into you and stilled as he came inside you, breathing heavily and moaning your name.

You loosened your grip on him and rubbed your hands along his back. “Sylus…” your head was foggy in the aftermath.

“Right here, sweetie.” he pressed a kiss to your temple. “How do you feel?”

You smiled, pulling him down for a proper kiss. “Amazing. I think we actually made a baby today.”

“I hope so.” he touched your stomach. “But, it can never hurt to be thorough.”

“You are insatiable.” you rolled your eyes.

“Only because it is you, beloved.” He pulled out and laid down next to you, one of his hands still resting on your stomach. “I already can’t wait to meet our little one.”

~~~

The next month was filled with nothing but you and Sylus having sex so you could get pregnant. It didn’t really matter that you were sure you had gotten pregnant that first day you started trying, Sylus wanted to make sure your pregnancy was a certainty. He also loved the excuse of locking you up all for himself.

You hadn’t told anyone about your plans yet. No one outside of you and Sylus even knew that you were trying to have a kid. Except maybe Luke and Keiran but that was because Sylus had already set them on the task of baby proofing the mansion. He never said baby proof but suddenly telling the twins to do stuff like sand down table edges to not be sharp and put covers on unused electric outlets was a bit of a tip off.

After a month of constant sex though you decided to go out and buy a pregnancy test. You weren’t feeling any symptoms yet but you were too impatient to find out if it had happened yet or not. You had bought an assortment and took them home. After a long time in the bathroom and what felt like an even longer wait you had the results.

Positive. All of the tests in their own way said the same thing. You were pregnant.

You were pregnant!

Oh god you were pregnant. It was actually happening. It wasn’t just a fun little roleplay in the bedroom. It was real. There was an actual life growing inside of you.

You immediately grabbed your phone to tell Sylus then put it away. This was an in-person announcement. You sped over to the N109 zone as fast as you could and pulled up to the mansion. You knew at this early an hour Sylus would still be asleep but you couldn’t wait.

Luke and Kieran were in the living room moving a bunch of breakable objects to higher shelves. “Hey there, what are you doing here so early? Boss man is still asleep.” they said.

“I know but I have something important to tell him.”

“Oh thank god,” Luke sighed, “Does this mean we can hang out here when you both are here again? We don’t have to keep ourselves busy outside while you’re going at it?”

“I knew you two knew what was going on.”

“It was fairly obvious. Do you think boss man would be having us redecorate like this just for the fun of it?” Kieran said. “Congratulations though.”

“Thanks. But remember, if Sylus asks you two don’t know a damn thing. I told him first, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” they gave little salutes and you skipped down the hall to Sylus’s room.

You opened his door and found him asleep as the twins had said. There was too much excitement in your body. You closed the door behind you and sprinted for the bed, throwing yourself across Sylus’s lap. He woke with a start, automatically grabbing you before realizing that it was you and not any kind of threat. He let out a sigh and rested his head back against the headboard.

“Sweetie, I was sleeping.”

“I know. But I figured you would want to know that I was pregnant as soon as possible.”

His eyes snapped open again, staring at you. “Repeat that for me.”

“I’m pregnant. I took a bunch of tests and they all came up positive.” you took his hand and placed it over your stomach. “We’re having a baby.”

He rolled you under him and kissed you then pulled up your shirt and kissed your stomach. “Sylus!” you laughed, his kiss tickling you slightly.

“It’s actually happening,” he murmured, resting his head on your stomach. “We’re actually going to have a child in a few months.”

“Yep.” you ran your hands through his hair. “I’m a little scared but mostly excited.”

“I cannot wait to meet you, little one.” he spoke to your stomach. “Don’t worry, you have a wonderful mama who’s going to make sure you grow into a healthy baby and daddy is going to be here to make sure she has anything she wants.”

“Anything I want? Really?”

“You’re doing something incredible. Of course I would do anything for you.” he looked up at you. “I just have one favor to ask in return.”

“A bigger favor than grow an entire human?”

“Move in.” he said. “I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Move in with me, please.”

“But what about all my stuff and my apartment? I can’t just break my lease.”

“I’ll take care of your apartment and we have more than enough room for all of your stuff.” Sylus assured you. “What do you say?”

“I mean, it had to happen sometime.” you shrugged with a smile.

And so you moved in with Sylus. He sent the twins to your house to pack up and move your things out. It was strange to just pick up and move but it was also strange to just in an instant decide you were going to become a wife and mother with the leader of Onychinus as your husband and father of your child.

Moving in when you did turned out to be a good move because soon after everything had been moved over the pregnancy symptoms started up in earnest. You were tired, your boobs hurt, you learned morning sickness was something that hit at every hour of the damn day and not just mornings as the name suggested. In a word, it was miserable.

Thankfully Sylus was very attentive to your needs, rubbing your back and making sure you had water to drink after you threw up, making sure you wouldn’t be disturbed whenever you needed a nap, and massaging the aches out of your body. He had told you to go on maternity leave but considering you were only in the first trimester of your pregnancy you didn’t see the need to take off of work just yet. However, you did need to let them know that you were now expecting.

That brought on a lot of questions from your co-workers as to how far along you were and who the father was. At this point everyone kind of knew that you had something going on with Sylus, or they knew him as “Skye” the fruit seller. Some were shocked but others were excited and looked forward to being able to throw you a baby shower.

It was a lot going on. Your body was changing, you moved, everyone at work was looking at you differently now, it felt like a lot to navigate and the stress was tarting to get to you. One day you had called off of work because you were just too damn tired to do anything. Your body ached all over, you woke up crying because you missed hearing birds in the morning, Sylus’s shampoo smell was making you gag, and you had a sudden craving for the most artery clogging cheesy corn dogs you could find.

You were lying in bed, curled in a tight ball quietly sniffling. Sylus had tried to comfort you but you snapped at him and now he was gone. You missed him even if he smelled bad. You wanted him back. You rolled to your other side and stared at the bedroom door. “Sylus?” you called out. “Are you out there?”

The door opened but you were disappointed to see the twins and not Sylus. “Hi, boss man stepped out a while ago to pick something up. He’ll be back soon.”

“He didn’t tell me he was leaving.” you muttered, fresh tears brimming in your eyes. “Why didn’t he tell me? He always tells me when he needs to go.”

“Uh…” the twins looked at each other, not knowing what to do. “Can we get you anything? Boss man told us to get you anything you needed.”

“I want Sylus.” you shimmied under the covers, hiding yourself from view so they couldn’t see you break down.

You could still hear the twins outside talking. “You have to call him.”

“Me? Why do I have to be the one to call him and tell him his baby mama is having an emotional breakdown cause he left?”

“You think I want to do that?”

“Rock paper scissors for it.”

“No. Just call him.”

“You call him!”

“Both of you get the fuck out!” you snapped from under the covers.

“Sorry!” they shut the door and disappeared. You felt a little peck at your head and groaned, rolling away from Mephisto. You had forgotten that damn bird was still here. He landed on your shoulder and pecked you again.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” you tried to swat him away.

“He’s just trying to get your attention, sweetie.” You heard Sylus’s voice. You bolted upright, scaring Mephisto off of you. You looked around but saw no sign of Sylus. That’s when you realized his voice was coming out of Mephisto.

“Mephisto can take calls now?”

“Think of him more like a baby monitor.” Sylus said. “He alerted me that you weren’t doing well and wanted me home. Don’t worry, I’m pulling back up to the house now.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went to pick up some food for my tired and hungry girlfriend.” he said. “Be with you in a second.”

You waited a minute and sure enough Sylus walked in with a large take out bag in his hands. It smelled heavenly. “Miss me?”

You nodded, holding out your arms. He set the food down and collected you in a hug. “Sorry I didn’t mention I was leaving. You didn’t seem keen to see me and I thought I’d be back before you wanted me again.”

“I was fine…” you muttered, embarrassed by how needy you were being.

“It’s fine that you weren’t. I like that you want me around.” he kissed the top of your head. “Do you still want cheesy corn dogs? I bought a lot from that one food truck you love.”

“Oh my god, yes!” you were salivating already.

Sylus handed you the bag full of hot and fresh cheesy corn dogs. You scarfed down three in record time, the cheese and carbs hitting in a way that made you moan as you ate. “Can I eat just these for the rest of my life?”

“Oh, I think you may end up craving something new in a week so we’ll see how long it lasts. But for now you can have whatever it is you want.”

You wiped some of the grease from your mouth. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

“It’s alright.” he bent his head closer. “Is this a better shampoo? I showered again to wash it out.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“You didn’t like the smell of the last one so I got unscented shampoo and used that instead. I also put in an order for some birds that we can keep nearby so you can hear them sing in the mornings like you’re used to.”

“Oh my god, Sylus.” you rolled your eyes. “You didn’t need to buy an entire aviary of birds. You could have just put bird songs as an alarm or something. Buying actual birds to keep in the house is crazy.”

“I like to think they can also keep Mephisto company.” Sylus shrugged. “The house could use some more cheer anyway.”

“My collection of plushies didn’t already do that?”

“This is your home now as well as mine. Whatever you want it to be, we will have it made. Gut the entire house and remake it as your own if you wish. I’ll only ask that I keep the vault as it is now.”

“I’m not gonna gut the entire house.” you leaned against him. “Well, maybe one room. We still need to figure out where we’re going to put the nursery.”

“Ah, I’ve actually already thought of that.” he stood up. “Care to come take a look?”

You took his hand and he led you a little bit down the hall. One of the rooms that you knew had just been a guest room had been cleared out of everything and the walls repainted to a blank white. “I was waiting for you to mention the nursery so you could pick out whatever furniture you wanted to decorate it with. I also didn’t know if you wanted to wait until we knew the gender to go shopping so I’ve been putting it off. But we have this room and it’s not too far from us so we’ll always be close by when they need tending.”

You looked around the blank room, “It’s perfect.”

Soon enough it was time for your first ultrasound. You were excited and a little nervous. This was the first time you were going to actually see your baby. And despite Sylus saying that the doctor’s in the N109 zone were just as good as any Linkon doctor you insisted on going to Linkon for your appointments.

You laid back on the exam bed and rolled up your shirt to expose your stomach. At this point in your pregnancy they said you’d be able to see the baby, hear their heartbeat, but gender would still be a few weeks away. The cold jelly was applied and the technician moved the wand around for a moment before finding the baby.

“And there they are.” the technician turned the screen to you to see. On the screen was a blurry little blob in the shape of a bean. Your baby.

You gripped Sylus’s hand tighter, tears gathering in your eyes. “That’s our baby.” you said breathlessly. “Oh wow, there really is a baby in there.”

“Yes there is.” the technician laughed. “Feels a lot more real now, huh?”

“Yeah.” you let Sylus wipe the tears from your eyes. “Oh wow. I didn’t think I’d get this emotional.”

“It’s perfectly normal, especially for first time moms.” the technician said. “How are we feeling, dad?”

“They’re perfect.” Sylus said.

“About as perfectly healthy as an eight week old bean could be--oh.” the technician paused and moved the wand around some more. “Well then, hello to you too.”

“What? What is it?” you asked.

“Your baby has a roommate in there.” the technician pointed out on the screen. “Baby one, and just over here, baby two.”

“Baby two?” your mouth dropped open. “I’m having twins?”

“Looks like it. Congratulations! Since you are carrying twins there are some more details to go over for multiple fetus pregnancies.”

“Uh huh…” you turned to Sylus. “Twins. We’re having twins.”

Sylus’s smile threatened to split his face in half. “This is amazing.”

“Of course you’re excited, you don’t have to push out two babies at once.” you continued to stare at the screen. “Oh my god.”

After the initial shock wore off the technician found the heartbeat for you and that was when the emotions of the day started to bubble over. You started sobbing hearing those steady little thumps over the monitor. Two strong healthy heartbeats for two tiny little beans. When you looked over at Sylus you saw that he was crying too. You hadn’t expected him to get so emotional over this as well but it was comforting in a way. He was just as excited for this as you, probably more excited honestly.

You got your due date from the doctor and your follow up appointment made and a copy of the ultrasound picture before leaving. In about seven more months you were going to have not one but two babies. Sylus was over the moon. The second you returned home he had put the pictures in a scrapbook he had bought to catalog your pregnancy and happily announced to the twins that they were not going to be the only twins in your life anymore. Luke and Keiran were ecstatic hearing the news that you were having twins and gave you huge hugs.

Time kept moving ever forward and you were growing larger and larger as the babies grew with you. You were officially into the second trimester and you looked it. Carrying twins made what would have already been a big pregnancy belly even bigger. It was also at this time that you learned what exactly you were carrying. You had debated keeping the gender of the babies a surprise but knew you were too impatient for that.

Girls. You were carrying twin baby girls.

“Guess you really are getting a mini-me, huh?” you said when the doctor announced the gender to you.

“Not just a mini-you. A pair of mini-yous.” Sylus said, his smile brighter than the sun as he stared at the screen. “What was it you had said a couple months ago at the arcade? ‘Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable.’ I believe it was.”

“Yeah, I think that was it.” you sighed. “I didn’t think when I said that it would lead to us actually having two little cuties though.”

“Winning that plushie was the best thing that could have happened that day. It led to all this.” he kissed you soundly. “

Sylus had already been a little over protective of you when you were just carrying one baby but now that he knew you were growing twins he was getting to be a little overbearing. He wanted you to rest as much as you could and to just focus on growing the twins but you were getting bored just sitting around all day.

Eventually you were able to convince Sylus to let you go out shopping for furniture for the nursery. He was more than happy to take you to the most expensive baby store in the city and told you to ignore price on everything and just get whatever you wanted. You rolled your eyes but didn’t try to fight him on it. You wanted the best for your babies after all. You certainly weren’t going to say no to a very nice but stupidly expensive recliner to put in the nursery either. You had a feeling you were going to be in it a lot and you wanted it to be as comfy as possible.

It was as you were looking at cradles, debating whether to get connecting ones for the twins or not that you felt something in your stomach. It was strange and you weren’t sure what you felt until it happened again. It was little and fluttery and you realized with a start that the babies were moving! You could feel them moving!

You paused, a hand over your swollen stomach as you let yourself focus on the fluttering inside.

Sylus noticed you stop and immediately concern etched into his face. “Something wrong? Are you feeling sick? Do we need to go home?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” you assured him with an easy smile. “I just felt the babies move for the first time and it caught me off guard.”

“They’re moving?” Sylus gasped, touching a hand to your stomach.

“I don’t know if you can feel them from the outside yet.” you told him. “But they are definitely kicking around a lot in there from what I can feel. It feels really fluttery, like I have actual butterflies in my tummy.”

“Our little butterflies growing in their cocoon.” he said, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Make sure you grow even stronger girls, daddy wants to be able to feel you kick too.”

“Not too strong, I don’t want them bruising my insides or each other.”

“A little sibling rivalry is good but yes, keep in mind not to hurt your mother when you move around my little butterflies.” he said.

You smiled, your eye catching a spinning mobile. The charms on the mobile were colorful butterflies that spun around while a soft lullaby played. “I think I have an idea on what kind of theme to make the nursery now.”

By the end of the week Sylus had the nursery walls painted to resemble a beautiful flowering garden. The furniture you had picked out was being assembled by the twins and arranged around the room per your instructions. You had even gotten the ceiling painted to resemble a brilliant blue sky with fluffy white clouds in various fun shapes. It didn’t matter if the N109 zone wasn’t like Linkon, your kids could have a beautiful blue sky and garden from the comfort of their room.

It was all coming together so perfectly. With each passing day the house was looking more like a home safe for babies to crawl around in and you were one day closer to being parents.

You were lying in beed one evening as you entered your third trimester. Sylus was next to you talking to the twins since they decided to stay awake all evening and not let you get any sleep. Seems they were taking after their father’s nocturnal habits.

“And remember girls, your mother is going to say that I can’t sing but you need to know that she is wrong. I am a perfectly capable singer and she’s just jealous, that’s why she doesn’t take me out to karaoke anymore.”

“Don’t listen to him girls, he is actually tone deaf.”

“Stop contradicting me in front of the children.”

“Stop lying to them then.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are tone deaf though. It’s actually kind of amazing.”

Sylus frowned, whisper conspiratorially with your stomach. “I’m going to let her think she’s won but in truth you two know the truth. Daddy can sing.”

You gave Sylus a nudge with your foot. “Be glad it takes too much energy to sit up so I can’t properly chastise you.”

“If it keeps you here in bed where I know I can keep an eye on you and the kids then I will plenty glad of it.” Sylus scooted back up the bed next to you. “Getting close now, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like I’m about ready to pop. I think if I plug my nose and you blow into my mouth the girls will just pop out of me. Can we test it?”

“I think it’s best to let them pass organically but I can accommodate part of your request.” he leaned forward and kissed you.

“Sylus, can I ask you something?”

“Anything?”

“If my body doesn’t snap back to what it was like from before the twins, will you still think I’m beautiful?”

His brow furrowed. “How dare you think I would think you were less beautiful for anything. I don’t care what your body looks like, kitten. Right now you are the most beautiful I have ever seen you. Your body is swollen with our children. You practically glow from the inside out. And after you have the kids you will still be the most gorgeous woman in all of creation. Never doubt that. In fact,” he whistled to Mephisto and the mechanical bird flew off to grab something out of a drawer and came back to deposit it in Sylus’s hand. “I think now is the perfect time to give you this.”

He held out a small velvet box to you. You opened it to find the most beautiful ring you had ever seen inside. “Is this…?”

“I meant what I said, beloved. You are the most beautiful and amazing woman that has ever been. You fill every day of my life with joy and light and music. From the moment I met you I knew that I wanted you to not only be my wife but the mother of my children. Now that our kids are nearly born I think it is about time I make this official as well.” he took the ring out, “Will you marry me and be my wife?”

“Yes. Of course I will!” you nodded, tears in your eyes.

He slipped the ring on your finger and kissed you again. “You make me the happiest I have ever been every single day.” he murmured against your lips. “After the girls are born we can start wedding planning?”

“You don’t want to get married before they come?” you asked.

“We can, but I’d like it if we could have them in the wedding pictures. Not that I wouldn’t love to see you as a pregnant bride but I think having them dressed as little flower girls would be far cuter. What do you think?”

“I think I like that idea.” you looked down at your stomach. “Hear that girls? After you’re born you get to be flower girls in mommy and daddy’s wedding.”

The girls had finally stopped kicking around for the night so you didn’t get any kind of answer back. But at least you could go to bed now. You looked at the ring on your finger and looked back at Sylus. “I love you, my fiance.”

“Fiance,” he tested the word on his tongue, “I like the sound of that. And in a couple months after the girls are born and we’ve had time to settle into parent life I’ll be able to call you wife.”

“Fiance. Wife. Mother. I’m collecting a lot of new names.”

“That reminds me,” Sylus said, “We still haven’t talked about what we are going to name the twins.”

“Oh fucking hell…”

~~~

Sylus was away. He had a business deal that he needed to go see and no matter how much he tried to get them to do it remotely the seller refused adamantly that it could only be done in person. This was a problem for Sylus in many ways, the first and biggest being that you were now three days past your due date and he was very anxious about being apart from you.

He was about to cancel the whole thing but you had assured him that if the twins hadn’t popped out already the chances they were going to come during the twenty four hours he wasn’t home wasn’t going to happen. So with much nagging from your part, and a little honesty about needing some time alone to relax without his hovering, he left.

That was the first mistake. The second mistake was deciding to take a trip over to Linkon without anyone there to assist you. You were in the supermarket looking at snacks when you felt a powerful and painful cramp that made you drop the bag of chips you were holding.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no no no!” Was that a contraction? Please no! You couldn’t go into labor while Sylus was gone!

Maybe it was just Braxton Hicks contractions. There was no way the babies were coming right after you assured Sylus that there was no way it was going to happen while he was gone. No way!

You tried to bend over and pick up the chips but your belly wouldn’t let you so you just kinda left them there on the ground and grabbed a fresh bag from the shelf. You were standing in the checkout line when another contraction hit, just as intense as the last. Shit!

“Ma’am, are you alright?” the friendly cashier asked.

“Oh, I’m fine. I think.” you breathed through the pain. “But I may be having contractions.”

“Oh dear, do you need us to call an ambulance?”

“No. No, I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you though.” you grabbed your groceries and took them out to the car.

You sat down inside the car and cursed. These were not Braxton Hicks. They were too powerful to be fake. You were actually going into labor. You were going to give birth today. And Sylus wasn’t fucking here!

“Oh he is going to kill me.” you started the car. You were only a short distance from the hospital so it didn’t make sense to call for an ambulance or anything like that.

As you were driving over you got another contraction. The time between them felt like they got a lot shorter. You cursed and hit the call button on the car. “Call Sylus.” you said.

There was a single ring before Sylus picked up. “Hello sweetie, what are--”

“The babies are coming.” you cut him off.

“Are you serious?” his light tone immediately sobered up.

“Yes. I started having contractions and I’m on my way to the hospital now.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now I’ll be there as soon as possible.” you heard someone in the background say something followed by a single gun shot. “Tell Luke and Kieran to get you there safely and--”

“Actually I’m driving myself. I left Luke and Keiran back at the mansion.” you winced.

“You--” he sighed. “Right. Fine. Be careful. I’ll be there soon. Try not to give birth until I get there.”

“I’ll do my best. Sorry for making you leave. If I hadn’t insisted--”

“You thought you had more time before the babies were coming. It’s alright, kitten. I’ll see you soon, I love you.”

“Love you too.” you hung up as you pulled into the hospital.

You were immediately taken back to a room and changed into a hospital gown. Thankfully the doctor said that you were still a ways off from being ready to deliver so Sylus had time to get over but it didn’t make the experience any less frustrating. You were in pain, you were alone, and you were also really hungry but the doctor said you couldn’t have anything other than like ice chips since you were birthing twins.

You were laid up in bed, your water had broken an hour ago and your body was getting steadily closer to being ready to deliver. The doctor had just checked how far you were dilated and you were still not at the ten centimeters you needed to be but you were getting close.

“Girls, you gotta listen to mommy.” you told your stomach, “You have to wait until your dad gets here to come out, alright? Please just hold on until your dad gets here. Please. He’ll be heartbroken if he misses this.”

Just as you were saying that the door to your room burst open and Sylus scanned the room before his eyes landed on you. “It hasn’t happened yet, has it? I didn’t miss it.” he asked.

“No. You’re just in time.” relieved tears started streaming down your face. Sylus came up and kissed you.

“Sorry for taking so long, I got here as fast as I could. Are you alright?”

“Outside of the fact that my body is preparing to push two babies out of my vagina, I’m doing pretty good now that you’re here.” you pressed your sweaty face to his arm. “Can you clean up first though? You’re kinda covered in blood.”

“Shit.” he cursed and went to the bathroom to wash the spatter of blood off of him.

The labor was long and painful but with Sylus by your side it made the pain bearable. You were glad he was so strong considering anyone lesser may have had their hand broken by how hard you were squeezing. It was the greatest joy and relief when the screams of babies filled the air in the delivery room.

“And there they are, two perfectly healthy baby girls.” the doctor and nurses wiped them off and Sylus cut the umbilical cords. Once the babies were clean they handed them off to you. Their cries quieted down in your arms.

“Hi babies,” you sniffed, trying to catch your breath. “You are the most precious things in all of creation.”

“They are absolutely perfect.” Sylus stroked one of their downy heads. Tears were falling from his eyes. You rarely ever saw Sylus cry but the birth of your daughters was a more than worthwhile excuse to let go. You yourself had been crying since you started pushing.

“The new little loves of my life,” Sylus said, bending closer to kiss the babies and you on top of your heads. “You will want for nothing.”

“Don’t go spoiling them rotten already, they literally just came out of me.”

“I can’t help it. They are my little princesses, they deserve to be treated as such.” he turned to you, “And you did such a good job, sweetie. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted, but happy.” you nuzzled your face against one of the twin’s heads. “We’re parents now.”

“That we are. Now we can plan the wedding and get started on having even more kids.”

“For goodness sake, the babies aren’t even an hour old yet and you’re already talking about pumping me full of more? Give me some time to breathe at least.”

“Right. I know.” he sighed, taking one of the twins into his arms. “This has been the best day of my life and all I want is for it to keep going on forever.”

“But now the best part comes, taking them home.”

~~~

The first couple of weeks were the most chaotic with the new babies in the house. The day you brought them home you introduced them to Luke and Kieran who started bawling over them. It was actually really sweet. Sylus had even introduced Mephisto to the babies.

“These two are your number one priority from now on, Mephisto.” he had told the bird. “Watch them like a hawk.”

Mephisto squawked indignantly at being compared to another bird but followed diligently when you took the twins back to the nursery.

One evening you woke up in the middle of the night. Ever since the twins had been born your sleep schedule had been messed up and getting through the entire night in one go was hard. You sat up and noticed that Sylus wasn’t in bed. That wasn’t so strange since he did a lot of business at night but he had said he was refraining from deals and auctions until the babies were a bit older.

So where was he?

You got up and shuffled down the hall. Sure enough, he was in the nursery laid back in the recliner, both the babies fast asleep on his chest.

You waved at him and he gave a small nod of his head to show he saw you. You crept closer, careful not to make any noise. “Were they fussing?” you whispered as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake the girls.

“A little.” he whispered back. “But I sang them a lullaby and they went right back to sleep.”

The fact that Sylus’s tone deaf lullabies actually worked to soothe the girls back to sleep was baffling and infuriating. “You need some help getting them back in the crib?”

“No. They’re fine just like this. I’ll move them back to the crib when I’m sure they’re not going to wake up again.” he said.

“Meaning you just want to stay cuddling with them.”

“Also yes.”

“Well, I’m going to go abc to bed. Don’t stay in here all night, okay?”

“I won’t.” he said but you knew it was a lie. He’d move in here just to be that much closer to them every hour of the day.

~~~

As time passed and the twins grew life evened out. There were many late nights soothing their cries and days spent changing dirty diapers and teaching them how to sit up and crawl. Sylus spent as much time with them as he possibly could. It almost made you jealous seeing how absolutely obsessed he was with your daughters. But seeing him taking care of and playing with them only made your heart swell with affection. He was such a good dad.

