#(and all the other children he comes across)

[fancyfeathers]

Okay so I see a lot of Yandere!Batfam with a darling who is one of the children in the family but what I don’t see is Yandere!Batfam with two darlings, a single mother with a daughter.

Based on this quick post I made (link)

Like just picture the mother!darling being a rich sweetheart of Bruce Wayne’s at one point, perhaps even being his fiancé bit was the engagement was called off by her because of his work as Batman. She did not want her husband keeping secrets from her, and then imagine if they had a child one day, what sort of life would it be for them?

Well that question certainly comes to life when she finds out she is pregnant just days after leaving Bruce. She has far too much pride to go back to him and scared what life her baby would live with their father being in danger every night. She gives birth and raises her daughter herself, beginning to travel in the world for her work, leaving Gotham just as Bruce takes in Dick Grayson.

Years go by and she raises her own child and Bruce takes in his own children. Of course they hear about each other in the press but really have not paid much mind until she is back in Gotham, attending a charity event at a hotel. Her daughter is up in their hotel room, asleep or so she hopes anyway, and she is sipping on a glass of champagne while making meaningless small talk and then like as if out of a scene from a movie both she and Bruce spot each other from across the room. Conversation between the two is unavoidable especially with Dick trying to push the two together but it is sour quickly with her quietly chewing him out for choosing his vigilante identity over her and-

“Ma’am, your daughter just woke up, a nightmare.”

The conversation is cut short by one of the hotel staff speaking out to her while holding a little girl’s hand who is standing there in her nightgown, eyes full of tears while she clutches her stuffed animal. Bruce just watches as his ex-fiancé takes care of her daughter, his daughter, excusing herself from the party to put her back to bed. Then when the end of the party comes and people have started to leave he finds her again and asks her the question…

“Is she mine? Your daughter…”

“…Yes… she is… I-I am sorry Bruce, I have to go.”

She runs off upstairs and he is just left there starstruck and with his own kids not too far away and listening into their conversation. So when they all arrive back at the manor Bruce is due to give an explanation about the woman who is the mother of Bruce’s daughter, Damian’s half sister, and who might as well be the little sister of the rest of the lot.

So with a bit of planning the kids come up with a way to add a few people into their family, a mother and a little sister…

Dick goes to visit them at the hotel, calling beforehand and asking her to meet husband in the hotel lounge to talk. He tries to convince her to come back, her daughter needs to know who her father and brothers are, and Bruce misses her and she cannot deny that she love Bruce at one point and-

That plan goes up in flames as she runs upstairs, rejecting Dick’s idea.

Then that falls to plan B with Jason.

This wasn’t actually intended to be a plan, just Jason keeping an eye on the little girl from afar to make sure nothing happened to her while she was out with her nanny, after all Gotham is a dangerous place. She and her nanny were just supposed to be out running errands before they leave Gotham but she just happened to be separated from the nanny and alone in the dangerous streets. It is only a matter of time before someone tries to snatch her up, the daughter of a rich woman, she would be perfect to hold for ransom. Luckily Jason, or rather, Red Hood is there in time to save her, telling her to go in the corner and cover her eyes while he deals with them. He hushes her as he wraps her up in his jacket, telling her to keep her eyes shut as he carries her out of there, he doesn’t want her to see the pools of blood he is walking through as he is carrying his little sister out of there.

Then when he returns to Wayne Manor with her, Damian looks after her while Jason explains what happened to Bruce. It isn’t safe for them, she could have been killed or worse if it wasn’t for him. Eventually Bruce caves and agrees to their plan of getting them both back.

Bruce goes to go see his ex-fiancé who is in a state of panic because her daughter is missing. Bruce sits her down and tells her daughter is safe and taken care of at Wayne Manor but there is a problem, her daughter’s kidnapping will be seen as child neglect if Bruce chose to file for custody of his daughter. If that was not enough to get her cave in he shows her a file of blackmail Tim had gathered on her which also shows old not look good to the court, so he asks her one thing with only one answer to it…

“Will you marry me?”

“…fine…”

Then not to far down the line there is a white wedding that should have happened years ago, and as Bruce and his wife exchange rings, say I do, and kiss, their children watch…

Her daughter is not a fool, she knows something wrong, she just has no way of telling anyone as Dick holds her on his hip as if she weighs nothing, and Jason fixes her flower girl dress for the pictures that Tim is already taking and has been throughout the ceremony.

[capquinn]

Hi!!! Can we daydream about Quinn with his gf/wife and little kids at family skate, and he is so sweet and has fun with the kids but then he also spends time just skating with his girl and just how adorable it would all be

The rink is buzzing with laughter and chatter, a lively hum that echoes across the ice as families skate together under the bright, friendly glow of the arena lights. It’s a Canucks family skate, and the atmosphere is nothing short of joyful chaos. Around you, players glide alongside their partners and children, laughter and the occasional squeal of excitement filling the air as little ones attempt their first steps on the ice, bundled up in tiny team jerseys, their skates barely steady on the surface.