Right now Sylus wasn’t around though. Right now, the girls sat with you in your bridal suite, dressed in their little flower girl dresses while you got dressed in your wedding gown.

“So, girls, how do I look?” you turned to the twins who burbled and tugged on their little tulle skirts. “Lyra, Opal, please. Can you look at mommy?” Typical of six month old babies, they continued to ignore you.

“Alright, time for first look with daddy. You girls ready?” you asked the twins. They kinda just looked around, not really understanding anything you were saying but they weren’t fussing or crying so you took it as a win. “Great! Let’s go show him how pretty we all look.”

You placed the twins in the little wagon that had been decorated to match the wedding decor and pulled them behind you out of the suite.

The photographer was going to do your first look first and then bring in the girls. You saw Sylus at the end of the hallway, haloed by afternoon light and wearing a crisp handsome suit. His hands were behind his back, fidgeting slightly as he waited. You could see him tense up when he heard you approaching.

You deliberately slowed your steps just to tease him a little more before tapping his shoulder. He turned around, tears already misting his eyes as he took you in. “You look…breathtaking. I actually get to marry this angelic woman?”

“You look very handsome as well. The suit is crisp.” you smoothed out his tie.

“Can I kiss you or would that ruin your makeup?”

“If it smudges I’ll fix it.” you wrapped your arms around him as he kissed you passionately. You pulled back with wide matching smiles. “You want to see the girls?”

“Yes. Where are our little princesses?” his eyes lighted even more.

You turned around and motioned for the staff to wheel your babies over. “Oh there are the rest of my girls.” Sylus said, stooping down and hoisting either child on his hips. “You look so pretty in your little dresses. My precious little flowers.”

“Look at the little booties they have on. Isn’t that the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” you wiggled one of their feet to their tiny sparkly shoes.

“They look every bit as beautiful and perfect as their mother.” he kissed both their heads. “To think, that after today I not only get to wake up to these two every morning but next to my wife as well.”

You stood there, watching your soon to be husband coo and fawn over your daughters as they giggled and tugged on their father’s expensive new suit. This was everything you had ever dreamt of having. It wasn’t a dream though. It was real. This beautiful life you were living was all yours. You glanced down in the wagon and saw a pair of hearts plushie that you had won at a claw machine over a year ago nestled inside. It had been wore down by the twins in recent months but seeing it, even with its stains and slightly misshapen stuffing filled you with joy.

You looked back at Sylus and the girls. Even all this time later you could remember what brought on this beautiful life. Two little cuties together are definitely twice as adorable. And you knew it was true.

“Ready to go get married?” you asked Sylus, taking one of the girls from him.

He smiled, taking your free hand. “As ready as I have ever been.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #lads mc #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #this is my most self indulgent fic ever!#I literally had to force myself to write an ending and not just let it continue on forever

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snowysosturn · 3 days ago

Text

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

The morning sun spilled through the sheer curtains, my head was still heavy from last night, and my body feeling sheer exhaustion of what had happened. I had barely slept, replaying the scene at the restaurant over and over in my mind. The embarrassment, the sting of Matt’s words, the way I had to walk away while holding back tears.

A soft knock at my door made me wake that bit more. "Hey, you awake?" I hear Nick’s voice from through the door.

I remembered I locked it once Matt left last night so I pulled myself from my bed and unlocked the door letting Nick to come in. I turned and walked back to my bed, sitting up against the headboard, pulling the covers around me. Nick closed the door behind him before standing at the end of the bed. "Alright, spill. What the hell happened last night? You left, and then Matt stormed in looking like he just saw a ghost."

I exhaled, rubbing my temples before looking at him. "Your mom asked Nate if he was seeing anyone, and he said no, which was fine, right? But Matt decided to make it seem like that was some kind of rejection for me, like I was meant to be upset about it. Then, out of nowhere, he brings up to your mom and dad that Nate and I went on a ‘date’, which you know yourself wasn’t even a date, so then Nate tried to clarify that we were just friends, but Matt just kept pushing it. Then he said that I was a quick fuck and then friend zoned. Right in front of your parents." I swallowed, feeling the embarrassment all over again.

Nick’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression darkened. "What the fuck?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Yeah and I’m so embarrassed if your parents heard that last part because first of all, I had just met them, and second of all, it’s just not even true. It made me look bad, it made Nate uncomfortable, and Matt acted like he had some right to embarrass me like that."

Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No I get why you’re upset like he was way out of line. But listen, when Chris and I came back in, our parents said you were lovely and that they hoped you felt better soon. I’m telling you they didn’t hear that part."

I let out a slow breath of relief. "Really?"

"Really" Nick nodded. "They just thought you weren’t feeling well and needed to leave early."

I sank back into my pillows, finally feeling like I could breathe a little easier. "Good. Because I swear, I was ready to dig a hole and disappear forever."

Nick laughed. "Nah, no disappearing allowed. But are you gonna talk to Matt about it?"

I frowned, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "We did last night kinda, but I’m still so angry. And the worst part is, I don’t even know why he acted like that. It was like he wanted to embarrass me."

Nick shrugged. "Matt’s an idiot. He says dumb shit, but he also knows when he’s messed up. I guarantee you, he feels like shit about it right now."

"Good" I muttered, still unwilling to entertain the idea of forgiving him just yet.

Nick sighed again but didn’t push it further. "Alright, well, the four of us are going out with my parents for the day. You coming?"

I shook my head. "I think I’m just gonna stay back here today, I just want things to die down."

"Thats cool." He stood up, stretching. "Try not to overthink it too much, alright?"

I gave a half smile. "Easier said than done."

As Nick left the room, I rolled onto my side, staring out the window at the pool below. I knew I wouldn’t be able to just brush this off, but at least, for now, I could breathe a little easier knowing that Nick’s parents didn’t hear Matt’s words. Still, the anger remained, simmering just beneath the surface. Eventually, I decided I needed some air, some sun, some quiet, and a break from all the tension.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed my swimsuit, opting for a tiny bikini that I knew would be perfect for lounging by the pool. The straps sat snug against my skin, the warm morning air already filtering through the open balcony doors as I pulled my hair up out of my face. After tossing on a loose cover up, I slid into my sliders and grabbed a towel before heading downstairs.

As I reached the foyer, the others were gathered, chatting and getting ready to head out for the day. The energy in the room was light, filled with laughter and the occasional clatter of sunglasses being thrown into bags. As soon as they spotted me, they greeted me, well everyone except Matt, who didn’t even glance in my direction.

Chris was the first to speak. “You coming with us?” His tone was casual, but his eyes scanned my face like he was checking in.

I shook my head, adjusting my towel over my arm. “Nah, I think I’m going to take it easy today. Just chill by the pool and relax.”

Nate nodded approvingly. “Honestly? Probably the smarter move.”

Chris shot me a small smile. “Enjoy the sun. We’ll be back later.”

I returned the smile, forcing the tension from last night out of my mind. “You guys have fun.”

With that, they all filed out the front door, their voices fading as they disappeared down the steps. The villa was suddenly silent, the only sound being the faint rustling of palm trees outside.

I exhaled slowly before grabbing an ice tea from the fridge and making my way out to the pool, letting the warm sun wrap around me as I laid my towel down on one of the lounge chairs. Finally, peace and quiet.

I stretched out on the lounge chair, letting the sun soak into my skin as I sipped on the cold drink. I had left the villa door open, wanting to hear when everyone got back, but after a while, another sound caught my attention.

A knock.

Frowning, I sat up, adjusting my bikini top before grabbing my cover up and slipping it over my hips. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and the guys wouldn’t have knocked, they had keys.

As I rushed barefoot across the cold tile floor, I hesitated for a second before pulling the door open.

A mailman stood there, holding a large box. He barely glanced up before handing it over. “Delivery for Fresh Love.”

I furrowed my brows but took the package, feeling the weight of it in my arms. “Oh, thanks.”

With a nod, he turned and walked back down the driveway. I shut the door with my foot and carried the box to the kitchen counter, setting it down with a small thud. I smirked, realizing this must be the personalized samples Chris had mentioned, the ones he ordered for all of us. I pulled out my phone and snapped a quick picture of the box before opening up my messages with Chris.

Me: Personalised samples just got delivered.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.

Chris: Sick! You check ‘em out yet?

I glanced at the box, debating if I should wait for him or just open it now.

Me: Not yet. Was gonna let you do the honours.

Chris: Okay cool. We can do a shoot with them at sunset later.

I bring the box up to Chris’ room and set it on the bed so he can see everything when we get back in. If we’re doing a shoot I want to look extra radiant and glowy, and that won’t happen from standing inside the villa. I grabbed one of the body oils in my room before making my way back out to the pool. I poured a little into my palm, rubbing it over my legs as I stretched back out on the lounge chair.

Matt’s POV

We were halfway through the guided tour when Chris suddenly checked his phone and said, “Oh, the personalized samples came in. Y/n just texted me.”

Hearing her name wasn’t helpful. Not when I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind since last night, and god how she looked in that bikini earlier didn't help. I kept my eyes straight ahead, pretending I didn’t care, but my mom didn’t let it slide. “Oh, Y/n is such a lovely girl” she said with a warm smile, then turned to me. “Is she feeling better now, sweetheart?”

Before I could even begin to answer, Nick cut in smoothly. “Yeah, she’s fine. Just needed a bit of sleep.” His tone was light, brushing off the question like it wasn’t worth pressing. He knew me well enough to know that I didn’t want to talk about it, especially not here, not in front of everyone.

I kept my mouth shut and just nodded in agreement, though the truth was, I felt far from fine. Guilt sat heavy in my chest, chipping away at me. Last night, I had let my emotions get the best of me. I let jealousy, because let’s be honest, that’s exactly what it was, take control, and I lashed out in the worst way possible. I had said something cruel, something I couldn’t take back. And knowing Y/n, she wasn’t the type to just let it roll off her shoulders. She put up walls, and I had given her every reason to keep me on the other side of them.

The more I thought about it, the worse it got. I had no right to be mad at her, no right to act like what she did or didn’t do with Nate, or anyone else for that matter, was any of my business. But that hadn’t stopped me from taking a low blow, from making her feel small in front of people who barely even knew her. If she had done that to me, I’d be furious. So what did that say about me?

I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair as I barely registered the tour guide’s voice. My mind was somewhere else entirely.

I had to make this right.

I knew I had a way to make it up to her, it was something I should've done ages ago. And now, I could only hope it wasn’t too late for her to forgive me.

Y/n’s POV

I was sitting outside on the patio, a plate of food in my lap as I watched the sun dip below the horizon. The sky was painted in soft shades of pink and orange, the kind of sunset that made everything feel a little quieter, a little more peaceful. It was one of those moments I wished I could freeze in time, just me, the sunset, and the distant sound of waves hitting onto the shore.

But then, the front door swung open, breaking the stillness.

The familiar sounds of shuffling feet and tired voices filled the villa as the guys returned. I set my plate aside and stood up, making my way inside to greet them.

“Hey” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter as they walked in.

They all looked exhausted, Chris, Nate, Matt, and Nick, their faces slightly sunburnt, their hair tousled from the slight breeze and even though they didn’t say much at first, their body language said it all.

Chris let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he took his cap off. “Long day,” he muttered. “We were out in the sun for way too long, and I think it’s catching up to everyone.”

Nate groaned in agreement, tossing his sunglasses onto the counter. “I need, like, ten hours of sleep.”

Matt didn’t say much, just nodded, his jaw tight. He looked at me for half a second before glancing away, like he was trying to avoid something, most likely me. I ignored the sting in my chest and forced a small smile.

“Yeah, we’re all wiped” Nick added, stretching his arms above his head. “Think we’ll just stay in tonight, order some takeout, crash early.”

“That’s fine with me” I said, realizing I was more drained than I thought. Between being in the sun all day and everything that happened last night, I could use a quiet night too. “I left that box in your room” I say turning to Chris.

“Cool I’ll have a look now, we can take pictures tomorrow evening instead, when everyones a bit more awake”

And with that, Chris, Nate, and Matt didn’t waste any time disappearing into their rooms, clearly eager to knock out for a bit.

Nick lingered behind, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m gonna shower first, but after that, I’ll come to your room? We can just chill for a bit, a movie maybe?.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

I walk up to my room, kicking the door shut behind me as I switch on the TV. The smart TV mounted on the wall was a lifesaver, especially on nights like this when there wasn’t much going on. I sink onto the bed, remote in hand, sifting through Netflix, too see if theres anything both Nick and I would like. The knock on the door wasn’t enough to pull my attention from the screen since I assume it’s Nick, I don’t even think twice before calling out, “Come in.”

But it’s not Nick.

It’s Matt.

He stands there in the doorway, looking uncertain, a silver metallic gift bag dangling from his fingers. Looking like the same one I spotted in his room next to my ‘Thank You’ card. For a moment, neither of us speak. We just stare at each other, the weight of unspoken words thick in the space between us.

My tone is blunt when I finally ask, “Are you alright?”

Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, he lifts the bag slightly, as if offering it to me. His expression is unreadable, something between nervousness and determination.

“What is it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.

“Just look in it” he says quietly.

I hesitate for a second before reaching out, taking the metallic bag from his grasp. Peeling back the layers of tissue paper inside, my breath catches in my throat.

It’s my locket.

The delicate chain pools in my palm, the pendant glinting from the sunset shining in my balcony window. My fingers tighten around it as I snap my gaze back up to Matt, my heart pounding.

“Where did you get this?” I demand, my voice barely above a whisper.

a/n : most of this is a bit of a filler soz

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

#snowy speaks #fire & desire #snowys sturniolo series #snowys series #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #enemies to lovers #matt sturniolo fanfic

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dandylovesturtles · 2 days ago

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oh yeah so Yes pretty overwhelmingly won the poll so you guys only have yourselves to blame for seeing this nonsense I will probably not do much more with lol

anyway I've been mentally calling it the Draxum's Kids AU or Step-brothers AU because I didn't come up with anything creative

high level premise is that, due to ~mystic shenanigans~, Draxum from the OU (post-movie) gets pulled through a portal to another dimension, about a year behind the OU dimension, where he kept the turtles and accomplished a lot of his human eradication goals but was also a terrible father. Draxum sees the writing on the wall that his AU self's foolish actions have led to an impending apocalypse and finds the AU's Mikey (who is only called Boxshell) to help him get back to the original dimension. But as soon as he meets back up with Boxshell his Dad Instincts kick in and he realizes he can't just leave "his" kids here to die, so he decides to kidnap all four of them back to the original dimension.

this is complicated a bit by all of them hating each other

under the cut is about 3000 words of Draxum getting abducted

Draxum would really appreciate it if they could make it six months without a potentially world ending threat.

This one seems particularly suspicious. Giant black swirling vortexes giving off massive mystic energy signatures don’t simply appear, not for no reason. The fact that Michelangelo had been the first to notice it, cocking his head to the side like a bloodhound hearing a rabbit, was not putting him at ease, either.

“Soooo,” says Leonardo, swords already drawn and held loose at his sides, “what is it, Draxy?”

That is not his name, but because the situation is serious, he answers anyway. “You expect me to know? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Come on, you’re our mystic guru! So get with the guruing!”

Draxum just gives him the look that the kids are coming to call his “not mad, just disappointed” face. He doesn’t have any more answers than he did two seconds ago. On the plus side, it doesn’t seem like anything is coming out of the dark swirly vortex, nor is anything getting sucked in. It’s just hanging there, in the sky over the Hidden City, menacingly.

“Doesn’t it feel familiar?” asks Michelangelo. Unlike Leonardo, he still hasn’t drawn any weapon. He’s just watching it, curious.

“I don’t remember the Krang portal looking like that,” says Donatello. “We could see the Prison Dimension on the other side. That’s just… an indistinct vortex of doom.”

“Not like the Krang,” says Michelangelo, but he doesn’t offer any further guesses. He just watches it with big eyes.

“But we gotta do somethin’ about it, right?” asks Raphael. “We can’t just leave it up there.”

“Well, if it’s not hurting anyone,” says Leonardo slowly.

“Just because it is not doing anything in this instant does not mean it will stay that way,” says Draxum.

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonardo slices through the air, a blue and less chaotic looking portal opening up. “Let’s check it out, Dee. Get some energy readings and all that nerd jazz. The rest of you, stay here in case it’s dangerous.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if it’s me,” says Donatello, but he steps up to the portal anyway.

Draxum feels uneasy, because he doesn’t know what that thing is or what it will do, and because he doesn’t want the two of them going alone. “I’ll come with you,” he says, and when the kids give him a look, he quickly adds, “I may notice something that Donatello would miss.”

“I don’t miss things,” Donatello snaps back, but that’s factually untrue, so Draxum just grunts in response to it.

“Sure, goatman cometh,” says Leonardo airily. “Let’s just go!”

Just to be sure nothing bad will happen, Draxum steps through first. The twins follow him.

They’re on a rooftop now, just under the vortex. Draxum had been expecting… something, but there are no threats, no signs of anything amiss. It’s a bit windy, and the vortex is making an ominous buzzing noise, but that’s all.

“Can you tell anything from here?” asks Leonardo, looking between the two of them. Donatello has his goggles down and a holoscreen up, incomprehensible numbers scrolling by at a fast pace. For his part, it seems the same to Draxum here as it did across town.

Donatello’s readings slow, and he raises the goggles again.

“It’s… definitely massive, but I can’t tell much more than that. Though… I think Mikey was right. That it feels familiar.” He looks at his brother, something complicated in his expression. “Like we’ve seen something like this before.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” says Leonardo, before turning his attention to Draxum. “How easy is it to make an interdimensional portal, anyway?”

Draxum snorts at this question. “For a pocket dimension, relatively simple. For an actual, separate world… Theoretically, it could be done, but it would take a massive amount of mystic energy and decades of experience. Especially if one does not have a mystical object to channel a portal through, like the key that was used for the Krang’s prison dimension.”

“But Mikey was able to do it,” Leonardo points out.

“Yes. And need I remind you it almost killed him.”

“You needn’t,” he snaps back. “I’m just saying… if it can be done, it really seems like someone’s trying it right now.” He still has his swords out, watching the vortex warily. “And what’re the odds that they’re coming here for a friendly visit?”

Draxum doesn’t argue there; he’s already treating whatever this is as hostile. Better to assume wrong and apologize later than to let down his guard and let one of his kids get hurt.

There’s the sound of footsteps behind them, and the three of them turn at once, startled. “Well, there’s Mikey,” Leonardo is already saying in a resigned sort of way, like he knew Michelangelo would join them before he gave the command.

“Sorry, Leo,” says Raphael, landing with heavier tread on the rooftop just behind Michelangelo. “He gave me the slip.”

“Guys, it’s fine!” Michelangelo argues, in that tone he uses when he feels like he’s being babied. “I’m telling you, whatever’s making that portal isn’t here to hurt us.”

“And you know this based on what evidence?” asks Donatello.

“It’s a feeling!”

“Ah yes, feelings, how quantifiable.”

“Well you don’t have any evidence it’s evil either, Donald!” Michelangelo retorts.

Draxum is about to step into the middle of this quarrel when Leonardo stops it for him.

“Guess we’re about to find out who’s right,” he says, eyes locked on something above them, and Draxum looks up just in time to see that there’s movement coming from the vortex now. “Dee, take Raph; Miguel, you’re with me.”

“Wait, guys, we should just-” Michelangelo tries again, but a shimmering blue portal under his feet stops him. Leonardo and Michelangelo reappear in the sky above, Leonardo using his portals to stay airborne while Michelangelo catches himself with his mystic powers. There’s the roar of a jet, and then Donnie is after them, his shimmering mystic tech carrying himself with Raphael dangling underneath.

And of course they’ve left him on the roof. Draxum sighs. Children.

He pops several vines on the roof and uses them to propel himself skyward, eyes searching for what has come through the portal, if that’s what it is. It’s difficult to see against the black coloration, but the boys seem to have gathered under a figure in a dark cloak, who emerges slowly from the middle of the vortex. It seems to cling to them like dark, black ink, the mystic energy drawing out behind them in long, gooey ropes.

Draxum knows he is still many meters away, but even still, he doesn’t think the figure is very large. It’s a surprise, given that the vortex itself is at least fifteen or more meters across, but the figure coming out is short and slight, not even as big as Michelangelo. Of course, that doesn’t mean much; plenty of yokai are small statured naturally, as are some humans. Even Lou Jitsu is small, now, but still mighty. He can’t let the size of the person put him off guard, especially when they have summoned such massive mystic energy.

“Hey!” cries out Michelangelo. “Can we talk to you!?”

The figure in the cloak seems to startle at being addressed. For a moment, they hang in the air, the ropey energy of the vortex growing thicker on their arms and legs. Almost like it’s trying to pull them back.

The figure seems to realize this, too, because they jerk forward and raise their arms in a panicked arc.

Fire comes out - dark flames with incandescent blue cores that Draxum knows are hotter than any normal flame. If the boys are struck, the damage will be severe. Thankfully, Michelangelo yelps and whirls aside before he can be burned.

“I don’t think they’re interested in talking!” calls Donatello.

“That’s alright,” yells Raphael, his ninpo lighting his body red, “because I’m interested in smashing!”

The midair fight begins in earnest now, the boys darting around the figure with their weapons drawn, even Michelangelo. The cloaked figure fights back with the flames, dark and so hot that as Draxum’s vines carry him closer, he can feel the heat coming off of them. Yet, despite the intensity of the attacks, Draxum notices that they are unwieldy and unpracticed, like the wielder has no real experience in fighting, and certainly not midair against so many opponents. Add to that, the strange, inklike properties of the still-spinning vortex seem to be actively trying to pull the figure back; each time they make progress, the moment their attention is drawn by one of the boys, they’re yanked back another few feet.

Draxum sprouts a few more vines off his main one, so that he can move more freely. Aerial combat has never been his forte, but he can make it work. So long as none of those desperate fire attacks burn through his vines and send him tumbling to the ground (he can only hope, in that event, that one of the twins notices him).

The cloaked figure is still attacking wildly, and the boys have to move fast to keep out of the way. It’s easier for Michelangelo and Donatello, who can stay airborne indefinitely; Leonardo, meanwhile, has to use his portals to catch himself and Raphael periodically, portalling them back to the sky or giving them a portal to ground to launch off of. This leaves them open to attack.

Draxum couldn’t have made it in time if he’d wanted to, but in the moment he isn’t thinking he has to.

One of the unfocused black flames strikes Raphael; his ninpo projection protects him from being harmed, but he still lets out a gasp of surprise as it burns rapidly through the ninpo itself, leaving him exposed. Donatello swoops in to catch him before he can fall, and all the boys hang back for a moment, stunned by this development.

“What was that!?” Leonardo calls out, portaling above Donatello and landing on his constructed battleshell (Donatello says, “Oof!” loudly, but doesn’t throw him off). “It just burned through Raph’s shield like it was tissue paper!”

“Augh… that felt… weird.” Raphael is rubbing at his temple with his fingers. “Raph did not like that.”

“Alright, clearly this guy is dangerous.” Leonardo is tense, eyes focused as he watches the cloaked figure yank free of the stringy ropes of magic from the vortex, coming closer. “But see how the portal’s trying to pull them back in? We just gotta get them close enough and send ‘em back where they came from.”

He glances over at Michelangelo. Draxum looks, too. The boy’s brow is creased, like he isn’t happy with this outcome, but his eyes are focused on Raphael.

“...Yeah,” he says finally, and gives his nunchucks a swing. They light up with his orange ninpo, the bright fire a stark contrast to their enemy’s dark flames. “Let’s send ‘em back!”

The boys spring back into action, and Draxum follows suit, his vines carrying him up, closer to the vortex. Now he can feel more of the thing’s power directly, a great gusting wind that pulls rather than pushes. He hangs back from the direct fighting and instead watches the boys closely, should he need to intervene the way he hadn’t for Raphael. If the fire can eat through their ninpo, then any of them being struck would be disastrous - especially if one of the others could not catch them in time.

The kids are succeeding in their gambit to push the figure back towards the vortex, but that means they are also increasingly putting themselves in range of its dangerous reach. The ropey strands of dark mystic energy reach out like hungry tendrils, latching onto scales before being cut or shaken off. Leonardo has all but abandoned the fight against the figure and instead puts his efforts into slicing the strands apart any time they touch one of his brothers, either directly with his katana or with a well placed portal. He leaves the strands that attach themselves to the mysterious person, and they wrap more firmly around the legs, arms, and neck of the one in the cloak.

And that’s when they finally speak.

“No!” they cry out, in a voice unmistakably juvenile. “No, please! I just want to escape - don’t make me go back!”

Michelangelo stops short, bobbing uncertainly only a few meters from the screaming figure (a boy, Draxum thinks, but cannot be sure). “Guys,” he says hesitantly, lowering his weapons. “I really think we should-”

Whatever he was about to say is interrupted by a burst of flames from the cloaked boy’s hands, spiraling directly towards him.

“MIKEY!” shout several voices at once; Draxum only realizes a beat later that one of them is his. He’s the closest, and he moves fast, putting himself and a wall of vines between the flames and his son.

The flames make such short work of the vines, it’s almost comical. Draxum watches as the fire races down the towering stalk he’s made, eating them away and leaving nothing behind, not even ashes. The vine Draxum was standing on is, of course, completely obliterated, and he feels the swoop in his stomach as gravity starts its relentless pull.

“Dad!” he hears Michelangelo call out. The boy reaches a hand toward them, and in his panic Draxum reaches back. They are only a few meters from each other, and then less and then less, fingers almost touching-

But it is something else that grabs him first.

The vortex’s dark energy feels disgusting and slimy where it touches Draxum’s fur, like a leech pulled from some noxious bog. Its tug is ferociously strong, and he realizes that if Leonardo had not been quick, if the magic had wrapped around any of his brothers’ limbs the way it’s wrapped around Draxum’s arm, disentangling them would have taken massive effort. As it’s going to take to free him now.

There’s a yank, and he’s ripped away from Michelangelo and towards the vortex.

“No!” screeches the cloaked boy, and sputtering flames spill out around him, forcing the turtles back before they can move in to rescue him. “No! Get away! Leave me alone!”

“Gladly!” Draxum shouts back, ripping and yanking to try and free his arm. “Just close this foolish portal and go back where you came from!”

“I can’t!” the boy screams, and he sounds so wretched, Draxum almost feels some sympathy for him. “I can’t! I can’t!”

“You must!” Draxum argues, because he can tell. The energy has wrapped too securely around the cloaked boy now; there will be no freeing him. The portal he made is impressive, especially as young as he sounds, but it is not complete. He could not be severed from it, even if they tried to help. In fact, if they fully pulled him from the vortex, it would likely kill the child.

No; he must go back. But… is there still time for Draxum?

“Barry!” he hears the boys call out. They try to get close, but another burst of searing heat from the panicked boy in the vortex keeps them from advancing. More of the stringy ropes of magic are wrapping around Draxum now, on his arms, his torso, his legs. His neck. They yank him back, hard, and he gasps as the air leaves his lungs. The mystic energy slithers over him like a living creature, wrapping him up more and more securely in its snare.

It seems… there is not.

“NO!” screams the cloaked boy, one last panicked, desperate cry, but then his voice is abruptly silenced. There’s a roaring noise, incomprehensibly loud, and Draxum faintly wonders if this is how it sounds when a star collapses in on itself.

The last thing he sees as the portal closes around him is Michelangelo’s face, eyes wide and afraid, mouth open in a shout, hand outstretched as far as it can go.

And then all is dark.

…

When Draxum wakes, he’s laying on the ground in an alley in the Hidden City.

He feels a flash of something markedly unpleasant when he realizes he’s alone: sadness, betrayal, perhaps even, Titan forbid, loneliness. It seems the boys have left him to his fate and gone home.

Then he remembers the portal, and Donatello and Michelangelo’s guess that it was interdimensional. It’s likely the boys don’t know where he is. It’s possible he’s not even in the same time.

Or the same world at all.

Disturbing as that thought is, the part of the Hidden City he can see from his vantage point seems familiar enough. He recognizes this as a part of the old downtown, not far from where he and the kids had been fighting the cloaked boy. Even if this isn’t his time, at least he should still be able to navigate - that makes things easier.

He gets to his feet, shaking the soreness out of his limbs. He hears something pop, and is suddenly immensely glad the boys aren’t here after all. He’d rather not endure another round of teasing for being “old”.

The Hidden City he travels through seems largely the same as the one he left, to a degree that he starts to wonder if it wasn’t an interdimensional portal after all. If it was, the dimension he’s in now seems to have only slight variations.

Or that’s what he thinks, until he makes it to the nearest portal back to New York City.

There’s a checkpoint set up in front of it, one that didn’t exist here before. There are guards standing sentinel, ushering through a line of yokai and occasionally asking questions. They don’t seem hostile to the yokai, but it does seem like precautions need to be taken for… some reason.

More startling to Draxum are the crests that adorn banners hung around the checkpoint, matching emblems blazed on the uniforms of the officers.

His family’s crest.

It seems this dimension is quite different after all.

#dandy fanfiction #step-brothers au

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just-some-random-blogger · 13 hours ago

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LKAHSFL'H I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT REBLOGGED THIS YET LAKSFHLKASHFL'HASFHASF ASF YOU MUST FORGIVE ME I DONT WANT TO CLOG THE DASH WITH A REBLOG OF THE SAME CHAPTER YA FEEL ILY ILY

first of all, almost crying during a nail appointment is honestly such iconic behavior HAHAHHAHAHHAH LOLOLOL. im kinda sad you stopped reading ): you should have cried during the nail appointment AHHAHAHAHAHAH LOLOLOL JK

CARGYLL TWIN SCREENTIME GO BRRRRRRRRRR RAHHHH. i would never take erryk or arryk for that matter from you <3 I WISH THEY HAD MORE SCREEN TIME IN THE SHOW FR THEY FUCKING KILLED THEM AND TRAUMATIZED ME AND FOR WHAT???????????

and viserys yeah 😬😬😬 T_T i love making people have sympathy for him even when hes disgusting 😁 because thats the whole point of this story (: i love my barbies. i wish him a very much rot

STARK OBESSION GO BRRR. tumblr notified me you posted something and I RAN COS I THOUGHT IT WAS AN UPDATE but it was just a reblog of your fic 🙄 WHICH IS FINE AND IM NOT PRESSURING YOU AT ALL TO UPDATE. job and robb are hot fr but i wanted benjen THEN THEY FUCKING OFFED HIM 🤬 also HE PROBABLY HAS ONE HAS ME GAGGED.

[...] Older me can now see Ned's appeal too. He probably has one, with how much Catelyn loved having his babies)

I WAS ABOUT TO ASK 'HAS WHAT' then i realized you mean APPEAL T_T he probably has APPEAL T_T CRYINNNGGGGGGGG. i cant help but think about all the boromir memes (cuz you know sean bean) and how his dad would react to this MY SON HAS APPEAL 🤬 HAHAHAHAH LMAO. honestly, i feel catelyn. if i was married to a stark id have 10000 babies too AHHAHA LOL

The scene where she lost the babies hurt me physically. I now get what you said and why you laughed when I hoped the baby was valyrian to spare her the pain, you cruel, cruel woman.

its ok i love you

DAEMON GROVEL ERA IS A NEED. dont worry about spam liking i love it when that happens

[...] making Viserys and Alicent's marriage be all about him [...]

YOU KNOW WHAT YOURE SO RIGHT. HE THINKS HES THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE FR OMLLL UGHHH EWW

HERES TO HIM BEING JEALOUS AND SUFFERING FOREVER FOR LIFE

ALSO MY GEORGE FIC WEEE I THINK IT WAS REALLY CUTE! i was honestly gagged that i struggled to write fluff 💀 all because of this series 😀 BUT THENI GOT MY GROOVE AND IM MAKING A GEORGE ANGST NOW BECAUSE IM INSANE HAHAHHA I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

Tormented Spirit | 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: i would just like to bring everyone's attention to the fact this fic is called tormented spirit. BTW some of yall might wanna read my weasely twins fluff cuz 😀 yeah you should read some fluff! leave comments/reblogs ok!!! MERRY CHRISTMAS | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Since your sister's wedding, there were two things you no longer did: speak to your sister and go to your father. Everyday, instead of having the Lord Hand accompany you to your maester, you were accompanied by one of your wards.

At first, you were apprehensive with the change. After all, they were your knights, but neither of them were the father to your babe, and even fathers were rarely involved with prenatal care. Though, the patience they extended is not unusual, you were surprised that Erryk and Arryk took time asking the maester additional information concerning things that might need their attention in the future.

Today, you walk to the maester's ward, one hand on your belly the other on Erryk's bicep. As he opens the door, you freeze when you hear the voices in the room.

"Daughter." "Sister."

These words are spoken at the same time. You clench your teeth and turn to Erryk, whose jaw is set. You take a breath and decide to simply come back later.

Alicent stands the cot she sat upon and raises a hand, "please! I'm finished. You can come now."

Finished? Why is she being examined by the maester?

Otto is angered by your persistence to ignore them. He scowls and glares at Erryk, "you remind your princess to practice some humility," he points a finger, "her actions are affecting the queen, who is now carrying an heir."

Your face drops as you turn to her.

She is already staring at you. You watch her pick her nails. You catch the redness of her cuticles.

Erryk is equally shocked. He stutters before nodding in regard, "congratulations, my queen."

Alicent shakes her head, forcing a smile, "t-thank you, ser."

Your father's eyes remain on you. He waits for you to offer the same sentiment, but his anger only intensifies at your continued silence. He scoffs, "will you not even congratulate your sister?"

You clutch your pronounced belly and turn to your maester, "may we please do the examination? I cannot bear to stand for long."

Otto and Alicent watch you move past them. The latter is resigned to your commitment of not speaking to her, the former seethes and laughs dryly. He offers his arm to the queen, "come, daughter. Let us pray that your sister's impertinence is merely as side effect of childbearing."

Your sister spares you a glassy glance before taking Otto's arm and leaving with him. You watch as they leave, feeling yourself grow hard of breathing.

The maester asks you to sit, but before you do, you snatch his arm, "is she truly with child?"

He looks at your teary face. He feels the tremble of your hand as he places his own atop of it. He carefully speaks "it is joyous news, is it not?"

You release a shaky breath as he helps you sit.

"Princess," the maester warily says, "breathe for me. We cannot proceed if you overcome by your affliction."

You place both your hands on your belly and take a couple deep breaths. You close your eyes and resist the sob that threatens to come. A couple of tears wet your cheeks, but you manage to remain intact. You wipe your face and mutter to yourself, "it's barely been a moon since they've wed."

Your maester hears it though and offers, "your sister is blessed with a fertile womb."

You wish he had not tried to comfort you with such an idea.

You try not to think of Alicent as you do your daily examination, but she is all you think of. You think of how frightened she must be. You think of how your father surely told her about your daily visits to the maester. You wonder if he would force her to do the same, just to get you to talk to her. She wouldn't need daily examinations like you; she is perfectly healthy, stronger than you, as she said herself.

You are so deep in thought, you don't even realize the maester was finished with you, up until he says something that demands your full attention.

"What?" you knit your brows at him.

"We will be more certain of it as the moons wax and wane, but considering you are a twin yourself, and, again, because of the rather rapid growth of your belly, chances are my deduction is correct."

He helps you up and Erryk is quick to take your arm. You mutter through a shaky breath, "I'm carrying twins?"

Your maester nods, "highly likely."

You turn to Erryk, who offers you a reassuring smile, "I... congratulate you, my princess."

You stare at him for a moment and blink rapidly.

"You might give birth to a boy and girl who will have the same devotion you and your brother have," Erryk says in an attempt to take away some of the fear written across your face.

It does actually. You recall your visit to Oldtown and find yourself nodding, "I... I must write a letter at once."

Many moons come and go, but across the sea, the sun shines. Daemon's day has just started. His mood is nothing but sour, as it always is. He is loathe to start his day, but he does, and with a grunt, and leaves his tent to break his fast.

We eats with the Velaryons, Corlys, Vaemond, and Laenor, and though he did not hold any particular fondness for them, there was something in the way they all spoke in nothing but High Valyrian that made mornings not completely unbearable.

"My prince," Corlys greets him in their mother tongue. He hands Daemon a plate, "duck."

Daemon raises his brow at it, "with salt?"

"And pepper," Leanor says with a half-amused expression.

"My," Daemon sits down with them, "I am spoiled."

Corlys waits for Daemon to have a few bites before continuing conversation. He clears his throat, "before the day passes, allow me, my brother, and my son-" he looks between the said people, earning furrowed brows from Laenor, "-to greet you, both on behalf of House Velaryon, and as your comrade in battle for you—"

"Oh, yes!" Leanor interjects once he remembers, "congratulations, my prince!"

This earns him a look from his father, and his uncle. Laenor, who had been grinning, slowly raises his brows, "a-... apologies for interrupting, father."

Corlys sighs, "as I was-"

"And have we won the war overnight?" the prince says, rather uninterested, both in small talk and in his duck.

Corlys is confused by this, "I... no." He slowly tilts his head, "does your lady wife not write to you?"

Daemon is immediately on edge at the mention of you, "and what of her?"

Corlys narrows his eyes. He puts him to the test, "... you are aware your brother, the king, has remarried?"

Daemon whips his head his direction.

"And that also he expects an heir to be delivered come spring?"

"Remarried?!" Daemon repeats in offence, "and which scheming cunt managed to tricked him into marriage?"

Corlys turns to Vaemond, who turns to Leanor, who turns back to Corlys. The latter clears his throat, "your bride's sister, my prince."

His eyes widen. He looks between the Velaryons, then scoffs dryly. He begins to laugh, "that roach of a Hand has Viserys's bollocks shoved down his fucking throat."

Their faces contort at the foul language. Vaemond, in particular, is so offended that he cannot help but ask, "doesn't the princess write to you every day?"

Daemon clenches his plate

"And she never mentioned thi—"

"WHAT USE HAVE I TO READ THE WEEPY WRITING OF MY WIFE?!" the prince snaps, coming to a stand as he chucks his plate to the ground.

Corlys understands then Daemon's initial shock. However, he is still confused, "have you not read any letters from your wife?"

"Would you rather I be distracted, Corlys?" he snaps again, hands now clenched into fists.

Corlys is not intimidated by Daemon's anger, but he is also unincited by the idea a fight. He raises his hands in surrender, "most men gladly welcome distractions in the heat of war."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "I am not most men," then storms all the way back to his tent.

"Jiōragon hen ñuha ñuhoso!" he snaps in High Valyrian still, shoving the unwitting soldier aside. Get out of my way!

He returns to his tent. Another unwitting victim is there. "My prince," he bows, "a letter from Lady H-" Daemon snags the letter from him and shoves him away with exceeding anger and force.

He enters his tent and immediately chucks the letter to the floor, as if it was a vase he intended to shatter into a million pieces. It doesn't, of course; the paper remains intact, along with its seal. He crushes it beneath his heel then grabs the sack containing all your unread letters. He empties it on the floor and violently begins to stomp all over them.

You were his. You were meant to be his! Yet here you were, a pawn in someone else's game. His lust and infatuation has blinded him from this truth. You and your sister were mere tools of your cunt father to manipulate the throne.

He continues to trample your letters until they are brown with the dirt. He catches a lone letter that managed to evade his violence. He picks the unscathed object and only now does he realize its red waxen seal had an imprint of a dragon with a long neck that resembled Caraxes. Daemon scoffs, even his dragon you covet.

He breaks the seal. The letter was sent nearly a moon ago.

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔩. ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 𝔱𝔬 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. ℑ 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢; ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡. ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢, 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔱 𝔒𝔩𝔡𝔱𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔬𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬𝔬𝔫. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢

A good place to raise children?! He scoffs and crumples the paper away. You fantasize of bearing his seed now? He laughs at the idea, chucking the paper across his tent. His amusement goes dry when he realizes it must be your father's ploy.

He's read enough.

Back in the Keep, you too receive a letter. It is from Gwayne, whose weekly response has finally arrived. You do not mind that he does not write to you daily as you did; you are grateful to receive a response at all.

You were set on reading his response, but as is was, you were experiencing terrible nausea and found yourself unable to sit or lie still. For some reason, the only thing that could combat this was walking around. You instead had your ward read your brother's words aloud for you.

Arryk's eyes trail back and forth you and your letter. He comes to your side when you gag, "princess."

You place a hand on your mouth, walking away from him. He watches as you circle your bed, "perhaps, I-"

"Please," you sigh, "do not make me beg you to read it."

Arryk stiffens and shakes his head, "my apologies, your grace." He turns to the parchment, "my twin."

" Louder," you grunt as you momentarily lean on your bed.

"My twin," Arryk repeats slightly louder, "I pray that your health is good, that you have been eating and sleeping as goodly as you did in the days of your visit here."

You take a deep breath and walk towards nothing in particular.

"While I confess a certain light has been lost in the halls of our Oldtown home since your leave, I..." your ward knits his brows, "disagree with your sentiments to return."

"What?" you gasp softly, turning to Arryk.

He looks at you and hesitates, "I... will not honey my words: you disappoint me with your coldness towards our youngest."

You clench your teeth as you feel another gag coming up, "fucking, Gwayne."

"She has written to me more than once to lament your severed relations since she's wed."

Your scoff makes Arryk pause. You look at him as you walk over, "do not stop."

He looks at you as you walk past him. He clears his throat, "I did not speak of it until now, for I believed you to be wiser than your betrayal."

"Ha!" you scoff, eyes immediately watering, "incorrigible pest," you grunt and rub your belly. You pace faster, "unyielding. Unfeeling."

Arryk watches you pace and takes a few steps back and forth so to remain arms reach of you.

"Continue!"

He stiffens, "I—," he turns back to your brother's words, "you've written you believe it will be better for you both that you away, lest your childbearing interlope with hers. I disagree. Consider me a fool-"

"He is," you scratch your eyes.

"-a man who knows nothing of childbirth, which I am, but I know my sisters— I know you at the very least." Arryk watches you as he says the next words, "leaving Alicent will haunt you, your satisfaction short-lived."

You stop in your tracks. You feel your dress tighten around you.

"Lay down your pride and allow yourself to reach for your sister who understands your struggle unlike anyone in the Seven Realms now more than ever."

You feel sick, sicker.

"Upon doing so, see then if you still wish to come to home."

You heave as you continue walking around.

"I offer many prayers to the Mother for both you and our sister. We are truly grown from the same womb, for I too share in your hope that you give birth to a twin boy and girl."

You rub your belly, as the thought softens you a fraction.

"Mostly, I speak thanks and praise for I am to be doubly an uncle. I pray your births come timely and smoothly, and I pray the Lord Hand has extended nothing but gentleness to you both," he folds the paper, "Your Twin."

"See now," you turn to Arryk, "even my twin betrays me, abandons me," you feel tears run down your cheek.

He slowly walks towards you, "that is not what he's done, my princess."

"Then what?!" you shake your hands, "am I not allowed even my anger now?!"

He is taken off guard when you shove him back.

"Even you are against me!"

Arryk steps back, though you barely mustered enough force for him to need to. You quickly pace around again. He feels the flesh beneath his steel you touched begin to push. His lips part "do not accuse me so harshly."

You whip your head back, glaring at him with red eyes, "SHE COULD HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO A LORD IN THE RIVERLANDS! OR HIGHGARDEN!" You throw your hand out, "ANYWHERE BUT HERE, BUT HERE SHE IS!"

His face falls when your rage makes you crumble. He gasp your name out as he catches you just before you fall.

"And for what?!" you wheeze as you are dragged to your bed. You rip at your collar as your chest tightens and tightens and tightens, "for me?"

"Princess," the knight's voice breaks with worry as he sits you down, "I beg you, ple-"

"Undress me," you mutter as you strugggle for air, "unlace my dress, I-"

He does not wait. He is quick to undo your bodice. He is so frantic, he nearly cuts your ties.

You moan as you feel a pressure leave you. You rip your dress off you, thinking of nothing else but catching your breath. Arryk helps you undress and you find it slightly easier to breath once you are left in nothing but your chemise.

Your ward struggles with himself; he does not wish to take advantage of this moment to ogle you, but he also cannot avert his gaze completely, lest you need his assistance. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze to his lap, muttering your name softly.

"Never mind my inadequacies, Arryk," you sigh in between deep breaths, "never mind that I will forever be second best to my father, who even wed me to his greatest enemy... who I am to make grandsire to not one but two Targaryen babes."

"Princess," he shakes his head, "I do not wish to-"

"I am used to his insistence of my dimness," you rub your chest, "of my capacity only for tears and succumbing to my own pain," your lips wobble, "but my sister—"

He stiffens and turns to you as lean into him. Your breath is too short and your head too heavy for you to keep yourself upright. Arryk calls our your name as he shifts, bringing his arm around to pull you upright.

"No," you wince, feeling a sharp pain in your belly, "hold me please."

He is immediately alarmed by how you clutch your side, "princess, are you-"

"Please," you rest your head on his armor, "hold me, even if you do not want to."

His hand twitches before, placing it your bare arm. He leans close, close enough to press his lips on your head, but he does not dare. He rubs your skin and whispers, "I want for nothing else."

You are too distracted by yourself that you do not hear him. Uncomfortable as the feel of his armor was, he lulls you into calmness.

When you feel well enough to realize how compromising it would be if someone were to witness you both, you pull away.

He says nothing, does nothing. He simply sit besides you, taking in your sad face.

You a tear drip from the tip of your nose. You rub it away before mumbling, "I had well-made plans for her... plans to shield her, to prosper her."

His eyes fall. He looks at the hand you had on your lap and dares to take it. It is cold and clammy, which is why he rubs it, eager to spread warmth.

The gesture makes goosebumps form on your arms. It makes your breath hitch, but not in a painful way. His gentleness encourages you to continue, "I once thought she looked up to me," you sniffle, "but when she said she was stronger than I," you lower your head.

He frowns.

"I knew then," you look back at him, "she sees only my weakness, along with the rest of the world."

He cannot help himself. He reaches for your cheek and wipes your tears.

You lean into his touch, "I can be strong, Arryk," you both his hands and squeeze them to prove a point, "can you not feel it?"

The gesture makes his heart break. He squeezes your hands in return, "you need not prove such a thing to me," he rubs your skin with his thumbs, "perhaps she does not want you to be strong... not for her."

You huff, "I am her older si-"

"But for your babe."

You are frozen by his words. You open your mouth but find nothing to say.

"Your brother," he gives you a solemn expression, "he says he prays the Lord Hand extends his gentleness to you, but I wonder if all that remained of his gentleness manifested into his daughters' beings."

The thought brings a tear from your eye, "Arryk."

"My princess."

"Should I speak to my sister come the morrow?"

He squeezes your hand again before slowly nodding.

The next day, you do everything in your power to do just that. You found Alicent breaking her fast, but you did not want to inadvertently ruin her appetite with your sudden appearance, for you knew how fickle it was in these times. Later, you found her in her chambers napping, but you didn't wish to interrupt her then either.

The rest of the day, you started feeling unwell, and you could not find it in you to leave your own chambers. When you finally did, the sun had set and Alicent was nowhere to be found. As a last resort, you ventured to the king's chambers.

Erryk announces you once you reach Viserys's door. You look at your knight with apprehension but he only returns a reassuring nod. There is a rather... sickly smell that assaults your senses when the door opens. The king himself answers, brows quirked in surprise.

"My king," you barely manage a curtsy. Erryk nods, "your grace."

Viserys regards you both then asks, "what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

"I wanted to know if my sister was here," you absentmindedly rub your belly, "I wish to speak to her."

The king catches your belly, "oh, yes." He places a hand on your shoulder, "you are also with child," he chuckles, "I keep forgetting to congratulate you face to face."

You are taken aback by the half-hug he pulls you into.

Viserys chuckles as he pulls away, "well done, my dear. You have made the realm, and more importantly my brother, all the more richer for this."

You are rigid as he beckons you inside. Viserys motions to Erryk dismissively, and he nods. You wards gives you a silent look, and you know he'll wait for you outside.

Once you enter, you are assaulted by a scent that has clearly been attempted to be masked by fragrances. It makes you gag slightly, but it is not so bad that you cannot comport yourself.

You had expected to be lead to your sister, but instead, the king leads you to a massive diorama of what you could tell to be King's Landing.

"I am unsure where my wife is presently-"

His regard to your sister makes you clench your jaw.

"-but she visits me oft at this time of hour. Might as well show you my miniature figurines whilst waiting," he grins as he motions to the said object.

You feel an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach as you walk over to him.

Viserys immediately beams over his creation, recounting the trouble he had carving out the tower, exclaiming how much he enjoyed shaping the bridge. You have never seen him in such a light and it makes you wonder if this was his true self. Did he regard your husband this way? What were they like as children?

As he handed you two separate failed attempts of carving his fallen dragon, Balerion, you listen to him muse how the beast's skull was preserved in the basement bellow, and how he would gladly bring you there if you wanted to see. You groan and slightly lurch when another painful sensation ripples within you.

Viserys notices this. He quickly takes the figurines from you, "oh, where are my manners," he pulls a chair to your side, "sit, sit."

You gratefully take a seat and take a couple deep breathes as the king continues to drone about his diorama.

"You know, I used to make toy soldiers for Daemon growing up. I was aghast when he came back to me with severed heads."

You chuckle at his words, but instantly regret it when it adds to your pain.

"I still made him new ones, but this time, I put less effort and detail," Viserys speaks before noticing your reaction, "are you alright?"

"Mmm," you shake your head, "I think my babes are moving."

His brows quirk, "ah. That's right. You are expecting twins, are you not?"

You release a sigh when the uncomfortable sensations finally wane. You take a breath and offering a smile, "so says my maester. I hope it to be a boy and girl, like me and Gwayne."

He smiles, "it is quite fortunate that you and your sister are to have children at the same time," he looks over his miniature castle, "don't you think?"

"I think..." you turn to your belly, another groan leaving your lips, "Alicent is not ready to have children."

Viserys turns to you.

You look up at him and purse your lips, "nor am I."

He chuckles softly, "none of us are," he places a hand on your shoulder, "but I assure you, you learn as you go."

You find no comfort in his words.

"You know who has been ready though," he raises a finger, "Daemon."

The thought nearly makes you flinch.

He chuckles, "do not look so averted. There is gentleness in him," he turns back to his diorama, "do you not perceive it?"

You begin to feel sick.

"I tell you, when Rhaenyra was born, his face shone."

Your brows tighten at the smile the king offers you.

"I could tell as he held my child, he thought her the most precious thing in the worlds," Viserys face softens, "I could tell he wanted to have something precious to hold as his own," he absentmindedly examines a chisel, "the gods bless me with a wife who is going to birth me something precious," he turns to you, "and a good-sister who is going to birth my brother something doubly precious."

His words make your heart tinge. You are blindsided by how genuine, how vulnerable your conversation is. You wonder if Alicent saw this amidst the cruelty of the world and decided to settle for it rather than the uncertainty from another man. As he falls deeper into another fond tale of his brother, you feel a dull pain spread across your hips.

"That reminds me," he claps his hands, "do you have any names picked out yet?"

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, "well... I've-" you huff, "gone through some books that held Valyrian names," you inhale, "and found a few names for boys, namely Vaerus,—"

"Ah, Vaerus," Viserys repeats, "meaning genuine."

"Eadan—"

He grins and points, "little fire."

"—and Alaeric," you huff.

"Hmm," he turns to the ceiling in thought, "no, I don't know that one."

You are restless because of your pain. You groan as you stand, "I- mmm- prefer the last one the most because it is similar to my mother's name, and I should like to name my boy and girl after her."

He chuckles, "you seem quite set on a boy and a girl."

"Mmm," you hum uncomfortably, "I- I hope for it." You rub your belly, "I hope they have fondness for each other like me and mine own twin."

He knits his brows at your demeanor, "a son and a daughter would suit you well," he smiles fondly, "what was the name of your late mother again?"

"A-" you groan, "Alyrie."

Viserys finally reaches for you, "are you quite certain you're alright?"

You hum as you take the king's bicep, squeezing him tightly, "mmm, I should like to lie down now."

"Yes, of course," he shakes his head, leading you to the door.