You linger by the boards, your baby boy nestled in the crook of your arm, his gaze fixed intently on the skaters zooming past, his eyes wide with wonder. He’s completely captivated, his little neck craning as he tries to take in every bit of movement. Every now and then, he lets out an excited coo, his small hands flailing and reaching as if he wants to join in, enchanted by the way everyone glides over the ice.

Around the rink, you spot a few familiar faces — teammates sharing laughs with their families, some holding hands with their significant others, others carefully guiding their wobbly-legged kids in little skates, everyone wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. You can see Brock pulling his young niece around the ice, her giggles ringing out as he lifts her up to help her “fly.” Nearby, Elias is gliding hand in hand with his girlfriend, and every now and then, he spins her around, both of them laughing in easy, joyful abandon.

But your eyes keep drifting back to Quinn, who’s just a few feet away, moving slowly across the ice with your three-year-old daughter. She’s bundled in her Canucks beanie and a tiny jersey, her skates clumsy but determined as she tries to match her dad’s easy, practiced rhythm. Quinn holds both of her hands, his head bent as he whispers something encouraging to her, laughing softly as her little legs flail with each wobbly attempt to glide.

He glances over at you, a wide grin spreading across his face as he meets your eyes, sharing in the hilarity of your daughter’s determined yet wobbly attempts. You catch his look and laugh, sharing an amused shake of your head. He’s practically beaming, every inch the proud, doting dad, and he keeps pointing things out to her, like, “see, you’re skating just like daddy!”

Your daughter giggles, her gaze flickering over to you, and she waves a little hand, calling out, “mommy, look! I’m skating!”

You give her an encouraging wave back, smiling.

“You’re doing so good!” you call out, even as you stay firmly planted by the boards, not entirely confident in your skating skills while holding a baby.

“Come on, mommy!” She beckons, twisting her neck to look at you as her feet take her in the opposite direction. But Quinn’s grip on her is steady, and he’s there to keep her upright.

Quinn seems to sense your hesitation and guides your daughter to the boards for a quick break.

“You sure you don’t want to give it a try?” he teases, stopping just in front of you, an easy and familiar smile on his face.

Your gaze lingers on the ice, shifting your weight, holding the baby close, and he senses your hesitation. You don’t trust yourself not to fall. When catch you catch his eye, he gives you a soft, reassuring smile before bending down to steady your daughter, guiding her to stand firmly between his legs for balance.

“Stay right here, Bug,” he murmurs, letting go of her little hands once she’s stable. “I’ll take him,” he says without hesitation, and with a smooth motion, extends his arms to take the baby from you, the warmth in his eyes instantly putting you at ease.

You carefully hand your son over, watching as Quinn settles him into the crook of his arm with practiced ease. Against his chest, the baby looks even tinier, his round cheeks pink from the chill and his little eyes wide as he gazes up at his dad. His tiny knitted beanie is slightly askew, and you reach over to adjust it, tucking it snugly over his ears.

“All set?” you ask, smiling down at your baby boy as he wriggles in Quinn’s hold, seemingly content in his father’s arms.

Quinn nods, his eyes soft as he glances down at your daughter, who’s still holding her ground between his legs, balancing on her skates with a proud little grin. “Time to show mom how it’s done,” he tells her.

You kneel down, grinning as you hold your hands out to your daughter. “You ready, Bug?”

She nods enthusiastically, her small, gloved hands slipping into yours, her excitement almost tangible as she steadies herself, her eyes sparkling at the thought of being on the ice with both her mom and dad. You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of warmth and love as the four of you set out, moving as a little cluster of family, Quinn leading with careful, steady strides while you and your daughter follow close behind, each wobbly step punctuated with laughter and encouragement.

As you make your way towards center ice, a couple of Quinn’s teammates glide over, laughter in their eyes as they take in the sight of your little family on the ice. JT is among them, his own kids in tow, and your daughter’s face lights up the moment she spots him.

“Uncle J!” she calls out, waving her little mittened hand enthusiastically. Her balance wobbles, and whilst you’re grasping both hands, Quinn instinctively reaches out to steady her with a gentle hand on her back, grinning at her excitement.

JT chuckles, leaning down to your daughter’s level as he glides to a stop beside you all. “Look at you out here,” he says, eyes twinkling as he gives her a high five. “Practicing for the big leagues already?”

She giggles, puffing out her chest with pride as she says, “daddy’s teaching me!”

JT chuckles. “Alright, show me what you’ve got.”

She giggles again, letting go of one of your hands and wobbling a little as she lifts one skate, trying her best to glide.

JT laughs, clapping his hands. “You’re a natural.”

But before he can say more, your daughter tugs on your hand, her face bright with determination, fuelled by the compliment.

“C’mon, mommy, let’s go,” she urges, eager to keep moving and practicing, already pulling you along with her, her little legs working hard to stay upright.

You exchange a quick, amused look with JT, who winks at you, before you let your eldest lead the way, her enthusiasm carrying you across the ice.