Just before you can reach the entrance, a great pain forces you to lurch forward and yelp. You grip onto Viserys's arm for dear life and he grips you with hands. He thinks to grab the chair he pulled for you again, but as he looks back , his eyes widen at the trail of blood that leads to it. "GUARD! GUARD!"

You are in too much pain to react to the king's screams. You can only screw your eyes shut.

Erryk bursts through the doors, face white, heart racing.

"CALL THE MAESTER AT ONCE! SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Your eyes widen at the word, "bleeding?" You momentarily manage to gather enough wits to see what Viserys was speaking of.

Erryk does not linger in his horror. He bolts out and sprints down the halls, screaming for a maester as if his life depended on it because yours did.

The sight of your blood is mortifying. You lift your skirt as pain continues to seizes and a horrified noise leaves you when you find the red that pools by your foot.

It all happens at once after. An ache so great forces you to the floor. You are burning hot yet shivers run down your spine. You do not know if Viserys is speaking as you slowly crumple your knees but you do know that you are screaming loud.

Then it passes. Serenity ebbs and flows. You manage to sit on your but, but then it's back with a vengeance. You resist the squeal that morphs into to a shriek and then— you gasp, "no."

Viserys watches, the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms watches as you rip your skirt up and tear your ruined undergarments down, powerless.

Your scream makes his stomach curdle.

Your hands tremble as you reach for the two small bodies between your thighs. You bring them into your chest, uncaring of all else, how wet they are, how red stains you, how Viserys speaks your name. Your babes are are small; they are both far, far too small.

Anguish draws more noises from your throat. It doesn't take long until your voice is hoarse. You cannot keep your peace as you take in their tiny faces. You wipe them with your skirt, finding the silver of their brows and lashes. You also find the gods gave you a girl and a boy. You choke on a sob as you wipe the red away from their thin, white locks, "please wake for your mummy."

The words arrest Viserys. He recalls holding Baelon as life left him. He cherishes now more than ever that at least his boy gazed upon him once. He shares in your misery, yet does not know if how he should approach you; he does not know if he should. He does anyway, no matter how haunting the sound of your wails are.

You quiet momentarily as the man crouches beside you. Your lips wobble, "p-perhaps they'll wake up if you speak High Valyrian."

The thought is gutting.

You gently pull at one babe's eyelid, finding a violet eye looking back at you. Except it isn't looking at you at all and the thought makes you squall. You clutch your children tightly into your chest, rocking them back and forth, "forgive me, my loves. Forgive me for birthing you too soon."

Erryk finally arrives with the maesters. He is stunned in his spot whereas the maesters run to your side. He falls to his knees as lift your children up. They do not touch them, but instead look at each other before muttering something that makes you pull your twins back into your chest.

Your ward is ashamed to face you. He has failed you. Erryk comes to a stand and dares to come near you. You do not notice him. You do not care for anything or anyone else in this moment.

Crimson grief trails behind you as you make your way to the maester's ward. Erryk meant to carry you, but you refused, knowing the walk there would be the last time you'd ever get to hold your children. He silently walks beside you, eyeing your every move.

You freeze when you see your sister by the door. Erryk looks between the two of you, ready to give you space.

Alicent is distraught. Her eyes are nearly as red as yours and you can how her hands tremble even as she picks at them, "sister, I-"

"I wanted to talk to you earlier today."

Her face falls and she immediately runs up to you. She reaches for you but stops herself.

You frown at it, thinking it was because you had been cruel to her, "forgive me, sister."

She rapidly shakes her head, "do not even mention it."

A tear fog your vision, "very well," you sniffle as you lower your gaze, "would... would you like to see them?

She wordlessly agrees.

You step closer to her, "this is Alaeric... and Alyrie."

A hand comes to her mouth, "sister."

"They're perfect, are they not?"

She nods rapidly, "yes—" she shudders, "they are."

You sob with her as she brings her arms around you. Erryk cannot bare the sight. Hot tears run into his armor. Both him and Alicent stay with you as the maester's see to your health. They let you hold Alaeric and Alyrie until your examination commences, and then you confess that if they do not take them now, you will never let them be taken from you ever again.

You were exhausted as you lie in bed. Your body yearned for repose, but you could do nothing of the sort. You groggily stand and walk to your door.

Erryk starts. You caught him in the middle of scratching tears away from his eyes. You frown, "forgive me."

"No, princess," he shakes his head and turns to you, "how might I serve."

You bite your lip, hating yourself for what you were about to request, "I know it is terrible..." you sigh deeply, "I know it is inappropriate, and wrong, and an abuse of my power over you," you tremble, "but please you sleep with me."

"My princess, I-"

"Please," you raise a hand, "if it is too horrible, per- perhaps-" you hiccup, "you can drag the set— the settee beside my bed-"

He silences you by taking your raised hand. You continue to sob as he shakes his head, "I would do anything you ask of me."

You sob and throw your arms around him. Erryk embraces you back, though he was afraid his hard uniform might hurt you.

Otto sees this exchange from across the hall. He had not been moved to tears until this moment. He scratches his eyes before they fall and steels himself away as he walks off. He mentally takes note to observe the Cargyll brothers and to sternly remind them of their vows.

Erryk follows you to your bed. You crawl into your bed as he drags the settee from across the room beside you. You offer him a pillow and he gratefully take it. You knit your brows when he lies down. You sniffle, "will you not take your armor off?"

"I..." he start, about to explain it is inappropriate.

"Is it hard to remove by yourself?" you sit up, "I can help."

"I-" but his words go dry when you begin to undo his steel uniform with much ease.

All your years assisting Gwayne in and out of his armor has made the act come easy for you. You think nothing of it, but Erryk's heart races as you undo his chest plate. He sucks in a sharp breath as you put the metal down, then refuses your help, resigning to undo the rest himself.

You sink into your sheets as you watch your knight lay his armor down. It occurs to you in this moment that this was the first time you'd ever seen him without it. Even through his loose dress shirt, you can see his defined arms and torso. You even see a sliver of a scar from where his shirt opened on his chest and it makes you avert your gaze, knowing you've looked where you should not have.

Your lips begin to wobble as you think of Daemon and the scars he had on his skin. You feel pathetic as you begin to sob again.

Erryk hates the sound. He sits down on the settee and sniffles, "would you like me to sing for you?"

You wipe the snot on your philtrum as you look at him.

"I do not think I inherited her voice, but my mother used to sing to my brother and I when we were younger."

The word mother makes you feel sick, but you do not tell him that, and simply nod.

He clears his throat and takes a breath, "the fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head."

A chuckle is drawn amidst your tears as Erryk continues to sing.

"The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

You ask him to repeat this song over and over and he humors you each time.

The day breaks and Arryk comes to your door for his shift. He holds a basket of flowers and a frown. He knocks on your door and announces himself. He is surprised when he hears footsteps approaching. His eyes widen when Erryk opens the door for him. His mouth falls at the messiness of his hair, then it clicks. Arryk nearly drops his basket as he grabs his twin by the collar, "what in seven hells have you done, you fool?"

Erryk is stoic as he responds, "my duty."

"Your-" he looks over his shoulder and pushes his brother into the room, closing the door behind him. Arryk makes sure to keep the silence and spares you a quick glance. The sight of your sleeping form makes him slightly soften, but he still manages to glare at his brother, "did you sleep here?"

Erryk turns to you, "she asked-"

"Did you sleep with her?" Arryk snaps.

The twins glare at each other. Erryk's face contorts in disgust, "I slept on the settee, brother. What do you take me fo-"

"I take you for a fool!" Arryk quips under his breath as he points an accusing finger.

Erryk scoffs, clenching his fist, "and you would have left?"

"I would have waited for her to sleep and resumed my post outsi-"

"Please."

The twins turn, finding you sitting on your bed, rubbing your puffy face. They both instinctively step forward and speak in unison, "princess."

"Please," you repeat, "I asked him to stay."

Arryk turns to Erryk.

"I do not want you to argue because-" you cannot continue because you begin to cry.

Both their faces fall, but Erryk wastes no time in coming to you. He kneels beside your bed and takes your hand, repeating the song he sang to you last night.

Arryk immediately recognizes the tune. His heart tightens as he watches the display. He mutters under his breath, "what have you done?" He walks over to him and watches the way you squeeze his brother's hand. He thinks of how you did the same for him just yesterday and clenches the basket's handle tightly. He begins to sing with his twin.

"The fishes swim in seas of blue, and dragons breath fire so red. All the birds sing sweetly for you, so come rest ye darling wee head.

The apples grow up the trees, and flowers rise up from the ground. All the stars shine brightly for you, so come rest ye all safe and sound."

These are the very words you sing to your sister's son.

Alicent was with child again, and you were giving her a much needed reprieve from her energetic boy who was now nearing his second name day. Aegon happily reached for flowers as you carried him through the gardens. He laughs with not a care in the world. It is strange how deeply happy and deeply sad the boy makes you feel.

Through it all, you smile as you sing. You bounce him in your hip once you finish, "right, shall we go back now?"

Aegon blissfully ignores you when his hand brushes against a flower. You pull him away before he can grab it, and push his hand down, "no, my love, we do not pick roses so carelessly."

Aegon cares little for your words and raises his hand again, "flower!"

You push his hand down and look at him, "you want the rose?" You adjust him in your arm, "you want to pick the rose for mummy?"

"Mummy?" Aegon repeats, turning to you to reach for your brown curls.

You chuckle when he tries to eat it and pull your hair away before he manages to, "silly boy. Shall we ask Ser Arryk to pick the flower for us?"

"Flower for mummy!" he bounces in your arms.

You bounce him back, making him giggle as you repeat, "flower for mummy!" You flip your hair back, "Ser Arryk, could you-"

Your mouth goes dry when you see Daemon staring back at you.

#arabellasleopardcoat cutie #cristi loml #daemon angst #tormented spirit #dd:dne

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queensunshinee · 1 day ago

Text

So sweet- part 2 || Patrick Zweig x reader, Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (mention of p in v sex, oral sex), mention of an eating disorder, family drama, death in the family, cheating. It's a mess.

Word Count: 7.9k

(Part 1)

So sweet- part 2:

Art leaned against the doorframe as he looked at you. Since your back was to him, you hadn't seen him yet, and he felt like he had the upper hand. As if he didn’t need to be defensive. As if he was still part of your life. Your hair looked shorter than the last time he saw you. But then again, the last time he saw you, you told him you never wanted to see him again, so maybe he didn’t remember all the details as well as he’d like to.

Maybe he felt that "never" was subjective. That everyone could choose what to take from the word "never." That a year and a half without speaking to you was enough "never" for him, and you'd be a hypocrite if you said it wasn’t for you too. "Are you going to stand there much longer, Donaldson?" Your voice sounded the same. He'd recently discovered he hated a lot of things, but at the top of his list were all the times you called him by his last name instead of his first.

"You really do have eyes in the back of your head," he tried to joke, but he didn’t hear you laugh, not even a chuckle. He hadn’t seen your face yet, but he could guess you weren’t even smiling. "Aren’t you supposed to be in Atlanta?" you asked. If he didn’t know you, he might have thought you were fine. That this was just polite conversation between two acquaintances who hadn’t seen each other in a while and ran into each other by chance. "My first match isn’t for another two days. I couldn’t miss the funeral," he said quietly. "I’m really sorry for your loss, you know that, right?" He took a few large steps and sat on the bed next to you, hoping you’d give him this moment. Hoping you wouldn’t be angry. Not when he was trying so hard.

"She was a mean drunk," you muttered. "Not a huge loss," you added, glancing at him for a second, allowing yourself to surrender to the moment. He recognized the piercing gaze. Maybe a wrinkle that wasn’t there before, but your eyes were the same eyes. You were the same girl he used to love. Used to. Used to. Used to. Before he went on his path in life and you on yours. Before he made a decision, and then you made a decision, and then both of you made decisions. Before words were said. Before he left and you stayed. Before he opened up and you shut down. Used to.

"You’re a grown man, you should know how to tie a tie by now, don’t you think?" you asked, probably trying to lighten the sadness that filled your childhood room, located right across from his childhood room. He wanted to thank you for that. But he never knew how to talk to you honestly. Why would he start now? "Tashi usually does it," he said quietly, and you stood in front of him, starting to adjust the damn tie. You had no idea what you were doing to his heartbeat. "I’m sorry about your grandmother. I was at your parents’ house afterward. I don’t know if they told you," you mumbled.

He was so angry at you for not coming to the funeral. Because by what right did you take his tragedy and make him consumed with thoughts of you? About your absence. About your hand that could’ve held his tightly, just like you did when he was eight, and Jameson died. Instead, he held Tashi’s hand. She didn’t squeeze. She let go after a few minutes. He was so angry that at his grandmother’s funeral, more than anything, he missed you. So now, a few minutes before heading to your mother’s funeral, he squeezed your hand for a moment while you adjusted his tie, looking at him with big eyes filling with tears you refused to let fall. "Better," you said.

He didn’t think it was better. He didn’t want to argue. He just nodded. . . . Patrick couldn’t focus. Every time he hit that stupid ball, he thought about the fight he had with his dad a week ago and the dumb argument he had with you before leaving for Atlanta. He hadn’t told you yet that his parents decided to cut him off from the trust fund. He hadn’t told you that he was basically broke. Sometimes Patrick thinks you’re the only person in the world who looks at him like he understands something about life. Like he’s capable of pulling off magic at any given moment. Sparkling eyes and a smile. He wonders when was the last time you looked at him like that. It’s been a few good months. He can’t deliver. Not the damn ball and not in real life.

He hesitates. Everything he does comes with a certain delay. He knows that at 24, he’s expected to understand who he is and what he wants from life. But what he wants from life doesn’t want him back, and that’s something he’s not willing to accept. He blames his parents for the fact that he’s too spoiled. That he doesn’t know when to stop. That he can’t let go of dreams. That he has to be the best, even though he’s drowning in his own mediocrity. He moves too fast between knowing how good he is at what he does and the harsh slap of reality that comes with each of his failures. Every tournament he loses in the second round, every person who was once in his life and doesn’t want him anymore. They found something better. Something more put-together.

He saw Tashi from a distance for the second time in the last two days. Always alone, Art wasn’t with her. He wondered why Art wasn’t here. He knew Art was competing. Everyone knew Art was competing. The rising star of American tennis. Motherfucker. His dad screamed it at him when he lost it a week ago— “I wish Art Donaldson were my son, maybe then I wouldn’t be so ashamed.” Patrick won’t tell anyone that it hurt. Not because he cares what his shitty dad thinks of him. Not because he cares that Art is succeeding on an international level, breaking into the world’s top ten. Fulfilling all the dreams they once dreamed together. Patrick cares because he knows that at any given moment, he could beat Art. He’s better than Art. So how is it that Art is ranked eighth and Patrick is a nobody? No one takes him into account.

“You planning to embarrass yourself in another tournament?” Tashi’s voice crept up behind him. “You know that if he competes against me, I’ll win, right?” he asked. Overconfident. Always overconfident. “I know you’re ranked 243rd, and he’s ranked 8th. It doesn’t matter who wins this, you’ll still be a loser, and he’ll still get a Nike campaign. They asked us about a winter collection.” She was trying to hurt him. He couldn’t understand why it was so important to her—to hurt him. But he thinks only two people can: you and Art. Tashi isn’t on that list. He doesn’t think Tashi comes close to being on that list.

He thinks Tashi is beautiful. Maybe the most beautiful woman he knows. Maybe you’re the most beautiful woman he knows. He doesn’t really know- it’s blurry and messy. But hearing you moan or say his name softly, sweetly, is the most beautiful thing he knows. So maybe it’s the same thing. Maybe he measures beauty differently than he did four years ago. “Sounds good. I promise to buy a jacket with his name on it. Do you need anything, Tashi?” he tried to end the conversation. He didn’t want her to see the pathetic training session he was having with himself against a wall. “I don’t know, maybe to ask why you’re here?” She shrugged like it was obvious. Like she cared about the useless existence of Patrick Zweig. Like he mattered. “I’m competing, just like Art-” he started, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, but Art’s not here. How is it that you are?” she cut off the monologue he was about to throw at her. “I don’t know why Art isn’t here, Tashi.” If it were possible, his eyes would roll so far back into his skull they’d get stuck there. “Because he’s at a funeral, obviously. She’s your girlfriend last time I checked- how are you not there?” The furrow of her brows showed she was genuinely confused. But now he stood in front of her, terrified too. Whose funeral? Who the fuck died? “What are you talking about?” he muttered, feeling his heart pound. Every muscle in his body tensed. “(Y/N)’s mom passed away, Patrick. How am I the first one telling you this?” She doesn’t understand. But he does. And right now he hates Tashi. And Art, who’s with you. And himself- mostly himself- because after four years, he’s still a selfish bastard who only cares about himself. . . . You’re not crying, and you suspect it bothers your father. He looks at you strangely. As if you’re making things difficult. Because this is an event. A funeral is an event, and you need to behave the way you're expected to behave. You just can’t seem to do it. Because you don’t think you have a warm spot in your heart for the woman you called Mom for the pathetic 24 years of your existence. To anyone else, it would sound sad. Pathetic. You don’t say it out loud very often. You don’t want to make things harder for anyone. You don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. You considered cutting an onion before you left, just to save yourself from the weird looks from the extended family you haven’t seen in years, but Art fucking Donaldson hasn’t left you alone since the second he heard she kicked the bucket.

His hand held yours like his life depended on it. Maybe yours. Someone’s life depended on it. Definitely not your mother’s. She’s dead. You wonder if the need for sacrifice died with her. You wonder if your constant need to make everyone feel comfortable all the time died with her too. It’s exhausting. You wish you could be less like that. Your hand is sweating into his. He probably thinks it’s disgusting. He probably doesn’t like it. You miss the time when your whole world was making sure Art Donaldson was comfortable. His parents hugged you, and you’re pretty sure his mom left lipstick on you. He’s been staring at you for an hour straight. Maybe two. Maybe your whole life. You can’t know; it’s an emotional day.

You try to move your hand away from his; there’s no way this is comfortable for him. He grips harder. Doesn’t let go. Doesn’t leave you alone. Your father says the Kaddish, everyone responds "Amen" and cries. You don’t. Maybe you really are crazy, like she hinted at a few times when she got drunk and called you at an inappropriate hour. Maybe you really are the reason for every problem she ever had. Maybe you didn’t sacrifice enough. Maybe you didn’t love enough.

Maybe you just don’t know how to love, and then it makes sense that you don’t deserve to be loved. Not really. Not unconditionally. Not like your father loved your mother. Not like Art loves Tashi. Not like Patrick loved Tashi. Not like Patrick hated you. Maybe he still does- sometimes you’re not sure. Patrick isn’t here. Art’s hand keeps holding you both steady. You finally cry.

When you walk into the house, your extended family is already there. Uncles, cousins- you think you saw the grandfather of someone your father goes to synagogue with. All you wanted was to sit quietly in your room for a second. Take off the heels and the damn dress. You felt the thong digging into your ass. That’s what happens when you let a dead woman dictate what you'll wear to her funeral. A woman who had conditions for her own funeral. Who told you what dress to wear. What underwear to put on. Sometimes you wonder how many years ahead you’ll keep dragging her advice, her judgmental looks. The tongue clicks. The general dissatisfaction with the world, wrapped in fake smiles. Maybe that’s where you learned to fake so well. To fake who you are down to your core. To fake and fake until you don’t know what you want or from whom.

“You disappeared. I figured you’d be here.” Art walks into your childhood room like it’s his. Like he always did. “You’re still here?” you mutter, and he hands you a plate of food he picked up from downstairs. “Where else would I be?” he sighs. As if that’s the only answer that makes sense to him. As if you two were in touch. As if you know anything about his fancy life or he knows anything about your painfully mediocre one. “In Atlanta,” you answer and place the plate on the nightstand beside you. “When’s your flight?” you ask, not looking at him as he sits next to you on the bed like he did before the funeral.

“I can stay-” he starts quietly. You know he’s looking at you, almost begging you to see that he means it. "Ridiculous,” you mumble to yourself, but you know he hears. “When’s your flight, Art?” you ask, your voice steadier, looking at him with an almost hollow expression. One that doesn’t show any emotion or maybe shows all emotions at once. A look that scared him. A look that worried you. A look you’ll think about a month from now. You’ll sit at home, writing the structure for one of your classes, and you’ll think about Art Donaldson and the empty look you gave him when your mother died. Embarrassing. Everything is so fucking embarrassing.

“Tonight,” he sums up. You glance at your phone’s clock. Sixteen missed calls from Patrick. Instinct says to call him. But it’s 6 p.m., and his first match is at 8 in the morning. “Don’t you need to pack?” He rolls his eyes, ignoring your attempt to dismiss him. “What are you doing?” he asks quietly. “Excuse me?” you snap back, not understanding the direction of the conversation. “Now. In general. What are you doing?” His gaze surrounds you from every direction. You can’t look anywhere that isn’t Art Donaldson. He reflects off the damn mirrors in this room. “Trying to sit quietly in my room, clearly,” you reply stiffly.

You remember how all your conversations used to be warm. Soft. You’d talk about dreams. About books you’d write. About tournaments he’d win. You’d kiss. He’d touch you. You’d touch him. There was curiosity. There was love. Or at least that thing you’ve spent years believing was love. The thing where you become exactly what he wants and needs and disappear when he needs something else, something better. That was the unwritten contract between you. Lately, you’ve been thinking that’s the unwritten contract between you and everyone you know. A depressing thought. You try not to dwell on it too much. On the way you please people in your suffering. Please in deprivation. Please to the point of tears, and more tears, and more tears. You try not to think about all the dreams you had when Art Donaldson -maybe- loved you. You try not to think about the joy of life. About how much you loved seeing him happy, how much you loved making him happy. How much you loved being responsible for his happiness. "Why isn’t Patrick here?" He quietly asked what he really wanted to know. He wanted to understand if you’d broken up. If you were alone. If he could laugh and say he told you so. That he told you; you had no business being with Patrick Zweig. "Because he has a match tomorrow at 8 a.m., and he trained too hard to miss it," you said it coolly, without breaking eye contact. As if it made perfect sense that you hadn’t told your boyfriend, the person who was supposed to be your confidant, that your mother had died. "He didn’t want to come?" Art continued, confused. Ice. That look again. The immediate shift in his mood confuses you, but it doesn’t throw you off balance. You know him. For the past four years, every time he’s seen you, all he’s tried to do is confuse you, to knock you off balance. It never works, at least not in his eyes.

"Hedoesn’tknow," you mumbled the words as if they were one. Quietly, knowing that what you’d done didn’t make sense. Wasn’t reasonable. Wasn’t acceptable. Didn’t fit into the unspoken rules of a relationship. "You’re an idiot." He stood up and started pacing back and forth. "A fucking moron, really." He was angry, as if he was the one who hadn’t been told your mother had died. If it were up to you, he wouldn’t have known either, but his mother told him. Whatever. "I’ll tell him when he gets back from the tournament, it’s not a big deal," you said and shrugged. Art stopped and looked at you like you’d just fallen from the moon. Like you were some natural phenomena. "If you did that to me, I’d kill you. If you thought some shitty tennis tournament in shitty Atlanta was more important to me than you, I’d murder you and then die myself. I don’t like what you have with Zweig, God knows I hate it, but how could you not tell him? Do you even understand the concept of a relationship?" He let out this Shakespearean monologue while looking at you with a half-pitying, half-angry expression. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he thought you were Tashi.

"Art, I’m not your problem. Do you remember that?" You didn’t know what else to say, so you said the only thing you knew for sure in a defeated voice. Art Donaldson was not a part of your life. "You’ll always be my problem. You should know that by now," he said, half despairing at himself. As if wondering how you both got here. As if wondering if there was anywhere else you could be. . . . Patrick was beyond frustrated. He won his first match after two and a half hours, barely. It didn’t come easy. All he could think about was how nothing came easy for him anymore, and how everything used to be so easy.

The thought that you didn’t tell him your mother had died, and then didn’t answer his calls either, hovered over his head like a rain cloud focused solely on him. He didn’t know how to approach it. He knew why you didn’t tell him- because unlike what Art thought, unlike what your dead mother thought, he knew you. He knew how you thought. He understood the mechanics behind your strange decisions. He hated that he had become someone you had to overthink things for.

That afternoon, he went to one of the courts and caught Tashi and Art’s practice. They both saw him sit down. He thinks it made Art play better. He wondered if Art imagined his face when he hit the ball. He thinks he does. Because when Tashi checkmated his relationship with Art, Patrick wrapped his life around yours as if that was how it was always meant to be, while everyone involved knew it wasn’t. While everyone involved knew that you had embroidered Art’s name on bags from the moment you learned how to stitch. While everyone knew that Art Donaldson didn’t know how to exist in the world without you.

So, Patrick took you for himself. Most of the time, he didn’t think of it as something technical, as a game he was playing against Art. Most of the time, he looked at you, really looked at you. Most of the time, he tried to make you laugh and understand the world through your own eyes. Most of the time, he tried to protect you from complex emotions you couldn’t express, from hunger. He tried to protect you from yourself, the way you protect some helpless creature. In some way, you were. In his eyes, you were helpless.

When you first started sleeping together, Patrick treated you with kid gloves, in a way he had never treated anyone before. Like you were porcelain. Like you could shatter and crumble in his hands at any moment. You had gestures and habits, ones you thought no one noticed. But he always saw. You tried to please everyone all the time. You switched from a smile to a sad look in a second, for the sake of the feelings of whoever was in front of you, for the sake of what you thought they wanted from you.

But Patrick didn’t want anything from you. He wanted to give you all the orgasms that you missed and for you to eat at least three meals a day. Some days, he didn’t know how to make you do it. Some days, he raised his voice. When he was desperate, he cried. When he was really desperate, he asked you to eat for him, so that he would be happy. That was the easy way, it always worked. He exploited a destructive mechanism someone had embedded in you (he suspects your dead mother) and used it to get you to do something he thought would be good for you. He wanted to throw up.

Art was playing well. He was playing against Tashi in front of him, and he was playing well. Too well. Patrick no longer thinks he can beat him. Not something he would ever say out loud. He wanted to ask him how you were. He didn’t want to admit that you hadn’t answered his million calls. He didn’t want to admit that he was a loser who didn’t know where his life was going. Not when Art had been with you at the fucking funeral of your awful mother. He hated that woman with everything he had. More than he hated his own father, and that had to be some kind of record. Art looked at him for a moment. The moment passed. Patrick thinks Art won. He’s not sure. . . . Patrick finds Tashi alone in the evening. Completely alone in the middle of the lobby restaurant. She suddenly looks small and fragile to him, holding a drink he can guess is whiskey or cognac or whatever it is that Tashi Duncan drinks these days. He doesn’t know anything about her anymore. Only that a few years ago, he thought he loved her, and in return, she took his best friend away from him.

When he stands in front of her, he is like a streetlight- impossible to ignore. It dawns on him, belatedly, that he is wearing her shirt. She must think he’s pathetic. He feels pathetic. He doesn’t think he cares about being pathetic in front of her. Because he sees her for what she is right now, and she is miserable. She doesn’t have much in life. She clings to what Art has. Which is fucked up on so many levels, but that’s reality. They both cling to things they shouldn’t be clinging to, and his eyes wander to her ring. Massive. Flashy. A bit like her, like the woman she tries to be when she’s not half-drunk and pathetic in front of him.

He places his hand over hers just as she’s about to take a sip of her drink, stopping her. He doesn’t know what he wants. Not from her, not from himself, but his lips find hers within seconds, and she doesn’t resist. He knew she wouldn’t resist- he saw it on her face. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Maybe more. And what a thought that is- that Tashi Duncan wants Patrick Zweig more.

They exit through the back door of the restaurant, go up to his room. Naturally. As if more than four years haven’t passed since the last time he was with Tashi. He wishes he knew what he was doing; it would make this easier. But it’s not particularly difficult, either- otherwise, he wouldn’t be pressing Tashi against the wall. Otherwise, his lips wouldn’t be kissing every inch of her body he can reach.

Hunger. Patrick feels hunger. It’s the only emotion coursing through him as he looks at her. He thinks he wants to hurt Art. He thinks about how Art was there for you at your mother’s funeral, and that was supposed to be his role, but you didn’t call him. So he strips Tashi of her shirt. Only to discover she isn’t wearing a bra. He compares her to you every few seconds. You never go without a bra. He can barely convince you to just be at home, without clothes, without defenses. Just be. He doesn’t think you’re capable of that. He doesn’t think you know how to feel at ease. That worries him more than he’s willing to admit.

“You’re thinking about her?” Tashi’s voice is almost angry as she kisses his neck. “No.” A lie. A complete lie. He can only think about you. He realized that a few years ago and stopped fighting it. You and tennis, as if that’s all there is in the world. What else even exists? What else even matters? “You’re a terrible liar,” she mutters against him, and somehow, the ugly shirt he’s pretty sure was Tashi’s -he doesn’t even know why he wore it- ends up on the floor. ‘You’re not thinking about Art?’ he should have asked, but he’s not here to ask questions. He’s here because he’s angry. At Art, at you, at Tashi for telling him, at the world. So he’s here. And they’re both shedding more pieces of their clothing and maybe their souls, because what they’re doing now has no way back. No forgiveness. They are bad people. Patrick knows it. Tashi knows it.

And after he wrings a heavy moan from her, one that follows an orgasm, she quietly tells him she thinks Art loves you. Patrick stares at the gaudy ring stuck on her finger, the ring that, in another universe, Art would have placed on yours. “Why do you think that?” Patrick asks softly, because what else is left to do? “I didn’t want him to go to the funeral. I wanted him to stay and train, but he went anyway,” she mumbles. Patrick says nothing, just nods. He would have done the exact same thing, and that’s why you didn’t call him. He would have come. Despite the dreams. Despite the tennis. Despite everything.

And Patrick remembers all the times Art called you sweet. All the times Art never wanted to tell him anything about what happened between you two. All the times Art didn’t want to talk about you. And it wasn’t because it wasn’t good. It wasn’t because other girls were better. It was because there was depth Patrick can only put his finger on now. So much happened beneath the surface- so much that Art had no words to describe it. So much that Art drowned in his own emotions. Repressed them and kept them bottled up until he found something shiny to bury his feelings in. Until he found Tashi.

And Tashi is safe. With Tashi, you can’t get lost. With Tashi, there’s a plan. With you, he just has to be himself. He doesn’t know how to be anything else. And that’s terrifying.

For the first time, Patrick understands Art in absolute terms. He lies in a hotel room, stroking the hair of a woman who isn’t you, and understands everything there is to understand about life. Mainly, he understands again- that you are so fucking sweet. And that there’s no way he can win. . . .

You're going over tomorrow’s lesson when you hear the door open. Without turning around, you already know it’s Patrick. Who else could it be? His scrutinizing gaze doesn’t waver from you, even when he says nothing. “How was it?” You find yourself breaking the silence, lifting your head toward him with a smile. He doesn’t smile back. He looks exhausted. The message Art sent you lingers in the back of your mind; He’s cheating on you. -Art Donaldson- Art has his reasons to make something like this up, but you doubt he’d be cruel enough to lie about it. Not while you’re mourning your horrible mother. No matter how angry he is at you. No matter how angry he is at Patrick. You don’t think Art is capable of that. You want to believe he isn’t capable of that. Then again, you also want so badly to believe Patrick wouldn’t do it. That Patrick wouldn’t cheat on you. That he wouldn’t find someone prettier, better, more cheerful and do all the things with her that he probably can’t do with you. You don’t want to think about the possibility that you haven’t sacrificed enough. That you didn’t try as hard as you were taught to. Your fault, your fault, your fault. You don’t want to believe it’s your fault. That another love will slip through your fingers, as if you’re trying to hold water. So, you choose to say nothing, because even if it’s true, even if he was with someone else, he came home. And home isn’t big, to say the least, not grand, not dazzling. But he came back. He’s right in front of you. You’re not alone. He knows you. He knows such ugly parts of you that sometimes you’re scared to acknowledge they even exist. He knows what you refuse to recognize in yourself, and sometimes he reminds you that you deserve more than you think. Which is a bizarre thought in itself. But you let him think it, you let him believe it enough for him to believe it for the both of you. “I lost in the third round. To Peter Michelson,” he says shortly, and you nod. “No choice but to make a voodoo doll with Peter Michelson’s face,” you try to joke. He usually laughs. At least smiles. He does neither. He just stands there like a block of wood, with the same expression. “I’m sorry you lost. I wish I’d been there,” you mumble, not knowing what else to say. “What about you? Anything special happen this week?” he asks, his gaze never leaving you.

Now you could tell him your mother died, but there’s no way to say it without it turning into a fight about the fact that you didn’t tell him the moment you found out. “No, nothing special, you know. My routine is boring.” You shrug and shift your focus back to the lesson you’re supposed to teach tomorrow. The Great Gatsby. A shitty book. “Nothing special at all?” he presses. “If you count the fact that Mr. Grace forgot to put in his dentures on Monday -again- and I had to sub for his class, then no.” It’s a half-lie because the thing with Mr. Grace and his dentures did happen, just not this week. Most of this week, you were at your parents’ house, helping your father deal with shiva and all the people who came by. He was completely heartbroken.

You see Patrick shake his head slightly and close his eyes. You know this is something he does when he’s trying to restrain himself. When he doesn’t want to lash out. When something is bothering him, and he doesn’t want it to turn into the biggest fight in the world. He has a bad history with fights that spiral out of control. “No one was born? No relatives died? I don’t know, maybe the woman who gave birth to you?” he says, his piercing gaze back on you. “Shit,” you mumble. Because what else is there to say in this situation? “Yeah, shit,” he stays exactly where he is, making you feel like a child being scolded. Like you dropped a lollipop and won’t be getting a new one.

“I’m sorry-” you start. “My mom isn’t dead; your mom is dead. I think I’m the one who’s sorry.” Patrick hated when you apologized. He said it was irrational with you. That you apologized more than was normal and more than people around you deserved. “Patrick,” you sigh, scrunching your nose as you try to think of a good way to explain it. “I really need to understand this, (Y/N). When were you planning on telling me your living mother was no longer alive? Another month? Two months? Two years? What was the timeline in that head of yours?” His words drip with sarcasm, like the way he used to talk to you before you became you and Patrick. Before you learned to love who he was and before he started treating you like you weren’t the worst person in the world.

“I didn’t want you to withdraw from Atlanta. You trained for it so hard.” You sigh again, quietly. This time, you’re the one closing your eyes, not wanting to look at him- and in doing so, you miss the fact that he moves toward you in giant strides. “I wish you’d told me, Little Dove. I wish I’d been with you instead of being there.” His hands cup your face as he crouches in front of you, looking up to catch your eyes. “I’m sor-” You stop yourself mid-sentence when you see his displeased expression. “How do you feel?” he asks, and you shrug in response. Because what you feel isn’t something you can say out loud, not even to Patrick. It’s not okay to feel relieved. A lot of sadness, of course. But also, relief.

“Tell me,” he insists. He has a habit of knowing the things you don’t want to say. He can look at your face and catch the slight twitch of your left eyebrow to understand what you’re feeling. To see what you try so hard to hide. You can’t beat him at this. You can’t lie to him, not too much. Not about your feelings. Not when he spent years of his life learning what to hate about you, and then a few more years learning to love it. “She wasn’t the nicest woman in the world,” you murmur quietly, like you’re confessing the most forbidden secret. Like it’s a secret that could start a world war. Like Patrick would tell someone.

“She didn’t like me.” Patrick lets out a dry chuckle, his eyes glassy as if he’s remembering something. “She used to call me Art all the time and then correct herself, like it was an accident, but she did it on purpose. So I’d know she wanted me to be Art.” His jaw tightens slightly. You can see the anger and frustration behind the fake lightness in his tone. “I’m sorry,” you say because you don’t know what else to say, and he sighs. His large hands wrap around you in an almost crushing hug. Almost making it hard to breathe.

But that’s how Patrick is. Everything he feels is out in the open. Everything he thinks, he says. Everything he wants, he does. And most of the time, he wants to be present in your life, which is ridiculous because there is no one more present in your life than him. He still acts like he needs to prove something to you. “I wish you’d let me take care of you, Little Dove. It would be easier.” He whispers into your hair, not letting go for a second. You can almost feel him thinking, almost see him guessing what might help you. “I know you care about me,” you say, shifting slightly to look at him, to show him that he doesn’t need to prove anything. That you’re okay.

“Did you eat?” he suddenly asks, stepping back slightly, scanning you, then moving toward the half-empty fridge. “What did you eat?” he follows up. “I don’t know, Patrick. I don’t keep a journal,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t give me that bullshit. What did you eat, (Y/N)?” He doesn’t let up. “A sandwich,” you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Since this morning?” His eyes stay locked on you. “Patrick, my mother just died. Can we not focus on what I eat for one second? It’s exhausting,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms, turning your face to the side as he steps toward you and nods. . . . "What do you want to focus on?" he asked. Patrick felt guilty. He looked at you and saw nothing but the fact that just a few days ago, he had been with Tashi. While you were mourning your unbearable mother, he was busy fucking Tashi in a fancy hotel room, at a tournament he lost and that Art Donaldson would probably win. "You," your voice was small as you looked at him, almost pleading for a break from the interrogation and the anger. He hated when you made him the center of your focus, when you tried to do what you thought he wanted you to do. So he nodded and placed a small kiss on the crown of your head, knowing exactly what he needed to do.

Patrick felt like a man on a mission as he dropped to his knees in front of you. "Pat-" you tried to protest, to tell him he didn’t have to. You always tried. As if going down on you was a burden to him, as if all it would take for him to spend a lifetime just like this was for you to fucking ask. "Baby, can you take these off for me?" It was a question, but there was no question mark at the end. Not in that tone. Not when he was looking up at you like that, completely in control of the situation.

So you slid your pants down slowly, trying to hold on to the last bit of control slipping away with every second he stared at you like that. He took care of your underwear himself. Leaving you bare in front of him. "Fuck, Pat," you mumbled, closing your eyes for a moment, leaning back against the wall, making him look up at you one last time with a smirk stretched across his face. And then he got to work.

His lips explored you like you were his source of oxygen. Like his natural place was buried under you, his mouth inside you. "Baby, I’d eat you for the rest of my life. Every day. Every fucking day." His grip on your thigh was ruthless. Patrick felt like he was holding on for dear life, like this was all there was left to do. Like it was all he knew. "Sweet fucking pussy," he kept mumbling into you, until his face was coated with his own spit and your slick. He was ready to take it all, everything you gave him. In these moments, everything that was yours became his, and the little that was his became yours.

So he was milking it. He licked your clit in slow, agonizing strokes- for both of you. He took his time. The euphoria would come, but he was going to enjoy it until it did. Your small whimpers made him growl directly into you. "Patrick, Patrick, Patrick," like a prayer. He felt it. He felt divinity in all of it. He sped up and slowed down and sped up and slowed down. Merciless to the near-sobs escaping from you. "You're so sweet, baby. Do you want to come?" And he wasn’t asking if you wanted to come for him, because he wanted you to come for yourself. Because he wanted you to always, always come for yourself. He wanted to be a vessel. He wanted to erase all the stupid patterns in your head and make sure every orgasm you had was yours and for you. "Patrick." He thought that was the only thing you were capable of saying coherently, and he was fine with that. He was selfish enough to be satisfied if his name was the only word you could say forever.

And when you came with a moan he had learned to recognize and nearly worship, he told you how good you were. How rare you were. That he was yours and that he would always take care of you. He looked up at you from below, saw the tears slipping down your face, and pressed another kiss to your thigh. One that emphasized the word always. Because he didn’t think he could ever let this go. He was too selfish to ever let this go. . . . Art peeked through the door of the room every few seconds, searching for you among the guests. At this point, he didn’t even bother lying to himself about it. Because he didn’t know what else was left for him besides admitting the truth to himself- things he was never able to admit before. Lately, he’d been thinking a lot about the nights he used to lay beside you. When you didn’t even fuck. When you just lay in that rickety twin bed in his dorm room. He was willing to take that. He was willing not to fuck you if it meant you’d hold him again. More than that, he was willing not to fuck anyone ever again. But you were too sweet, you wouldn’t let him go through life without sex. The thought made him chuckle for a second. But he was nervous. So fucking nervous.

He was about to marry Tashi, and she didn’t cross his mind even once. He accidentally saw her dress, even though he told her that he hadn’t really noticed it was there. He knew she would be a stunning bride. That months from now, people would still be talking about Tashi Duncan in a wedding dress. He knew people would envy him, he knew everything. His mind knew everything.

But all he could think about was what kind of wedding dress you would have chosen. He was almost sure it would be something less extravagant; you’d try to draw as little attention as possible. But the Art he was today wouldn’t have let you. He would’ve told you that you deserved all the attention the universe had to offer. That you deserved to be seen. He hated himself for how long it had taken him to realize that. Only when you truly weren’t there. Only when you belonged to someone else. Only when you chose Patrick Zweig of all people.

Patrick Zweig, who hated you with every fiber of his being. Patrick Zweig, who Art was almost certain had cheated on you with Tashi. It should have hurt him much more than it did. But all he cared about was figuring out if this would be the thing that made you get up and leave. You had to know you deserved better. That if not him- if not Art, the guy you both knew you loved with all your heart- then at least someone who didn’t want anyone else. That was the bare minimum you deserved. For years, he’d wondered if he had something to do with how little you thought you deserved, with how low your standards were.

He convinced his mother- who probably loved you even more than he did- to take upon herself convincing you to come to his wedding. Which was almost sadistic of him. Maybe masochistic. Maybe both. But he had to see you. He hadn’t seen you since your mother’s funeral. Sometimes he dreamed about that day and how his hand held yours, he wanted it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to die if it meant he could hold you like that again. If it gave him an excuse.

He noticed that everything about you required an excuse. It hadn’t been like that when you were his. Except you were never really his. He didn’t even understand why it had been so complicated- why you hadn’t told him that’s what you wanted (though he could have guessed). And more than anything, he didn’t understand why he hadn’t known what he wanted. Why it hadn’t been clear to him that you were his person. That you knew the deepest parts of him.

He saw you walk in and texted you, almost begging you to come to the room where he was. You could tell him to go to hell, but that wasn’t your style. No, you were sweet. So sweet that all you did was knock on the door and push it open. Looking at him while he already had his eyes on your little black dress. While he was already studying the red nail polish. While he was already focusing on the lipstick he so badly wanted to wipe off of you.

“Your mother asked me to prepare a speech. Was that your idea?” you asked. There was no coldness in your voice, which made him happy. You stepped closer and started fixing his tie. He wanted to close his eyes, but at the same time, he wanted to see you. To remember you like this; in a little black dress, in heels, standing in front of him, helping him with his tie. “What can I say? You’re my best friend,” he said. And it wasn’t a lie, just as much as it wasn’t the truth. “That’s really sad, Art,” you said, probably referring to the last four years you spent apart. “Are you saying you have a better friend than me?” he asked, hoping you’d deny it because a yes might make him break down crying.

“It’s a mediocre speech. I didn’t know what to say at your wedding,” you sighed, confessing a secret. “Saying you don’t want me to get married would’ve been a good start,” he said, taking a risk. Because he calculated the timing, and you were late, so he had a very short window for this risk. “Don’t be ridicul—” you started, quietly. “If you tell me not to do this, I won’t get married. Tell me not to do it. Tell me it’ll be okay. That we’ll be okay,” he whispered. Not looking away from you.

The silence in the room was deafening, and the chuckle that escaped him was bitter. Fake. He felt pathetic and small and miserable, and maybe he was all those things because he never knew what he wanted in time. “I’m sorry,” you murmured. Not knowing what else to add, because what was left to add? He could see the wetness in your eyes. He knew how unfair he was being. “I’m sorry,” he echoed. He didn’t think he had ever told you that before, but he really, truly was. “Did you write something good about me?” he added. “That you’re my best friend. And that my soul will always love yours,” you said, letting a single tear fall as his rough hand wiped it away with whatever gentleness was still left in him.

It was a nice speech. Everyone applauded. Art cried. . . .

Here we are- the second part of So Sweet! Hope it turned out good enough. Thanks for stopping by and reading what I write, it means a lot. Let me know what you think. Love you guys, stay sweet! 💕

#art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #challengers fic #challengers #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #so sweet

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writing-mlm · 2 days ago

Note

hi !! saw you write for criminal minds and would love to see something with spencer reid !! there aren’t enough male reader fics for him out there. personally i’m a sucker for reader being used as bait for an unsub with spencer getting jealous and taking care of reader afterwards if they get hurt. but no worries if you don’t want to write that specific scenario, i would just love to see any spencer content at all lol. i love your writing and hope you’re having a great day !!!

The stress of a married man

Summary: Spencer doesn’t like the fact that his husband is out there; his husband doesn’t like the fact that Spencer’s worrying. Pairing: Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Male!Reader wc: 2.4k Tags/warnings: reader used as bait, blood, attempted drugging, kidnapping a/n: while what im referring to won’t be a part 2, just now I wrote 2 separate fics for this request. i’ll try and push it out before next week and it’ll be around 20k words… and a marvel crossover…

Spencer didn’t want this. It’s stupid. It’s beyond stupid, it’s dangerous. He doesn’t care that there’s logic behind it— why should he? Not when you’re putting yourself in danger just to speed up a case, not when there are other solutions.

He twists the cap of the marker as he strains, trying to think of said solutions. None are coming to his head; none that are useful anyway. He gnaws at the inside of his cheek when his eyes dart over to you; sitting in a chair getting your appearance tweaked to fit the victim pool more. A fake mole under your eye, changing your eyebrows a little bit. You’re wearing clothes they’d found in a nearby Ross, stuff that he knows you’re itchy in because they haven’t been washed yet.

Your feet are pushed into shoes a size too small, he can tell because you’re sitting without putting pressure on them and they’re laced too loose. If you run with them they’ll go flying. Maybe that’s for the better, he quickly decides.

He doesn’t see the irony in his worry. The same Spencer who walked into a train and took off his bulletproof vest when the UnSub had a loaded gun? The same Spencer who made Hotch kick the snot out of him? Caught himself on fire and in the middle of an explosion? Stab himself and frame the other guy in prison— that Spencer Reid? Yes. Because he’s him and you’re you.

First name Spencer, middle name Risk himself for everyone else, last name Reid didn’t want you to hurt. He didn’t want you tossed in the back of some guy's van and hauled to wherever. He didn’t want you to experience the torture the other victims are going through firsthand. He just didn’t.

But you’re smiling with Tara, agreeing to let Luke slip a tracker into the thrifted bracelet you planned on keeping because it looked nice. You’re listening to Emily’s specific instructions carefully, you’re understanding the dangers that you’re about to face.

And dammit you’re still agreeing to go through with it.

“Be careful,” He’s almost pleading— no, he is pleading. He absolutely cannot keep himself composed like the others are. He can’t.

“I’ll be alive,” You tell him, messing with the clunky jacket that fits the same way a child wearing their dad's jacket fits. Lightly, you punch his shoulder. “Don’t go worrying about me; this is my specialty, Walter.” He nods, tucking his hair behind his ear because yes, it is. You had transferred from the Hostage Rescue Team after getting your degree.

He doesn’t even care that you’re using his middle name. He doesn’t catch it, in fact. He just caught that you said you’d be alive when he asked you to be careful.

“Just…” He closes his eyes, opening them when he pictures the worst. You’re staring at him from behind a paper cup of water, eyebrows raised because you’ve never seen him so worked up. So nervous before; it’s stressing you out.

“I’ll come back, man. Don’t sweat it, please. You’re making me nervous,” Shit, he blinks an apology and wrings his hands. He doesn’t want to throw you off your game any more than he already has and backs off.

You watch as he walks away, heading back to his drawing board. He messes with the marker cap again, this time chewing on it. It’s a set he’d gotten that day, only used by him, so he’s not worried about germs or anything of the sort. Meanwhile, you move over to JJ to go over the plan seeing as she’s going to be the bartender.

The plan is simple. You’re going to hang out at a local bar, the one flying the highest American flag and that has some stupidly adorable couple trivia night going on but you aren’t going to play. You’re going to sit at the bar, rolling your eyes when someone gets an answer wrong because it was so obvious even a moron could get it right. You’re going to nurse a stein of sparkling apple juice dyed to look like beer. And you’re going to get the attention of the man killing people.

Currently, you’re still on the eye-rolling part. The questions are hard, you have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about but you can hear Spencer through your earpiece saying the answers without catching himself.

A guy approaches you as you’re taking another sip of your drink. A white man, probably in his fifties to sixties, dressed as if he was a professor, and on the shorter side. So far, this is the guy. You smile as he takes the newly vacant seat next to you, his eyes immediately traveling to the jacket around your chair.

“Can you believe they don’t know the fifty-six element?” He huffs after no one has gotten the answer right and the announcer presses the loud buzzer.

“Barium,” Spencer immediately tells you.

“I know,” You scoff. “Who doesn’t know what barium is?” The man looks delighted by your answer and orders a beer. He doesn’t care what brand, just says beer and drums his fingers on the wood until JJ brings him one. He thanks her without any condensation, no sweetheart, or even a lingering look. He says a simple thank you, miss. And hands JJ a crisp ten-dollar bill.

“The youth these days,” He shakes his head as half of the trivia goers don’t get the answer to who made the laws of motion right. “They’re spending too much time learning nonessential things like provocative dancing and texting abbreviations.”

“You’re so right, sir,” You sigh. “I’m glad my grandparents raised me better.”

“Oh, please,” He laughs, holding his chest. “Call me Vince. I’m sorry for forgetting my manners.”

“It’s quite fine,” You smile. “I’m Kyle.”

“Well, Kyle,” He smiles back. This is the part where he’ll have you look away and he’ll slip something into your drink. You’ll look back and he’ll cheer for something. It’ll be strong based on the videos, you’ll be stumbling within three minutes. But even before that, he’ll talk you into leaving the bar so no one can notice. “Whaddya say about a game of pool?” He points to the pool table behind you.

You look, spotting Luke and Emily pretending to pay attention to a group of frat guys playing a game. Spencer tells you that he’s slipped the pill inside and you turn back to Vince.

“It seems crowded,” You shake your head.

“Well, cheers to two smart guys left in a modern age of idiots?” He holds up his beer and you laugh, nodding with your bottle. The drinks and you pretend to drink it. You feel it on your upper lip, it’s fizzy and you swallow your spit to make it seem real. He watches until you set it down and runs his fingers over your ear.

“How about some fresh air?” Pretending to be bashful, you get up and follow him out. He’s not aware that Luke and Emily follow, too.

Spencer watches from the van's cameras as you walk out of the bar. Vince has his hand on your waist and he’s talking about things so well it’s almost convincing. But he’s saying surface-level facts as if he’s only read the summary but not the full text. He doesn’t like how Vince speaks into your neck and how his eyes seem to gleam when you start to pretend to stumble.

You prepare yourself as you hear the red car. Because once you do, he charges you into the side and it’s enough to send someone who’d been drugged to the ground. So, you lay next to the car, pretending to fall in and out as he opens the trunk. You hear the duck tape being pulled and he steps back into your view.

“All you youth are still driven by lust,” He says, holding your face and then applies enough to cover your mouth. He puts you on your stomach and your arms strain as he ties your hands behind you. Honestly, you’re glad he’s counting you as a youth. You know the youth surely doesn’t because boy, you’ve stopped getting carded at bars years ago. Your ankles are the next things he tapes before you’re tossed into the trunk.

Your head hits a pipe and you groan as he slams the door closed. Rolling onto your side, you feel the car start and work on finding the knife in your pocket. The blade flicks up— it had been pinned to your pants just for this— and you work on cutting your way out. He hadn’t done a lot of layers, just three so you’re out of it quick enough.

His car stops, at a red light, because the car is still buzzing and he’s still listening to music that hasn’t been on the radio since there was a transatlantic accent. You take the time to rub your forehead before the car lurches forward. Working on the ankle tape, you hear the line between you and the others cut. You’ve officially entered the dead zone. They’ll track you using the bracelet from here on out.

—

It’s nearly an hour before the car stops. It’s been twenty since Spencer joined Luke in the SUV. Being trailed by local PD and two ambulances with their lights off, he messes with the FBI windbreaker jacket folded on his lap. It’s yours, it’s tailored to your arms and the collar is worn from where you continued to flip it up and down. You’ll probably want it, it’s chilly out and only getting colder.

He hopes you’re only cold because of the weather.

“It’s up ahead,” Luke warns before he parks the car. They can’t risk the UnSub hearing the cars so they’ll have to walk the rest of the way. He nods, fixing his gun as they climb out. The others are close behind and separate. JJ and Rossi go left, Emily and Tara go right, while he and Luke go straight.

The driveway, if you could call it that, to the barn, is nothing more than grass that’s been driven over so many times it doesn’t grow straight anymore. They’re sickly shades of green compared to the bright green elsewhere. He looks up, seeing the car you’d gotten tossed into, and adjusts his grip on his gun. His heart hammers, pleading that you’re okay.

A barn comes into view, the lights are on and Spencer shudders. There’s the smell of pigs nearby that makes his stomach twist before he changes his focus. The doors are ajar— some blood is on the handle. He doesn’t touch it, but it’s wet. He sees the light reflecting on it. Luke gives him a look, holds up three fingers and Spencer nods.

He gets to two before the door gets thrown open.

They jump back but it’s only you. You’re standing tall, one hand on the doorframe and the other gripping your pocket knife. His shoulders sag at the sight of you alive and able to stand before he looks at your face.

“You’re bleeding,” Spencer immediately has you in his grip, wiping the blood from your nose and lip with his shirt. It’s a lot, but considering it’s a nosebleed that’s to be expected.

“Got dropped on my face,” You explain through a wince. “The others are in the barn— they need medical. I patched their wounds as best I could with whatever was lying around,” Luke nods and radios for the ambulance to make their way up.

“And Vince?” Luke looks inside the barn and whistles. “Shouldn’t have been worried, then.” He knocks your shoulder with his fist and you wink.

“Yeah, he really wasn’t strong. He dropped me twice, once on my face and then on my back. I think my head hit a rock—“ Again, Spencer’s hands are on you as he checks the back of your head. Luke chuckles and you roll your eyes, messing with your wedding band tattoo. “I kicked the shit out of his face and then hogtied him.” You wait for a beat before looking over at Spencer. “No hogtie facts?”

“You have a shallow cut on your head, it’ll leave a small scar.” He says instead and opens up the jacket. “You should sit, we can deal with the others.” He drapes it over you and you smile, rubbing his matching tattoo.

“Okay,” He smiles and watches as you walk to sit on a log before heading inside with Luke. He looks at the man still tied up and then looks at the knife in his hand before walking closer. The man is wriggling and trying to speak, both of which he makes a point to ignore.

He saws at the tape before it lets go and quickly handcuffs Vince, ripping the tape off his mouth as hard and fast as he could manage with his shaking hands. Vince starts speaking but Spencer simply lugs him up from the ground in one fluid motion.

“Shut up.” He walks Vince out and tosses him over to the local PD before he finds you again. You’re helping the lady of the victims into the ambulance, setting the thick wool blanket over his shoulders.

“I told you to sit down,” He sighs and you spin around, hands up to show you weren’t doing anything. “Baby, you’re injured, please.” He grabs your hands and kisses your neck, hoping it’ll sway you.

“EMT said it's surface level and just a little bleed, nothing to fuss about.” He ignores the first part as he steals a kit from the ambulance, checking the inside to make sure he has what he needs.

“I’m fussing,” He beckons you over with two fingers and you huff, following him to the SUV where he sets you in the passenger seat. You watch, head on the seat as he carefully puts the items on the dashboard and cleans his hand with wipes.

“It’s cute that you’re worried,” You smile, eyes flickering between him putting on a pair of gloves and his face. “Maybe now you’ll stop being so reckless during cases.” Leaning over, you kiss his cheek but he moves back in for a kiss on the lips.

“I don’t know about that,” He smiles and gently holds your chin. “Let me know if it hurts too much, okay?” You roll your eyes but he doesn’t move so you sigh.

“Yes, doctor,”

#x male reader #x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler

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jackiespurnell · 3 days ago

Text

just give it what it wants (lottie matthews x travis' sister reader headcanons - requested)

summary: you're travis and javi's sister, and the crash (alongside of the death of your father) has taken a toll on all of you. luckily for you, lottie is there to help.

tw: mentions of death, poverty, reader was previously a stripper in order to make money (pre-crash life)

────୨ৎ────────

if someone told you six months that you’d be the kinda-sorta-girlfriend of the leader of a wilderness-worshipping cult consisting of a group of teenage girls you would probably say “what the fuck?”

which, even now, is still a pretty valid response

your dad was the coach of your school’s soccer team

and when they made it to nationals

naturally, you and your brothers got a free trip to seattle

you were the oldest of the bunch

and although you did spend the majority of the time at parties and getting drunk

you were by far the most responsible

and when the plane crashed and your dad died

of course you were devastated

because despite all his shittiness

he was still your dad

but now it was just you, travis and javi

and the soccer girls

you noticed how, as time went on, travis started getting closer to natalie

you didn’t know her that well, and despite you and travis’ constant bickering

you saw how happy she made him

so nat was good in your book

laura lee was kind, but a little too religious for your taste

(who prays that much anyways???)

shauna and jackie were way too in love with each other to really focus on anyone else

same with tai and van (although you got a feeling they actually had their shit together)

and misty was just straight up freaking you out sometimes

in fact, besides your brothers, there was only one girl who really caught your attention

lottie was rich, insanely fucking rich, rich enough to afford a whole private plane

but she didn’t seem stuck up or bossy or anything

she was a little weird, sure

always randomly waking up in the middle of the night

just staring out into nothingness

and then there was that moment during the seance

but for the most part, she seemed pretty chill

you remember the first time you actually had a real, one on one conversation

the weather was getting a little bit cooler

and you weren’t sure how long you guys had been out there

you had spent the majority of your pre-crash life scraping by, trying to find some ways to earn a little bit of cash

whether that was hooking up with guys twice your age or other part-time jobs you can run by

your dad’s job didn’t pay much, but at least it payed

now, you weren’t sure what to do

by now you would have already graduated high school

so at least you wouldn’t have to drop out

but no more college for you

you spent the majority of your days in the wilderness like this

taking a good five minutes just to sit alone and cry

and then go back to your responsibilities

and one day lottie found you during one of your sulking sessions

while typically you would just tell her (or anyone) to fuck off

you were just too tired

and given the fact that really didn’t have anyone else to talk to about this

(javi was too young, and travis was simply too closed off)

lottie seemed like the best option

so when she opened her arms out for a hug

you wrapped your arms around her waist and starting crying

she was gentle with you, her hands carding through your hair softly

she told you it was going to be alright

and while you’re not exactly sure if you believe her

for now, it’s good enough

until she starts talking all about the wilderness and how its ‘meant to save all of you’

cause honestly

what the fuck???

your father died, you and your siblings might die too

and yet she sees it as a ‘sign’

but when you try to pull out of her arms and get the fuck away

she just pulls you closer

“i didn’t mean to make you upset” she murmurs against your hair

she explains how she just said what you felt

and you know it’s unreasonable to get upset

you know it’s just her way of coping

but still

but what good would fighting do?

you can’t change her opinions

(and maybe a part of you knows. knows how much power she has. how much power she will have. how even if you wanted to leave, you couldn’t because she has the final say)

so you just lie there in there her arms, letting her hold you and press kisses into your hair

eventually y’all head back to the cabin

and you don’t talk again for a couple of days

until one night, you’re half asleep, and you feel something

it’s lottie, shaking you awake

“do you hear that?” she whispers

and no, you don’t fucking hear anything but you’re too tired to say anything

“follow me” she says, motioning towards the door and outside the cabin

and you know you shouldn’t

you know you should stay and watch over your brothers and get some sleep

you don’t even believe in lottie’s wilderness bullshit

but it’s lottie

so yeah

you follow her

it’s cold outside, really fucking cold, but fuck it’s pretty

even before all this, you never really liked the woods

it’s dirty and cold and just full of trees and dirt

but you never stopped to think how beautiful it is

you can clearly see the stars in the sky

there’s a lot of them

and while you don’t know a single one of their names or meanings or any of that stuff

in that moment it’s the best thing in this fucked up world

“it’s beautiful, right?” lottie says, almost as if she’s reading your mind

“it wants” she whispers into your ear, the hot breath of your mouth burning against your cold skin as she wraps her arms around your waist

and you know damn well what she’s talking about

and you don’t believe her for a fucking second

but either way, you know she’s not giving in

“what does it want?” you ask, just to entertain her

she presses her lips down to your neck and whispers “you” into your skin

and, well, when she puts it like that…

who are you to refuse?

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requested by @mikeymadisonsgf (i know you didn't give me a specific req so i hope u enjoy)

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #courtney eaton #fanfic #fanfiction #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #maria writes ౨ৎ

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seitmai · 2 days ago

Text

So many thoughts

He was gripping the steering wheel of the blue Bronco, and you waited silently for the engine to start. But it didn't. He barely moved. And you barely moved. But you couldn't step away from the window even as the light inside the Bronco faded into the night. Everything was silent. Your pounding heartbeat was all you could hear as the baby squirmed around in your belly like she knew her father was too far away from her now. Minutes passed, and you sank down onto the couch, but Bradley never started the engine.

I can't 😭

Your emotions were a mess as you eventually left the couch to get ready for bed. After you checked on Rose, finding her sound asleep in her crib without a care in the world, you peeked outside one more time. Bradley was still in the driveway, watching over the Craftsman and everything inside. You took your broken heart to bed, trying your best to fall asleep through your tears.

And I am trying to read through my tears 🥲

It was cold outside this late in October, but Bradley sucked it up. He was certain you knew he was still sitting in the driveway, and he didn't want to start the engine at three in the morning and startle you. Or make you think he was leaving. He wasn't going anywhere. So he let the cold surround him. Maybe you didn't want him in the house with you and Rose at the moment, but it was his responsibility to protect his family.

I respect that

Between small spurts of sleep, his mind drifted to the idea of you and Rose packing up everything in the house and moving across the country to live with your parents. It left him on the verge of panic each time. He bought the house for you. He had a family because of you. He was living beyond his wildest dreams married to you.

I just wanna give him a hug 🫂

There was no way to convince you he wasn't lying. There was nothing he could say at this point that wouldn't sound like he was trying to cover his own ass. You could talk to Mav or Nat or Jake until they were blue in the face, but if you didn't trust him, it would sound like everyone was covering for him. Because truthfully, only he and Lieutenant Jeffries knew for sure that Bradley had never touched her.

Unfortunately this is very true..

I'm leaving for work. If you want to talk, come find me, and I'll clear my schedule. We'll figure this out. We have to, because I can't live without you. I love you.

🥺🥺🥺

His stomach growled as he drove, reminding him he didn't get to enjoy what you cooked for dinner last night. He'd been missing dinner too often. It was almost Halloween, and the two of you should have been planning a costume for Rose to wear. He should have been working on an anniversary getaway for November. He'd been fucking up a lot for someone who wasn't aware he was doing it, but he certainly wasn't an adulterer.

I'm glad though that this serves as a reminder that he hast to get his husband and dad duties back in order☝🏻

Once again, he thought about you throwing all your fancy kitchen gadgets in a box and leaving without a backward glance in his direction. Bradley's hands shook, and he didn't know how he'd make it through the day at this rate.

I really hope for everyone's safety he is not going in the air today 🥴

The walk to his office was long, but not long enough for inspiration to strike. Maybe Nat could give him some advice. She'd been harping on about girl code the other day. As much as he hated to admit it, Jake might be a helpful ally right now. He was a big fan of yours, and always quick to remind Bradley he'd married way out of his league.

Yeah let's round the troops, because he won't get out of this alone when he didn't even realize his fuck up on his own 🫣

This was all exhausting. Nausea and fatigue waged war in his body as Bradley stumbled to his feet once again.

Not to be petty, but I'm glad he gets a taste of his own medicine with BG and her pregnancy symptoms 🤷🏻‍♀️

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, fingers wrapping around the bottle so aggressively, he was afraid it would explode in his hand. He'd been told to keep his distance for now, but clearly Indigo was none the wiser as she followed him right inside his office.

This bitch 😤

Indigo froze before bursting into delighted laughter that set his teeth on edge. "Ruin your life? I can assure you, Sir, I would like nothing more than to have a very good time with you." Any warmth remaining in Bradley's body vanished, leaving him sweaty and shivering. "That's not appropriate," he gasped. "You're reporting to me through Top Gun, and I'm married."

STAND 👏🏻 YOUR 👏🏻GROUND👏🏻ROOSTER👏🏻

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "This was a lot easier last time." "You've done this before?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to the door and empty hallway beyond, wishing he'd just gone to your office instead.

No fucking way!! But I mean with her behavior this should not surprise me 🤦🏻‍♀️🥴

"I like older men," Indigo replied sweetly. "Ones with lots of pins on their uniforms. And they've always been agreeable before."

Dont get me wrong, I think this is absolutely vile behavior, especially directly to BG, but she is just using the rules that always held women especially in male dominated field back and plays it with her own rules, so I kinda get it were she's coming from.. it's like the "women in male field" trend in a way, in a very morally fucked up way 😅🙈

"Are you out of your mind?" Bradley's voice shook, but it was loud enough that she froze again. "You think I would jeopardize my marriage for you? My family? The thought never crossed my mind!" Indigo licked her lips. "I've seen your wife. She's pregnant again. And she's -" "She's perfect," Bradley barked, eyes blazing as he glanced at the wedding photo. "Do not talk about her. Ever." He squeezed his eyes closed and squared his shoulders before glaring at Indigo. "Get the fuck out of my office."

Halleluja 👏🏻🙏🏻

Why were you in his office? You were crying, working your hands in front of your pregnant belly as you whispered, "I'm sorry, Bradley!"

Omg this is perfect!

When he held his arms open, you rushed into them, burying your face in his chest as you wailed. He had no idea why you were in his office, but if the end result was getting to hold you tight, he didn't need a reason. As soon as you touched him, he immediately felt better.

🥹🥹🥹

"No. It's not okay," came your immediate, muffled response, arms tightening around him. "I made you sleep outside. I told you I'd leave with the girls." You looked up at him, tears brimming from your eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you." Bradley shook his head, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek. "I'm sorry I put you through this shit. This is so fucked up."

Ahh finally, I feel like I can breathe again😅

Bradley kissed your quivering lips as you started to calm down. "Please never leave me. I'm not going to stop being in love with you. Okay? I just want my girls." With one more kiss, he whispered, "And there's nothing wrong with the way you look. You're perfect." The smallest smile found your lips. "That's what you told Indigo."

Yes he did 👏🏻😌

"I hate her." "Me, too," he sighed, exhausted from thinking about Indigo.

Me, three

He let his breathing match yours, falling into a comfortable rhythm that he didn't want to let go of yet. "I have an idea. Let's go home." "Home?" "Yeah. Let's go get Rose from the nursery and ditch the rest of the day. I just want to go home." Now you were the one running your hand along his scarred cheek. "You must be exhausted." When he nodded, you said, "Okay. Let's go home, and I'll take care of you." When you tried to pull away, Bradley kept you close. "No. I'm going to take care of you. I clearly haven't been doing enough of that since I started this position. So that's going to change immediately." "We can take care of each other," you replied easily, but you were smiling.

🥰🥰🥰

You laced your fingers with his and started to tug him toward the door. "To get the ball rolling on Indigo's spectacular downfall." "What?" Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "I just inadvertently managed to clear my name, and you already formulated a plan?" You waved your free hand in the air. "It's like half a plan at best, but it's coming together."

Iconic 👏🏻 😂

Bradley made sure the door locked behind him. "I am in awe of you," he murmured, letting you lead him down the hallway. "Nobody messes with my husband."

And BG takes that promise seriously ☝🏻

You smiled to yourself. "I want to start doing it sooner." "Sooner?" she asked, confused. "How much sooner?" "Tomorrow."

Aim for the Sky Part 35 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're conflicted by your own words, unsure if you can stay away from your husband. There's only one person who can tell you the truth about Bradley, but she's the same one who seems to be on a quest to ruin your life.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, jealousy, mentions of cheating

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Tramp whimpered at your feet. The muffled sound of the Bronco's door closing sent you to the front window to look out onto the driveway. It was dark, but you could see Bradley's tear-streaked face lit up by the dome light as you choked on a sob. It took everything you had to stand there instead of running to him.

You wanted him to come back inside, but you just told him you wouldn't hesitate to take the kids and move back to Maryland with your parents. "What did you do?" you gasped as fresh tears filled your eyes. You couldn't tell if you were being strong or stupid or some combination of the two, but the longer you stared out the window, the more you realized Bradley wasn't leaving you even though you told him to.

Relief washed over you knowing he wasn't running off to Indigo. Maybe there was a way to salvage things. You couldn't take back what you said, and he couldn't take back anything he'd already done with her, but you didn't think you could stop loving him. You didn't think you could separate him from his daughters.

You took your broken heart to bed, trying your best to fall asleep through your tears.

-------------------------------

Maybe you didn't want him in the house with you and Rose at the moment, but it was his responsibility to protect his family. And he wanted to be as close as you'd let him. Between small spurts of sleep, his mind drifted to the idea of you and Rose packing up everything in the house and moving across the country to live with your parents. It left him on the verge of panic each time. He bought the house for you. He had a family because of you. He was living beyond his wildest dreams married to you.

Everything with the Navy took time. Mav was a big help, but a report would need to be written up for formal action. And now Bradley would need to notify someone about the new message Indigo sent with the world's worst timing, but meanwhile he was supposed to carry on like everything was completely normal.

As soon as daylight broke, he rubbed his exhaustion away from his eyes. He wanted to get to base to shower and change into the clean flight suit he kept in his locker, but he had to make sure you knew he spent the whole night in the Bronco first. So Bradley waited until he saw movement inside. Just a quick flick of the living room curtain, but he was sure you saw him. Nevertheless, he sent a text.

I'm leaving for work. If you want to talk, come find me, and I'll clear my schedule. We'll figure this out. We have to, because I can't live without you. I love you.

He didn't expect you to respond right away. He stretched, his body positively aching from sitting in one spot for so long before he started the engine. His stomach growled as he drove, reminding him he didn't get to enjoy what you cooked for dinner last night. He'd been missing dinner too often. It was almost Halloween, and the two of you should have been planning a costume for Rose to wear. He should have been working on an anniversary getaway for November. He'd been fucking up a lot for someone who wasn't aware he was doing it, but he certainly wasn't an adulterer.

The locker room was empty as he changed out of his wrinkly uniform and slipped under the hot shower stream. Nothing was going to make him feel better if you didn't trust him. Once again, he thought about you throwing all your fancy kitchen gadgets in a box and leaving without a backward glance in his direction. Bradley's hands shook, and he didn't know how he'd make it through the day at this rate.

As he pulled on his flight suit, he thought about going up to your office to wait for you to arrive. But he'd end up on his knees again, begging you to stay with him, and that wasn't what you needed to hear right now. He was exhausted, but he tried to clear his mind and think of some way to convince you he would never do anything to hurt you. But if Indigo already made comments directly to you, it felt like all hope was lost.

He settled in behind his desk, unable to look away from the wedding photo for a few minutes. You looked perfect that day. You were perfect every day. There was no doubt you'd be perfect without him, but he didn't want you going anywhere unless you took him, too.

"Fuck," Bradley gasped, lungs burning with the effort to hold back his tears. His students would be sitting down to take a practicum exam shortly. He didn't necessarily need to be there, but it would look good if he was. But he'd also have to face Indigo in the classroom. Maverick was still up in Lemoore, and he was the only one who knew Bradley filed a formal complaint.

This was all exhausting. Nausea and fatigue waged war in his body as Bradley stumbled to his feet once again. He needed something to drink. Some cold water. He threw his office door open wide and walked back up the hallway to the small lounge where he grabbed a water bottle and downed it in one go. Panting, he took a second one before slowly heading back the way he came.

He didn't even feel better as he started sweating profusely. He wanted you. He wanted you to let him hold you. He wanted to kiss Rose.

His office door was just a few feet away when he heard her voice.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

"Sir," she said, voice bold and unbothered. "I thought we could walk to the classroom together."

Bradley spun and looked at her. He really shouldn't be surprised at this point. He also shouldn't be talking to her alone in his office, but she was standing there expectantly, blinking those eyes up at him.

"Unless you're not ready to head over yet...."

Her words trailed off as she casually reached for the door, fingers grazing the wood.

"Do not close that door," Bradley barked, surprising himself with his angry tone. Indigo's hand dropped to her side, eyes wide, but she took a step closer as he backed up until he hit his desk. He managed to set the water bottle down, chest rising and falling rapidly. He shouldn't be talking to her, but he couldn't help himself as he shook his head. "What is your problem?"

She cocked her head slightly, a hesitant smile on her lips. "Sir?"

Bradley skirted along past his desk as she tracked him. "I don't understand why you're trying to ruin my life," he hissed.

Indigo froze before bursting into delighted laughter that set his teeth on edge. "Ruin your life? I can assure you, Sir, I would like nothing more than to have a very good time with you."

Any warmth remaining in Bradley's body vanished, leaving him sweaty and shivering. "That's not appropriate," he gasped. "You're reporting to me through Top Gun, and I'm married."

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "This was a lot easier last time."

"You've done this before?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to the door and empty hallway beyond, wishing he'd just gone to your office instead.

"I like older men," Indigo replied sweetly. "Ones with lots of pins on their uniforms. And they've always been agreeable before."

"Unbelievable," Bradley groaned, ready to throw away all of his insignia pins and run away. "Lieutenant Jeffries, I have never laid a finger on you. We've never been alone in here with the door closed, ever."

"But you wanted to. You can admit it," she whispered, reaching once more for the door.

"Are you out of your mind?" Bradley's voice shook, but it was loud enough that she froze again. "You think I would jeopardize my marriage for you? My family? The thought never crossed my mind!"

Indigo licked her lips. "I've seen your wife. She's pregnant again. And she's -"

"She's perfect," Bradley barked, eyes blazing as he glanced at the wedding photo. "Do not talk about her. Ever." He squeezed his eyes closed and squared his shoulders before glaring at Indigo. "Get the fuck out of my office."

He was afraid she wasn't going to listen, the way she stood there and stared at him in surprise. But Bradley had nothing left. His fingers were shaking, and he was sure he was going to vomit. She finally turned and marched from the room with her chin in the air, and Bradley turned to face his desk.

Panic like he never felt before filled his veins. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now as he gripped the edge of his desk and stared down at his boots. His body shook with silent sobs as he tried to catch his breath, but his brain couldn't seem to get past the fact that his life was in absolute ruins.

"Oh, God," he gasped, lifting his head in time to see his office door move a few inches. Before he could fully register what was happening, you popped out from behind it and carefully pushed it closed.

"Sweetheart?" he croaked, examining your tear-streaked cheeks before you stumbled closer to him.

Why were you in his office? You were crying, working your hands in front of your pregnant belly as you whispered, "I'm sorry, Bradley!"

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," you sobbed over and over, body shaking against him. "I was so scared, and I look so awful right now. And I'm just so sorry!"

"Shhh," he coaxed softly, kissing the top of your head before letting his chin rest there. "It's okay."

Bradley shook his head, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek. "I'm sorry I put you through this shit. This is so fucked up."

He let you cry, wiping your tears with his thumb as they fell for the longest time. He already felt like he could figure out a way to fix everything as long as you still wanted him.

The smallest smile found your lips. "That's what you told Indigo."

"Baby Girl, that's what I tell everybody," he promised, relieved beyond belief that you witness that miserable exchange. "What are you doing here anyway?" he whispered, keeping you snug against him as you looked up at his face. "Not that I'm complaining, but I wasn't expecting you to want to see me."

"I came to talk to you as soon as I dropped Rose off." You wiped your tears on his flight suit as you added, "When I got here, the door was wide open, so I came inside. Then I heard her voice in the hallway. I panicked and hid behind the door."

"And I couldn't be happier that you did," he whispered.

"She really wanted to close the door."

"She really did."

"I hate her."

"Me, too," he sighed, exhausted from thinking about Indigo. He let his breathing match yours, falling into a comfortable rhythm that he didn't want to let go of yet. "I have an idea. Let's go home."

"Home?"

"Yeah. Let's go get Rose from the nursery and ditch the rest of the day. I just want to go home."

Now you were the one running your hand along his scarred cheek. "You must be exhausted." When he nodded, you said, "Okay. Let's go home, and I'll take care of you."

When you tried to pull away, Bradley kept you close. "No. I'm going to take care of you. I clearly haven't been doing enough of that since I started this position. So that's going to change immediately."

"We can take care of each other," you replied easily, but you were smiling. "I just need to talk to Cat first."

Bradley groaned softly. He was already imagining the three of you at home. He would make lunch while you fed Rose, and then everyone could take a long nap. He just wanted everything to feel normal again.

"Why do you need Cat first?"

You laced your fingers with his and started to tug him toward the door. "To get the ball rolling on Indigo's spectacular downfall."

"What?" Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "I just inadvertently managed to clear my name, and you already formulated a plan?"

You waved your free hand in the air. "It's like half a plan at best, but it's coming together." You paused. "You know what? I'll just call Cat when we get home. I'm sure we can handle it from there. I really want to snuggle with you, and I'm starving."

Bradley made sure the door locked behind him. "I am in awe of you," he murmured, letting you lead him down the hallway.

"Nobody messes with my husband."

--------------------------------

You felt alive again for the first time in weeks. You were thriving. Bradley never let you out of his sight as he made lunch and burped Rose. He put her down in her crib, wrapped you in his arms, and led you toward the promise of an afternoon nap.

"Wait, Cat's calling me back," you whispered, watching his face fall as he tried to get you to the bedroom. "It'll just take a minute."

"I can barely keep my eyes open," he murmured, kissing your cheek before you backed away. "Just come in when you're done."

You watched him turn to the bedroom, pulling his undershirt over his head as he went. The temptation of his warm body wrapped around yours was almost too much to fight, but when you thought about Indigo, you wanted to punch a hole in the wall. Or her face.

"Hi."

"Where are you?" Cat asked. "I thought I saw you in the parking lot this morning, and now you're magically nowhere to be found."

"I'm at home," you told her quickly. "Hey, how close are you to finishing the new code for the Super Hornet updates?"

There was a beat of silence. "Not that close. We aren't rolling out the updates until the end of the year. It'll ground some of the pilots."

You smiled to yourself. "I want to start doing it sooner."

"Sooner?" she asked, confused. "How much sooner?"

"Tomorrow."

---------------------------------

Hearing that straight from Indigo had to make BG feel so much better! Is this me being nicer? Beginning to mend things? Stay tuned.

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

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@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

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stinkysam · 2 days ago

Text

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Golden child.

Warning : this is not an x reader cuz they’re brothers. Drugs, death, violence, lots of scenes retranscriptions, really long (11k3 words)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “You’re Thanos’ little brother and you decide to join the games to help him pay his debts.” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English

You were the second and last child, the favorite. The one that succeeded in everything he tried and never brought troubles home.

Unlike Subong who had bullied some of his classmates before leaving school at a young age to focus on his rap career, had some moderate success and then failed, you were still in school, mixing studies and work in a tight schedule.

That didn’t stop your dad from giving you a hard time at certain moments, though it was your older brother who took most of it during your childhood.

When Subong left the house, your father badmouthed him for it, saying he didn’t care about the family or taking care of your parents, but when you did you almost got praised.

“Ah, my successful son.” You received a pat on the head, a bit too strongly for your liking.

Your mother on the other hand had congratulated you the same way she did with your brother. Buying and cooking you food for your own place to fill the fridge.

You knew she worried about him, and you did too.

Despite these differences as you grew up, Subong always saw you as his baby brother that he needed to take care of.

In his own way though.

But you felt more like it was the opposite since the day you began to understand how your family worked. You didn’t mind though, you loved him and his antics, actively hanging out with him once school was over, from elementary school till you got into university.

You didn’t care if you had to solve his problems, you knew he’d do the same thing if you got into trouble. Which you tried to hide a lot of times because you knew he would beat up anyone bothering you. And you didn’t want him to go to jail because of you.

So when a weird man approached you on a Sunday at 10am for a game of ddakji with money for the winner, you wondered if he was some kind of gambler trying to get his fix.

You weren’t particularly looking for money, but 100 000 per victory was still appetizing and you thought about your brother.

He sometimes asked you for money and even though it was always small amounts he never refused when you gave him extra cash. He never told you he had debts yet you easily guessed it despite not knowing how much he owed exactly.

You accepted to play. You could give what you earned in that small game to give it to him.

Rubbing your stinging cheek you took the money the man gave you, counting it before folding it and pushing it in your pocket.

He handed you a small card, telling you you could win more by playing a few more games.

It smelled fishy but you still took it, wondering how much you could make and if it’ll be enough to help your brother.

As you walked away, you immediately called him.

“Rise and shine ! I got something for you.” You said a sing-song tone as soon as he picked up after the third try.

“Huh ?” His voice was rough, you knew you had woken him up, it made you laugh.

“400 000 won. What do you say ?”

“Huh ?” He repeated. “Mh, I don’t need money…” He said uncharacteristically quiet, you scoffed.

“Yeah, right. You’re at your place I suppose ?”

“…Yeah.”

“Coming.” And with that you hung up.

You woke up at the same time as everyone, quickly emerging, looking around and at all the people surrounding you.

From above, you spotted on the ground someone with purple hair walking around amongst the others. You tried to get a better look when suddenly a big door of the lobby opened, pink masked men coming in with guns.

A man with a square on his mask welcomed you all, explaining what you were going to do for the next following days. Then questions came. Why the kidnapping ? The masks ? Why all those secrets ?

As the square responded, talking about security of the staff, a girl commented on her clothes, finding them ugly, preferring to wear the pink suit the armed guys were wearing.

That’s when the man with purple hair you saw earlier spoke, talking about his limited edition shoes. You recognized the voice instantly.

“Subong ?” You said to yourself, not believing your ears and eyes.

Another man intervened, asking about his phone, needing to monitor the crypto market at all times.

You supposed the square no longer had patience, showing and giving the names of everyone that had asked questions. Your brother appeared on the screen above the pink man. There were no doubts anymore. He’s here.

Fuck.

The square continued talking, speaking about second chances while the screen continued to display everyone in the room playing ddakji. You weren’t listening, hurrying out of bed and climbing down to find your brother.

You quickly stopped though as the lights dimmed down and a giant piggy made of glass came down from the ceiling.

“How much is the prize money ?” A curly haired man asked.

“The prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total.” The square replied as you almost fell from the ladder in shock.

Regaining your composure, you slowly began searching for your brother again as more questions and answers were given, and apparently you weren’t the only one searching for someone. Just as some old woman found that curly haired man, you saw Thanos’ purple hair.

“Bro ! Subong !” You whispers yelled, making your way toward him.

Subong’s head shot up, looking around for whoever had called him. His eyes widened when he saw you approaching. What ?!

“What the fuck are you doing here ?” He asked a bit too bluntly, making you grimace at him.

“I came here to get you money. You’re not supposed to be here as well.” You sighed, putting your hands in your pockets. “If I knew you’d be here too, I wouldn’t have called them.”

“You should’ve told me, man ! No secrets between us, remember ?”

“Like your big debts you hide from mom, dad and me ? Wasn’t it 1.19 billion ?”

“How do you know ?” He asked, genuinely surprised. He thought he had hidden it well. “Ah, they said it when they showed me. Did I look cool ?”

“No.” You said, too seriously, making him huff. “And no, I knew before that.”

“Huh ?”

“I’m smart, you’re dumb, remember ? I smelled your debts from kilometers away.” You said with a proud smile, dusting off your chest.

“Ah, that bastard.” He said under his breath, glaring at you. “Is that the way of treating your older brother ? Mh ?” He pushed your shoulder, making you smile.

“Sorry. But seriously, why didn’t you tell me you met that sketchy guy when I told you how I got the 400 000 won ?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d call them ?”

You stared at him and gave him a sigh.

“Alright. You got a point.”

“No more secrets, okay ? You know everything anyway.” He said, showing you his pinky. “Promise ?”

You looked at his hand and groaned.

“You have my word but no pinky promises. It’s fucking cringe at your big age.”

He put one hand on his heart, acting hurt, his other one still waiting for yours.

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Come on ! Do it !” He loudly said, losing patience and attracting attention, making you give in.

“…Alright.” You sighed, one hand on your face in embarrassment as you locked pinkies with your other one, thumb touching his. “Promise.”

“Good.” He said, rubbing your hair quickly. Before hugging you. “Ah, I’m so happy you’re here. We’re gonna make so much money, my little guy !”

You gave each other a thumbs up as you signed the consent form to play the games and walked back behind the lines, waiting for everyone to be done.

That’s when a young man approached you two, 124 written on his sweatshirt.

“Thanos. Do you remember me ?” He asked, a bit awkwardly.

“No.” Subong replied. You tried not to smile at his bluntness. “Who are you ?”

“I’m Namgyu, from club Pentagon, we met a few times, don’t you remember ?”

“No.” He said again, shaking his head after thinking quickly. “What do you want ?”

You barely listened to Namgyu’s answer, focusing on trying to find the highest number on people’s sweatshirts.

“Oh, there’s MG Coin.” Namgyu said, pointing to the front. Subong suddenly stood up, walking toward where 124 was showing.

You saw them talk with another guy, 333 on his clothes, their discussion grew more heated and you grimaced as Subong grabbed him, about to punch the man, but Namgyu stopped him.

Your brother walked away only to go back toward 333, probably menacing him before sitting next to you once more.

“You lost money because of him ?” You asked, trying to understand what happened.

“500 million won. That fucking bastard.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. You said nothing though a hundred things rushed to your mind. Why the fuck would he spend that much on it ? Was it the money he won by rapping ? Does he even know how crypto works ? Why did he trust some random guy on the World Wide Web ? Was he… truly dumb ?

You sighed, massaging your forehead.

Soon, everyone had signed the consent form and the square told you to follow them for the first game.

You patted your brother’s back as you stood up.

As you formed a line, Subong behind you and Namgyu behind him, you tried to find where you were by looking for windows.

But there were none. Long corridors with unnatural lights, stairs in every direction, no views to the outside. You could still be in Korea or on some random island in the middle of the sea. Or maybe even underground in another country.

Your photo was taken and as you walked away you looked at your brother. Someone had recognized him, a fan, asking for a photo with him. Soon more people came asking for a photo, squeezing in the shot to be with him in the picture. You smiled, amused and laughed when the square said it was not allowed.

You walked away, still chuckling as your brother told him to get in the shot as well.

You continued going up and down the multiple stairs, seeing the other lines taking a different path than yours. You wondered if you’d all end up in the same place.

Suddenly Subong pushed you, rushing past the people in front of you. You wondered what was going on until you saw the lady who spoke about how ugly the green tracksuit is.

“Ah, who does he think he is ? Casanova or some shit ?” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

Next time you saw him, it was on a big empty field, with what seemed like all the other persons from the lobby. You wanted to approach him but as soon as you heard him talk to that girl you walked away.

“Fuck. So cringe.” You huffed, slapping lightly your face to recover from that sight. Sadly you weren’t far enough as you heard him rap for her. You tried not to laugh, your eyes watering in embarrassment. “Surely he’s adopted.”

The doors closed as they announced the name of the first game, Green light, red light. Seems easy. You liked playing that game with your brother as you were a kid, though he always added new rules so you’d lose.

Then a man rushed to the front, 456, the highest number you’ve seen on someone. He yelled for everyone to listen to him, that losing meant dying.

No one seemed to believe him, even arguing back and saying it was ridiculous.

So 456 continued, saying the doll had motion detectors in her eyes. You knew this whole situation was weird, but didn’t expect the other people here to be weird as well.

But still no one believed him. Even as the first few rounds started, everyone was moving and freezing in time as he stayed still, yelling to stay relaxed.

It was going so well until that girl your brother was flirting with moved, scared of the bee on her neck.

“Crap, I just moved.” She said, before getting shot in the head and falling to the ground. Your breath was caught in your throat as you almost jumped at the sound of a gunshot. Your brother was frozen, though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it was covered in her blood.

“Fuck- what the fuck ?” You whispered, staring at her body while yours began to shake.

“Nobody moves !” 456 screamed. Could he just shut up ? “You must not move !”

“Player 196 eliminated.”

Then a woman looked at 196 before screaming in horror and getting shot as well. More people moved in shock, screaming, rushing to the back, pushing people which made them move as well.

Through all the noise, you could barely hear 456 screaming, but you knew he was still telling you to stay frozen, to not move and wait or you’ll die.

“Let me repeat. You can move forward while the tagger shouts ‘Green light, red light’. If your movements are detected afterwards, you will be eliminated.”

No one dared to move when the doll turned and sang again, too afraid to die. As she did it once more, you saw your brother move, quickly getting something from around his neck.

“You will also die if you don’t make it there in time !” 456 yelled, urging you to move as soon as you could. “That doll is a motion detector ! But it can’t detect motion that’s not visible to it ! Go behind someone bigger than you, like you’re doing Follow the Leader !”

2 minutes 19 were remaining, and you were close to the middle of the field. Time is short but if you hurry up you could make it.

Everyone moved when the doll turned around, already forming lines as they hid behind each other. But her song got faster and faster, never leaving you enough time to properly run.

That’s when you saw your brother push three people before him, sending them to their deaths. Fuuuck. He had his fucking pills with him and took one of them.

He was also the first one to move again as the doll faced the wall, skipping, jumping, heel kicking.

You tried calling for him, telling him to hide behind someone. He was in plain sight, easily seen by the killer doll. But he was too out of it, the only one in the field taking pleasure playing.

Only a few meters remained, Subong crossed before you, dancing in joy as you finally reached the finish line too, out of breath. You were ready to let yourself fall to the ground to rest when he grabbed you, making you celebrate with him, but you just pulled away, throwing up. You had seen enough blood and deaths for a lifetime.

Everyone looked up when the sky closed. Pink guards coming in to bring you back to the lobby. Not a word was uttered on the way.

Subong tried to get you to talk, but you ignored him. You felt like if you spoke you’d cry or throw up again.

You all sat as one united group in the lobby, still silent.

You brother was sniffing and fidgeting. Namgyu asked him if he was alright.

“Don’t worry.” Subong replied.

“What ?”

“I’m okay.”

You were shaking, anxiously swaying when the lights were turned on, the square and a few triangles entering the lobby. Everyone moved away, trying to hide behind the beds to not get shot. Subong barely moved while you hid behind him and Namgyu.

The square congratulated you for making it through the first game, and announced how many people were remaining.

Scared, the old woman you previously saw with the curly haired man moved forward, begging to spare hers and her son’s life, promising she’ll find a way to repay her son’s debts. People followed, begging on their knees as well. You were still watching from behind Thanos.

“We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity.” Said the square.

“Close three of the consent form !” A man yelled as everyone went silent, looking at him. “‘The games may be terminated upon a majority vote.’” It was 456. “Correct ?”

“That is correct.”

“Then let us take a vote right now.”

The square agreed, talking about respecting the right of freedom of choice. Everyone signed in relief, and you did too, relaxing slightly.

“But first, let me announce the prize amount that’s been accumulated.” He added, before clicking on a remote, and the glass piggy appeared again. Before you could wonder what was happening, money fell into it in large quantities, gaining everyone’s interest, slowly coming out of their hiding spot.

Subong and Namgyu moved, getting closer from the center to get a better view as you remained on the floor, too stunned to move.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.” The square announced. “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”

“How much is that ?” Someone asked.

“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”

Which meant 49,863,000 with you and your brother.

“Twenty million ? You said 45.6 billion !” Yelled Subong.

“The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly.” The square replied.

Your mind was racing, barely listening as more questions were asked. The square’s answers seemed to please everyone as they all began to whisper among themselves.

If you and Subong survive, it’ll be 45.5 billion won in total, so 22.75 billion each. Fuck. Could you stand more games ? There was this guy, Namgyu, that could help but could you really trust him ?

“Now, let’s begin the vote.” Said the square as some circles entered to place a machine with two buttons before him, an O and X lighting up on the floor. “If you wish to continue the games, press the O button. If you wish to end them, press the X button.”

456 voted first, not even hesitating as he chose X before walking to the X side of the lobby.

454 chose O and did the same, standing on the other side of the room.

Slowly, 54 people had voted. There was no real big majority, though it seemed like more people voted X. Then the Os were winning, 92 people against 87. Your brother rushed to the machine, pushing the O button without hesitation. 93.

You sighed.

Fuck. You’d have to vote O too.

456 suddenly intervened, telling people to come to their senses. Why did so many want to keep playing after knowing how the games were ?

100 argued back, asking who he was and why he kept egging everyone on.

“You scared us by saying they’d shoot us before the game even began !”

254 spoke too, saying she almost died because 456 made her so nervous.

That’s when 226 asked the real question. How did 455 know they were going to shoot those who moved ? Was he one of them ?

456 stayed silent as they continued to argue back, chaos erupting as both sides yelled at each other.

“I have played these games before !” 456 finally yelled, shutting up everyone. “I have done this before ! I knew about the first game because I had played it before ! I played the games here three years ago. And everyone who was with me… died here !”

This stunned everyone. But not for long. He already came here ? How did he survive alone ? Was he the only winner ?

“I was the final winner.” He added, quietly. “If we continue the games, every single person here, just like all the people back then, will die in the end.”

100 scoffed, not believing him. What was he doing here if he already won 45.6 billion won ?

More people voiced their disbelief as you saw your brother approach 456 confidently.

“If you really won, it actually works better for us.” He pointed at him. “You can give us some tips on how to beat these games.”

“That’s right ! We have a previous winner with us, so what do we have to worry about ?” 100 added. “Come on, let’s do this !”

“Come on !” Your brother yelled, as other Os agreed, encouraging the others to vote O as well.

You saw 456 walk toward those who hadn’t voted yet, begging them to vote X to stop the deaths. As he was talking a triangle had approached him, planting his gun on his back.

“From here on, we will not tolerate actions that disrupt the voting process.” Said the square. “Now let’s resume the vote. Player 228.”

And so the vote continued. Slowly the X returned the situation, voting in mass while you stood next to your brother with an O on your chest. You heard him sigh, annoyed with how this was going.

331 people had voted, the Xs were winning. Then the Os, then the Xs again and so on.

As only a couple persons were left, each side cheered when a vote their way was made.

“Player 001.” Called the square.

“Everyone, say O !” Your brother yelled, raising his fist in the air and quickly each side did the same thing. Yelling what to vote. 001 could change everything, getting you out or keeping you in. His vote was crucial.

Silence fell as he stood in front of the buttons, visibly hesitating before choosing O.

Everyone cheered, Thanos was jumping in joy, his hand on your shoulder to reach higher before bumping his chest against Namgyu’s.

After the vote and when everyone had calmed down, the pink men came back, putting you all in lines to give you food. Fried egg and rice with a bottle of water.

You were eating calmly with your brother and Namgyu. They talked first about the prize money and slowly the discussion drifted toward the YouTuber that had scammed them. If they get his money as well, it would make a really great sum.

Namgyu left first, rubbing his hands, Thanos followed quickly, leaving you his rice to finish. Though you didn’t feel too hungry after what happened, you still took it, watching where they were going.

Toward the YouTuber, obviously.

It didn’t take long for them to throw hands, 333 throwing himself on your brother, both landing on the floor as Namgyu tried to help.

Subong got back up and began punching the poor man.

“Son of a bitch.” He cursed, 333 was on the floor as he began to kick him. “I lost all the money because of you, fucker. You piece of shit.”

Fuck. You quickly finished your rice and stood up, wanting to stop him before he could beat him up too much.

“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime ?” 001 intervened, slowly making his way toward Subong, Namgyu and 333. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners. And two against one… aren’t you embarrassed ?”

Your brother stopped, looking at him before approaching him, confidently closing the distance.

“You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too ? Dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”

“What did you say ?”

“I said save the lecture for your own damn kids.”

Then 001 grabbed him by the throat, making you jump and hurry toward them with Namgyu. The man kicked you two without breaking a sweat, sending you to the floor before letting go of your brother.

Knowing him, he was seeing himself as the strongest here, so he wasn’t going to back down from this fight. As he approached 001, he got punched in the stomach, bending down in pain and trying to catch his breath.

“Wait-” He said, trying to put a hand on the man who grabbed his arm which cracked loudly, and sent him on the floor before kicking his face and shoulder, making him lay on his back.

001 was above him, strangling him and ready to punch him again as you stood up with difficulty, limping toward them.

“I’m sorry.” Subong said, struggling to speak.

“Please let go of him, we’re sorry !” You said, bowing completely, desperately trying to help your brother not get killed here. You could not take that man in a fight. “Please, sir !”

“Please… let me go…” Subong’s face was red, voice strained, hands by 001’s wrist.

Slowly, 001 pulled away as your brother coughed, finally getting some air. You rushed to his side, helping him up.

People were clapping, applauding the man for stopping the fight. He nodded slightly before walking back to the group he was with.

You sat with Subong in a corner, Namgyu joining you rapidly, limping as well. You stayed together till it was time to go to bed.

But despite his loss, your brother still looked confident, he was not going to be put down so easily. If he wasn’t the strongest, he was the second strongest. You sighed, exasperated and placed your hand on his head. If you could just give him some of your brain cells… Just a bit…

“What ? What is it ?” He asked, looking at you.

“No, nothing. Keep yapping, I’m going to bed.”

“I’m not yapping. Hey ! Come back here !” He sighed as you ignored him, climbing to your bed. “That asshole…”

You woke up to the sound of classical music, and soon a voice in the speakers spoke, announcing the start of the second game as armed pink men came in. You began to climb down, and as you reached the floor you looked at your wrist. Your watch was gone.

“What time is it ?” You asked.

“Too early.” Your brother responded still on his bed, opening his cross and taking a yellow pill.

“My god.” You said, watching him annoyed. You knew you couldn’t stop him even if you tried. “It’s always too early for you.” You added, before walking away.

He just tsked, swallowing the pill.

From above, Namgyu knocked on the bed frame, gaining his attention, asking what he was taking.

“You don’t need to know. It’s time to play the game.” Subong replied, standing up and following you.

You arrived in a big room, two giant colored circles on the ground. They looked like rainbows. Purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red.

The voice told you to divide into teams of 6 by the end of the 10 minutes. Quickly people began to look for partners.

Your brother wrapped an arm around you and patted Namgyu’s back.

“Three !” He announced proudly.

“Yeah, three missing.” You added.

“[Name] ! Namsu !”

“Namgyu.” Namgyu corrected.

“Excuse me, can I team up with you ?” A voice spoke from behind. As you turned around you recognized the man. He was the fanboy who wanted a photo with Thanos yesterday.

You nodded, eager to find the missing team members.

“Of course !” Your brother added, hitting the man’s shoulder.

“Thank you so much !” The fanboy quickly bowed.

“What’s your name ?” Namgyu asked.

“Gyeongsu.”

“[Name].” You said, pointing to yourself, then pointed to Namgyu. “Namgyu.” And then to your brother. “Him.”

“‘Him ?’ I’m fucking Thanos the great ! The legend !”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re aware.” You said, nodding, making him glare at you. You could be really annoying sometimes.

“So… 2 more people, right ?” Namgyu pointed out, looking around for two more people.

That’s when Subong left without a warning, making the team follow him. Something had caught his eyes.

A girl.

Obviously.

“Not again…” You whispered. “One of us really must be adopted.”

“Señorita, excuse me ?”

“Oh my god.” You hid behind Gyeongsu, too ashamed of your brother.

The girl turned around, staring.

“Let’s play the game together.” Thanos said, crossing his arms with a smirk.

The woman looked at all of you before answering, unsure.

“Well, why should I ?”

“Don’t you know who he is ?” Gyeongsu asked. “He’s Thanos, the rapper.” As he said that your brother posed, you just wanted to walk away and find another team. “I’m gonna kill half of humanity with my raps.” Gyeongsu rapped, imitating him.

You felt sick. Why were you with them ?

“Hang on, a girl ? We don’t know what the game is.” Namgyu finally said as she tried not to laugh.

“I, Thanos the great, will protect you.” Your brother said, ignoring him.

“Right, Thanos...” The girl said, looking away, seemingly thinking. “So you have all the Infinity Stones ?”

“Of course.” He showed his nails proudly. “I’m gonna destroy anyone who gets in my way !” And took a step closer. “Just stick with me, and you’ll be safe. Okay ?”

“But I already asked someone to join me.”

“No problem.” He replied, rolling his R. “Who is it ?”

The woman looked at all of you before taking a step to the side, showing a smaller man. 125 written on his sweatshirt. He had voted X.

Namgyu sighed as you poked your head from behind Gyeongsu to look at him.

“What’s your name ?” Thanos asked.

“…It’s Minsu.” 125 replied.

“He looks like a freaking dork.” Namgyu argued but Subong ignored him.

“What’s up ? Nice to meet you, my brother.” He said, walking closer to him. “Welcome to the Thanos world.” He grabbed his hand and wrapped an arm around him. Continuing as he pulled away. “You’re cute. Come on.”

You looked at the timer, 1 minute 58 seconds remaining. You sighed, glad you found everyone you needed under the time limit. You used it to present yourselves to Minsu.

When the time was over, everyone sat by groups in the colored circles. Namgyu stared at Minsu while your brother swayed side to side, fidgeting excitedly.

The voice over the PA system announced the rules of the game. Presenting each mini game.

“Number one, ddakji. Number two, flying stone. Number three, gonggi. Number four, spinning top. Number five, jegi. Number six, cham cham cham. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in 6 minutes.

“You guys pick.” Your brother said, not caring at all about what he’ll have to do. You elbowed him and he just looked at you, confused.

The first two teams were ready to start, everyone anxiously staring at them while continuing to pick what mini-game they could do.

“Let the game begin.” The voice said.

“Let’s get it ! Whooo !” Your brother yelled, hyped for it.

The square shot in the air, and the timer began to run.

Everyone watched the two teams play, failing certain mini games repeatedly. And eventually, the 12 of them got shot. Making most of you jump.

Fuck. Could you really make it ?

Namgyu quickly turned to your brother who was in his own world, wiggling and shaking his head. You were breathing heavily, lost in your thoughts.

“I don’t know what the fuck are you talking about.” Subong said a bit loudly, bringing you back to earth.

“If I get nervous and lose the game, we’ll all die. My hands are shaking like crazy.” Namgyu said, showing his hands. He was shaking more than you.

“Namsu.” Your brother started, only to be cut off.

“It’s Namgyu.”

“Right, Namgyu.” He took his cross in his hand. “Do you know what that is ?”

“Ecstasy ? Ketamine ?” Namgyu whispered.

“It’s a new kind. It’s fucking crazy, man. You can’t handle it.”

“Hey.” Namgyu rolled his sleeve, showing a scar on his left arm. “I did all kinds of stuff when I was working at the club. I even bought you some when you came to the club.”

Subong looked around, and opened his cross discreetly, giving him one pill.

“You junkie.”

Namgyu quickly took it, chewing it before swallowing. You simply hoped they wouldn't get too high and fail the games. Praying to any gods to help you.

“What ?” Namgyu asked Minsu who was staring at him, Subong back in his imaginary world.

“Uh, nothing.” Minsu replied awkwardly.

“What’s your name again ?”

“It’s Minsu.”

“Minsu, what’s the famous quote by Admiral Yi Sun Sin ?”

But Minsu didn’t answer. Confused by the question at a time like this.

“‘Those seeking life shall croak. Those seeking death shall live’. So don’t be scared. Just tell yourself that you don’t care if you die. Then we’ll survive, win the money, and get the fuck out.”

“Hey, mind your own business.” Finally said Semi. Gyeongsu looking at the two.

“Me ?” Namgyu asked.

“Yes, you. Mr. Shaky Hands.”

“What’s with the attitude ? We shouldn’t have picked a girl. She’s got an attitude.”

“You’re a prick. You had to pop a pill for your nerves.”

“Fucking bitch.”

“Ah, calm down you two.” You finally said, trying to lower the growing tension among the group.

Then the doors opened. By instinct you leaned to the side to hide behind your brother who put a hand on your knee.

“Don’t worry. I got you.” He said, confidently, trying to reassure you. But with so many guns in the room, it didn’t work.

You watched in silence as the circles got in with big boxes, putting the dead inside. A triangle approached one of them, requested to open it before shooting the person inside twice.

You leaned even closer to your brother, jumping at the gunshots, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“It’ll be our turn soon.” Subong said.

“Shut up.” You whispered. Your forehead against his back. You really wanted to go home.

Then it was the turn to two other groups. Nervously walking toward each mini game, as everyone looked anxiously at them. You all cheered each time the team of the old woman aced a game, tension growing. They had time, they could make it, right ?

Slowly people stood up to cheer for her team, encouraging them, only staying silent to let them play and focus.

You gasped when 120 slapped 044, staring shocked. But everyone cheered again as she succeeded, counting with them the steps to the next game then turning silent.

120 asked everyone to look away, so you all showed her your back, counting the number of kicks. Then cheering.

“One, two ! One, two ! One, two !” You screamed with the team, taking one step after the other toward the finish line. In the end both teams succeeded which shifted the whole mood.

Each passing team was encouraged, the tension was still here but the weight of death wasn’t as heavy as before.

As you were on the starting line and the guards tied your feet together, you tried to ignore them and relax. No timer, no guns, it was just you and your team having fun. You breathed deeply, wrapping your arm around your brother’s shoulders who was completely hyped for it. You tried to imitate him, confidence could get you far after all.

Gyeongsu was first with ddakji, rapidly succeeding after a few failed attempts. Then it was 380’s turn with flying stones. Namgyu was so nervous his knees kept violently shaking, even when cheering. You wondered if he was gonna piss himself.

Minsu’s turn was up with gonggi, while Subong was just vibing while Namgyu was making noises each time the plastic stones were in the air. You swore to kill him if he made Minsu fail a second time.

Then it was his turn, knees still shaking for the spinning top. And he failed twice. 380 got so close to punching him, grabbing him by his sweatshirt and cursing at him. Subong was dancing, throwing his arms in the air a little too close to Namgyu who had to push him away slightly before trying once more, finally succeeding.

It was now your brother’s turn with jegi, which he easily won, kicking 5 times the fluffy ball.

Came your turn. You stared at the circle, facing him, ready for cham cham cham. Your heart was pounding. You tried to go fast, not much time remaining.

Subong was patting your back, either encouraging you or simply vibing to the music in his head.

You didn’t let the losses shake you, breathing loudly, shaking but rapidly starting over until you succeeded, then the circle looked in the same direction you pointed 5 times. You had won.

You cheered, throwing your hands in the air, and you understood why Namgyu’s knees were shaking like that.

Then the team quickly moved forward, crossing the finish line in time and celebrating your victory.

You were fucking alive ! It was hysterical.

You continued shaking, adrenaline rushing through your blood as they unchained your feet, letting you go back to the lobby group by group.

“I told you we’d win !” Subong said, hand squeezing the back of your neck.

You then waited by your brother’s bed for the rest of the groups to come back.

You exhaled slowly, trying to calm yourself, but your brother kept talking about the games, making you relive the emotions.

“I know, I know, I was there, will you stop it ?” You replied, voice shaky with excitement.

“Why ? We did it !” He laughed. “ And a lot of people are gonna die in groups of 6, so we’re gonna get tons of money !” He added with a confident smile.

“Ah, why did you have to remind me that people die ! Seriously !” You groaned, throwing your head back and climbing on the above bed so he wouldn’t talk to you anymore.

More time passed, and more people came back.

Namgyu sighed, upset that so many “animals” had survived. He turned to Minsu, asking him how many he thought remained.

“Sorry ?” Minsu asked.

“How many roaches do you think we have left in here ?”

Minsu looked around, thinking before answering.

“About 200.”

“200 ?” You said quietly, no longer listening. That’s a lot. Why was there only one survivor in the previous games ? Were the games harder ? Or are they gonna become harder now ?

Shortly after, 6 more people came in, 455’s team. And soon, the square with his triangles entered the lobby, congratulating you all for making it through the second game.

You all looked up at the glass piggy as money continued stacking up inside. And as it accumulated, the square announced the number of people who were eliminated, the amount of people remaining and prize money total and the one to share if the majority decided to leave.

Ah, still not enough for your brother’s debts…

You were not the only one disappointed. It was still nowhere near 100 million won. People argued back, insinuating that the pink men counted the dead wrongly, asking to do it again.

“I completely understand your disappointment.” The square replied. “However we always keep the door open for you to pursue new opportunities. You will now take a vote to decide whether to continue the games or not.”

As he said that, the door opened again, the voting machine being pushed in and placed before him.

You thought it was smart of them, making people want to continue by showing how little they earned right before the vote. You wondered if the result was gonna be as tight as the first one.

It started by 001, changing his previous vote to X. You were a bit taken aback, he is the strongest in a fight and is in the team with the previous winner. What is he scared of ?

As the vote continued, your brother patted your back.

“You’re gonna vote O, right lil guy ?” He asked, looking at the numbers growing on each side.

“Of course, we’re gonna win these games.” You said puffing out your chest, smiling. Namgyu turned toward Minsu, telling him to not betray them.

“What ?” Minsu asked, confused.

“That.” Namgyu grabbed the X patch on Minsu’s chest. “We all agreed to play one more game, right ?”

“Yeah.” Minsu replied quietly. It’s clear he didn’t want to.

Once again there was no real big majority, each side always winning my one or two votes. Came your turn, O, then Namgyu and Minsu, both voting O as well.

You were winning by three votes, when suddenly 001 yelled to stop, and to come back to your senses.

Like the first vote, people argued back and forth about dying and having a second chance at life if they survive. And quickly all the Os with you and your brother were screaming “one more game” under the disappointed look of the Xs.

As time went on, an actual big majority happened, 23 votes separating the two sides. You were the winners.

The square announced the result of the vote, adding that the next game will happen tomorrow and the left.

Time went by and pink men came back to give you food, making you wait in line. You thanked them and walked away, following your brother and sitting next to him.

Everyone in the group gathered near, some more quiet than the others, not interested in participating in the discussion. You didn’t speak either.

The adrenaline had worn off and you just felt utterly tired and too hungry to be satisfied with what you got. Thanos noticed you chewing too much for the bites you took and knowing your eating habits, he gave you a third of his soboro bread to help fill your stomach.

You continued eating slowly, trying to trick your own body into thinking you were eating enough before the guards escorted everyone to the bathroom.

As you came out of the stall, your brother along with Namgyu and Gyeongsu were by the crypto YouTuber’s side. Probably annoying him. You approached, listening to their discussion which seemed a little bit too calm compared to their other altercations.

“You’re my slave until you pay me back.” You heard your brother say. “My slave.”

Ah, they’re still after him…

“So you have to keep playing the games until the end. And who knows ? You might win the entire prize alone.” Subong continued before beginning to rap. “Then I will get my money back, and you will get your happiness back.”

“If I win the prize money alone, that’d mean you’re dead.” Replied 333 as Subong thought about his words. “Why would I pay you back if you were dead ?”

True. You nodded slightly.

“How do you even remember your lyrics ?” 333 continued. “Oh, right. You forgot the lyrics in the show’s finale.”

Ouch.

“You son of a bitch. You have a death wish ?” Your brother grabbed him by the throat, pushing him near the entrance.

“Alright Subong, that’s enough.” You said, pulling him away from 333. You glared at Namgyu who was about to put a hand on your shoulder to stop you. You were not going to let him enable your brother.

Subong was about to go back toward the YouTuber when suddenly 390, 001 and 388 entered.

He stared at them then at 333 before looking at you. You shook your head ‘no’ as you looked back at him and at 001. You weren’t sure 001 would be as kind as earlier and let him go again if he picked a fight with him.

“I’m watching you.” Subong finally said, pointing at 333 before walking away. You bowed your head slightly as you passed the three men, quietly apologizing for the trouble.

“If you kill him he’ll never pay what he owes you.” You said, walking next to him back to the lobby. He just hummed, still upset he couldn’t finish him.

“Next time it’s on sight though.” Added Namgyu.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said ?” You asked, turning to look at him. He simply rolled his eyes, ignoring you.

As you entered the lobby, a quiet music was playing, announcing that soon the lights will be off for nighttime.

You told your brother to calm down and sleep and he rubbed your hair.

“Good… night.” He said, posing.

“Ehh, so embarrassing.” You tsked walking away and climbing the ladder to your bed.

“[Name] ! Stop being a brat !” He yelled, pointing at you and you laughed, flipping him off.

Acting shocked by your gesture, he quickly grabbed the ladder and began to climb as well.

You hurried up, not wanting him to catch you, and hid under the sheet. That didn’t stop him from arriving at your level.

“Yo, lil bro.” He said, shaking you. “You really think you can tell me to fuck off ? Huh ?”

Your hand slid out from under the covers, flipping him off once again, more discreetly. He still saw it though, grabbing your hand and squeezing it shut tightly. It was starting to hurt.

“Alright, alright !” You quickly said as you came out from under the covers, trying to pull your hand away from his grip. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t flip you off ever again !” You added, hissing.

He took your second hand, squeezing it as well, making you grimace though you were still smiling.

“Are you sure ?” He asked, leaning closer, your fingers cracking.

“Yesss. I promise. Pinky promise even. Ahhh, let go please !”

He let go of your hands, smiling before rubbing your hair once more.

“Good.” He showed you his right hand, wiggling his pinky. You sighed and groaned with a chuckle, accepting your fate as you made another pinky promise. “Flip me off once more…” He warned.

“And I eat dirt. I know. But if I do…” You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning closer. “I’ll tell mom.” You whispered.

“Ah ! You bastard !” Thanos hit your shoulder as you laughed. “Mom can’t always protect you.”

“Yeah but I’m the favorite, remember ?” You replied, posing cutely. “She’ll be so sad to hear you kicked me, your own poor little brother. The family’s little meow meow.” You pouted, making a sad face.

He sighed, a hand in his hair.

“Fuck off.” He finally said, giving up and climbing down as you chuckled.

“Good… night.” You said, imitating him.

You heard him laugh before replying.

“Hey, sleep with one eye open tonight.”

You woke up once more to the sound of classical music, the PA system telling you to get out of bed quickly before the start of the third game. Ah, you could’ve used some more sleep. Whatever.

You stretched and climbed down, seeing your brother share a pill with Namgyu. You sighed, ignoring them and walked amongst the others, waking your legs.

In the long and narrow corridors, Subong and Namgyu were already hyped, joking together. Whatever deadly game was coming, they didn’t care.

You entered a big room with lots of colored doors, with some kind of round platform in the middle. As you got in, the name of the game got announced.

“Woah, we’ll be mingling together !” Said Subong excitedly looking at the group. “Doesn’t that sound like so much fun ?”

Only Namgyu seemed happy about it, jumping forward instead of walking.

The voice told the rules, repeating itself once more so everyone had heard and understood.

Soon the game started, the platform turning on itself with a song playing on the speakers. Round and Round.

You tried to relax, ready for the voice to announce the number while your brother was shaking his arm in the air, enjoying himself.

The song and the platform stopped suddenly, almost making you fall over.

“Ten.”

You quickly looked at your group, a 30 seconds timer playing. You grabbed the person behind your back as your brother, Namgyu and Semi did the same while taking Minsu and Gyeongsu with you, holding onto each other as you rushed inside a small room.

You looked through the small hole in the door, watching as the remaining people were shot, before being placed inside boxes. The doors unlocked themselves, allowing you to walk out.

You went back on the platform, staring at the puddles of blood splattered on the floor. Your stomach doing a flip.

The song started over, Namgyu and Subong locking arms and dancing.

“Five.”

You stared at your group. You were 6. You saw your brother look at Minsu and Gyeongsu, hesitating before stopping and only looking at him.

“Please…” Gyeongsu said, scared.

“Gyeongsu, you’re out !” Subong finally said, kicking him in the stomach. “Let’s go ! Whooo !” He rushed away, grabbing your arm as you looked at Gyeongsu, shocked. 380 grabbed Minsu who was also standing still.

“Wait- Gyeongsu !” Minsu yelled, wanting to help him as he was pulled away and into another small room, door locking behind him.

“Namgyu, what happened to Gyeongsu ?” Minsu asked as you stared at your brother, unable to wrap your head around what happened.

“Minsu, you fucker.” Namgyu replied, hitting his chest. “Talk to me like I’m your friend again, and I’ll leave you out there next time.”

“Wait !” Subong raised his arms, gaining the attention of everyone. “Where did you leave my boy Gyeongsu ?

You looked at him, utterly confused, as you were about to reply, gunshots and screaming were heard. He brought his hands to his head as he tried to remember what happened.

He suddenly pushed Namgyu to the side, looking through the hole.

“Fuck ! Gyeongsu !” He yelled, horrified.

You stared at him like he had grown a second head.

The doors were unlocked after a couple minutes and you slowly walked out, more blood on the floor, it was hard to not walk on it.

Minsu was distraught by it as well, looking at a puddle by his feet.

“Hey Minsu ! Come on, my boy, come on !” Your brother called him, waving at him to join the group.

It was time for another round, now there were less people on the platform as it began to turn once more.

“Three.”

Subong turned to look at you to grab you and Namgyu but you had disappeared.

With the way he was acting, you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t afraid of what he could do. Not wanting the same fate as Gyeongsu, you left to find two players to go with you.

You were holding one by the hand, frantically looking for one more person. That’s when you saw Semi alone. You grabbed her as well and rushed to a room, closing the door behind you.

Shaking, you tried to calm down, heart pounding. Semi stared at you. The sound of gunshots echoed again and then the voice over the speaker announced the players that had died as circles were putting them in boxes.

The doors reopened and you walked out, fidgeting with your fingers. When is this going to end ? You and 380 noticed Minsu, who stared at her with a relieved expression.

As you went to the platform again, you tried to blend with the other players so your brother wouldn’t find you. Which didn’t work.

“Where did you wander off to ? I thought you died !” He said, frowning, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

The platform began moving again but after a few seconds only it stopped.

“Six.”

You knew you couldn’t find 5 people in only 30 seconds, so you stayed with them to find 2 more, before rushing inside yet another small room.

As the doors unlocked after some time, you walked out, almost slipping on a puddle of blood. You felt sick and didn’t know if you could keep trusting your own brother.

“Now, the final round.” The woman on the PA system said.

“Fucking finally.” You whispered as you bent down, hands on your knees, tired of it.

The platform began to move, one last time, Round and Round still playing.

“Two.”

Subong’s head was shaking, cartoonishly looking at you, Namgyu and Minsu. You rolled your eyes and grabbed Minsu, rushing away, closing the door behind you two.

You should’ve known this would happen.

When you were finally allowed to walk out and into the corridors, you didn’t wait for Subong. You were one of the firsts entering the lobby before climbing to your bed. You sighed, at least you made it out alive.

You saw your brother arrive with Namgyu, rushing to Minsu’s side, hugging him energetically. You rolled your eyes, falling backward on your bed, closing your eyes.

Barely a minute after, you heard someone climb your ladder.

“Hey bro. Why did you leave like that ?” Subong asked. “You even wandered off in the middle of the game !”

You ignored him, turning to face the other side.

“Ah, don’t be like that. I knew you’d survive.”

“Go away. I’m voting X.”

“Oh come on, don’t do that.” He whined, a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly.

“Picking that guy over your own fucking brother ? No, no, I understand.” You scoffed, refusing to look at him.

“Heyy, you picked Minsu first.” He said. You could hear his smile in his voice. He was still not taking this seriously.

“Your ass was not about to pick me, don’t fucking lie.”

“I was !”

“Is that what you told Minsu too when you got back here ? My boy, I thought I was with you but turns out it was this bastard.” You said, imitating his voice.

“I’m serious ! I was really gonna pick you !”

“Right. Go away, please.”

You heard him sigh, probably running a hand through his hair. Why were you so stingy about it, you survived.

“You’re gonna tell mom ?” He asked, trying to make you laugh. But you said nothing instead, ignoring him again.

He huffed, patting your shoulder before climbing down and going back to Namgyu and Minsu.

You stayed like this for a moment, trying to calm your nerves until the square and his triangles came in. He congratulated you all once more, announcing the results of the third game.

356 million won were accumulated in that glass piggy.

“The vote will once again be conducted in reverse order of your player numbers.” The square said, the voting machine now installed. “Player 456, please cast your vote.”

As the vote went on, you watched as Semi picked X. You looked to the side where your brother was. He was looking at her, making a ‘watching you’ sign with his hands. You smiled before wondering if you could really pick X as well. Subong’s money plus yours would equal 712 million won. Still not enough for his debts, even if you add player 333’s gain.

And as much as you were mad at your brother, you came here to help, not abandon him.

God this was giving you a headache.

The vote continued, your brother skipping to the buttons, kissing the O before turning around to scream while making a circle with his arms.

“Circle ! Let’s go !”

You sighed. You just wanted to go home.

Then it was Minsu’s turn to vote, choosing X. That surprised you.

Namgyu’s turn came right after him, and with no surprises he chose O again.

You did the same, though you had hesitated a few seconds before the buttons. Fuck it, we ball, eh ?

“I knew you’d do the right thing.” Subong whispered to you as you passed next to him to climb to your bed. But you didn’t say anything.

The scores were tight, no side truly getting ahead of the other.

Then the Os were winning again, 50 against 49.

Only 001 remained. His vote barely mattered. It’ll either make a tie or reinforce the Os.

It ended in a tie. Which means the vote will happen again.

Ah, you really didn’t wanna do it. You stayed on your bed until the circles came back with food. You climbed down, and waited in line for a bottle of coke and gimbap rolled up in tin foil.

Subong stopped before you, but you continued walking, passing next to him.

He rushed after you, handing you half of his gimbap.

“Don’t want it.” You said, not looking at him.

“Come on, I know you’re hungry. Take it. I’m sorry.”

“Give it to your new brother.” You replied before climbing to your bed.

As you were eating and drinking calmly on your own, the Xs called the Os to change their vote, saying they’d invite him for some beef and noodles.

Oh, how you wanted to change your vote. Beef and noodles…

The Xs didn’t take this kindly, arguing back until both sides were at each other's throat though they never crossed the red and blue lines separating them.

Slowly the chaos died down, and people were led to the bathroom. You decided to go as well, since you saw both Subong and 333 walk out. Seeing how it went last time, you knew it would end the same way. And if you or 001 wasn’t here to stop Subong, it could end really badly.

“Ah, that bastard.”

You were waiting by the exit door, watching, ready to leave once your brother and Namgyu were done talking to Minsu hiding in the stall. 333 was doing his thing. Everything was well.

But things escalated quickly, the YouTuber interrupted them to protect Minsu’s vote.

They faced and threatened each other, gathering Os and Xs behind themselves. Soon, Minsu rushed out of the stall, hiding behind others Xs.

You stayed by the door, not wanting to have anything to do with it, especially at this scale. You could handle your brother fighting but not a handful of men.

Then, of course, a fight erupted, 333 throwing himself at your brother who quickly sent him to the floor before punching him. Amidst the chaos, you moved closer to them, ready to pull Subong away.

As they strangled each other, you saw 333 take something out of his pocket and quickly you grabbed Subong, pulling him from behind. But that bastard was strong, resisting.

You let go of him before putting all your strength into one more pull, 333 stabbing the air as you and Subong fell on your back, your brother landing on you.

Before he could ask you why you did that, 333 threw himself on him once more, successfully stabbing his left arm and his right hand.

Luckily, your brother was stronger, pushing him off and standing up quickly again, kicking him in the head and stomach.

You stood up as well and pulled your brother with you, walking out of the bathroom. He argued back, wanting to continue the fight and kill him.

You refused to let go of him, both pulling in different directions. You accidentally let go of him and he hurried back to the bathroom until you grabbed him by his hair. He let out a scream of pain before doing the same to you with his unharmed hand. Both holding a fist full of hair.

“Come on, stop it !” You yelled, grunting, trying to move your head toward his hand so it wouldn’t hurt you too much.

“You fucking stop it ! Why are you against me ?!”

“Because you’re being fucking dumb !” You winced. “You want to make mom proud !? Don’t fucking kill anyone, that’ll- That’ll fucking help !”

“Let go of me !”

“Not before you calm down !” You pulled his hair harder. “I’m not fucking stopping until you go back to the lobby !”

“Ah ! Fucking bastard !” He yelled, hissing, before finally letting go of you. “Okay I did it, let go of me ! It fucking hurts ! Come on, bro !”

You waited a few seconds before finally pulling away, he rubbed his head, soothing where it was hurting as you did the same. Fuck, maybe you should shave your head so it wouldn’t happen again.

“You.” He pointed at you, approaching. “Why the fuck did you stop me ? Mh ? You should have my back at all times !”

“I fucking do !” You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I told you. Do you think mom would be happy to hear how you egged Minsu to vote O, or how you harassed that crypto bastard, nearly killing him ? Or how you pushed those three people to their death during Green light, red light ! I haven’t forgotten ! Or Gyeongsu !”

“Alright, I get it ! Shut up !” He put his hands on his forehead, frowning. He barely remembered what he did. Did he really push three people ? Was it him who killed Gyeongsu ?

“I know you don’t care about dad, I don’t either, but if you go back there and kill that bastard, everything he said about you would turn out true.”

“I said I get it ! Shut your fucking mouth !”

You stared at each other in silence, regaining your calm slowly.

“It fucking scared me, dude.” You started. “That shit you take- After Gyeongsu I thought you’d get me killed as well. That’s why I took Minsu with me when you hesitated.”

“Okay ! I know, I’m sorry !”

You huffed. God, you wanted to punch him.

“Do I have to drag your ass back to the lobby or are you gonna walk with me ?”

“Guys !” You heard coming from behind you two. “Oh my god, guys, you’re here !” Namgyu. You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I got MG Coin’s fork !” He said, rushing to your side, showing it off.

Subong took it quickly, looking at the tines.

“It got my fucking blood on it !”

“Thanos.” You glared at him, warning him. He stared at you, surprised to hear you call him by his stage name.

He gave the fork back to Namgyu with an annoyed sigh, making his way down the long corridors.

“Let’s go.” He said, waving at you two to follow him.

Crossing your arms you walked behind him until you reached the lobby’s door.

As Namgyu entered, he yelled that the Xs had attacked you three, nearly killing your brother and successfully killing more people.

Both sides slowly approached as Namgyu continued to lie about what actually happened. You walked away from them, going to your bed as you looked at Subong, giving him a ‘watching you’ sign with your hand before climbing up the ladder.

Soon after, the rest of the people in the bathroom arrived, the Xs quickly argued back, defending themselves and trying to spread the truth but the Os refused to believe them.

The old man, 100, stopped them, asking which side had lost more men, stunning everyone into silence. That’s right, which side ?

Quickly the Xs and Os gathered to count themselves. You stayed on your bed, not really caring if your side had lost more. You knew the result would influence directly on the result of the vote tomorrow, but you didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to go home with your pain in the ass brother.

Your back against the wall, you were already dozing off when the voice over the speakers spoke, telling you to return to bed for nighttime, the lights turning off in 30 minutes.

Slowly the two big groups separated themselves into smaller ones as they rejoined their bed. Continuing talking until the last few minutes of light.

You were practically asleep when you felt your bed shake, someone climbing up the ladder. You groaned, already guessing who it was.

“[Name].” Subong said, shaking you. “You have to get down.”

“No.” You replied quietly, tired.

“They are planning to attack the other side, Namsu and some others have forks but so does the Xs. You can’t stay in the open.”

You sighed, sitting up.

“Huh ?”

“Come with me. We have to hide.”

“You’re not gonna participate in the fight ? Really ? Not even to try and kill crypto man ?”

He shook his head ‘no’ though it was evident he wanted to take part in it.

“Gotta protect my little brother.” He replied, pinching your cheek.

You slapped his hand away, groaning.

“Stop that, I’m not a baby.” You said, but he ignored you, climbing down.

“Come, quickly.”

You groaned, following him. Why did they want to kill each other like that when the games were already doing it ?

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…” The voice over the speaker counted.

As you reached the floor, the lights were out. Subong grabbed your arm, pulling you with him, quietly searching for a hiding spot.

“Under the beds, on the floor.” You whispered as you went down, crawling.

He followed you, lying on his stomach next to you as you tried to see what was going on.

You heard a scream from the X side, then rushed footsteps and more screaming. The lights began flickering as chaos quickly followed, everyone fighting. Punching, kicking, stabbing. Killing.

“Don’t make a sound.” Your brother whispered, his hand on your back.

After what could be 5 minutes, the lights were back on again as a group of triangles with a square entered, shooting in the air to stop the fight.

They walked in, aiming at everyone standing up, making sure they stayed still before scanning the dead.

Your eyes widened when you saw 456 grab a triangle and steal his gun, killing the pink man, followed by more people doing so.

You and Thanos looked at each other, confused.

“What the fuck ?” He said and you shushed him rapidly.

You watched from under the bed as the triangles retreated, leaving behind them the square. An X tried to kill the Os remaining with his gun, but 456 stopped him, before yelling, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Everyone ! Don’t be scared ! Gather round, please !”

Subong shook his head, silently telling you to not move and stay hidden.

“It’s okay to come out !” Another man yelled.

“We’re not trying to hurt you !” 456 continued. Then you heard gunshots again.

It was 120 shooting the cameras.

Soon, everyone except you two was standing up, out of their hiding spot as they gathered guns and ammo in the middle of the room.

“Everyone.” 456 started again. “We will now head up to the masked men’s headquarters. We’ll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay !”

You watched as each member of his team was holding a gun.

“Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward. You tried to make yourself smaller, fearing to be seen even though you were still hiding.

“Hey. I know you’re scared.” Began 390. “I’m scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together.”

“I’ll fight with you.” Said a man, quickly followed by others.

You grabbed Subong’s sweatshirt. Though he didn’t know how to use a gun, except in video games, you believed him dumb enough to try and go with them.

“I’m not gonna go.” He whispered.

“Are you sure ?”

“I’m not dumb.”

“Are you sure ?” You repeated again, smiling. He tsked, pushing your hand away.

“Ah, they left.”

You looked toward the front, no longer seeing 456 and his team. You sighed, relieved.

Now what ?

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