Quinn takes a quick moment to adjust your son in his arm, proudly showing him off to JT, who leans in with a warm smile, giving the baby an affectionate wave. “Look at this little guy,” he chuckles, clearly charmed.

“Daddy!” your daughter calls, her voice bright and insistent, as if to say, Hurry up!

“Enjoy it,” JT says simply, his voice warm with understanding as he glances at Quinn with a knowing smile.

Quinn nods, a quiet, grateful look crossing his face, before he catches up to you and your daughter.

The rink is a blur of people around you, but in this moment, it feels like it’s just the four of you, taking your time and enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. Your daughter’s giggles echo as she finds her rhythm, her little legs wobbling but steadier than when she first began, each stride more confident than the last. Her grip loosens on your hands until, with a small, determined breath, she lets go, pushing forward on her own, her arms outstretched as she glides a few cautious feet ahead of you.

With your daughter skating just ahead, you lean into Quinn, wrapping a hand around his bicep, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath your fingers. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shifts slightly, his arm coming around to rest against your back, steering you gently as the two of you fall into a comfortable, slow pace behind her, perfectly content to just be here, watching her take these little steps of independence.

“She’s getting so big,” you murmur, a smile in your voice, though there’s a faint catch as you take in the sight of her moving so confidently ahead.

Quinn nods, his gaze fixed on her, his jaw tightening just slightly as his expression softens with quiet pride. “Yeah,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his voice carrying a quiet awe. “Look at her go.”

There’s a hint of wonder in his tone, as if he’s marveling at where the last three years have gone, his baby girl now a fierce, independent spirit with a strength all her own. He holds you a little closer, his hand warm and steady against your back, and for a moment, you both fall into silence, taking in the simple beauty of watching her grow.

But then, her skate catches a rough patch of ice, and her arms flail as she loses balance. For a split second, her expression shifts from confidence to a startled shock as she tips forward, her legs slipping out from under her.

The second Quinn sees her stumble, his whole body tenses. Without a word, he turns to you, carefully but swiftly handing over your son, his arms steady but urgent as he transfers the baby into your hold.

“You good?” he murmurs softly, his eyes meeting yours briefly, a flicker of worry crossing his face as he makes sure you’re steady.

Once satisfied, he’s back to her side in an instant, his strides quick and sure. He crouches down to her level, his hand already reaching out before she even has a chance to process what’s happened.

“Hey, Bug, you okay?” he asks, his voice warm and soothing, though you can catch the subtle glimmer of worry in his eyes as he scans her little face.

Your daughter blinks up at him, her eyes wide, looking more surprised than hurt. Quinn lets out a quiet breath, relief softening his expression, and he offers her a gentle smile, brushing a hand over her cheek.

“Just a little slip, huh?” he murmurs, his tone full of calm reassurance. “Daddy’s got you.”

She nods, a small, tentative smile forming as her fingers curl around his hand, finding comfort in his presence. Quinn helps her up, his hands gentle as he steadies her skates, keeping a close eye on her as she stands. He stays right by her side, his hand resting lightly on her back, offering that familiar, encouraging smile that seems to say, I’m right here.

As she takes a tentative step forward, he glances back at you, his expression softening as he catches your eye. You share a small, knowing smile, the both of you silently acknowledging the preciousness of this moment before Quinn shifts his full attention back to your daughter, ready to help her try again.

With a little encouragement from Quinn, your daughter finds her balance once more, her determination quickly returning as she gives skating another try. She beams up at him, her confidence growing with each little glide, and Quinn chuckles softly, staying close as she takes her next careful steps forward.

Just as you’re all settling back into the rhythm, one of the team photographers skates over with a warm smile, camera in hand. “Mind if I grab a quick family photo?” he asks, nodding towards your little family.

Quinn glances at his daughter, his eyes bright with that familiar, playful glint. “What do you think, Bug?” he says. “Wanna take a picture?”

She giggles, nodding eagerly, and Quinn leans down, scooping her up with ease.

With your daughter perched securely in Quinn’s arms, her little hands wrapped around his neck and her head leaning happily against his shoulder, you feel the warmth of his free arm slipping around your waist, drawing you in close. Your baby boy is snug in your arms, his tiny eyes wide with fascination as he stares up at his dad.

The team photographer raises his camera. “Alright, you all ready?“

Quinn chuckles, looking at you with a familiar smile before turning his gaze to your daughter, who beams up at him, her little face alight with pure happiness. “Smile big, Bug,” he says, giving her a gentle squeeze, which makes her giggle, her tiny hand reaching to hold onto his cheek.

As the photographer counts down, Quinn’s grip around your waist tightens slightly, pulling you in until you’re all snug together, a little family unit beaming with laughter and joy. Your daughter giggles just as the camera clicks, and Quinn glances down at you, eyes shining with a quiet happiness.

The photographer snaps a few more shots, capturing every detail: Quinn’s protective hold on both you and your daughter, the little one nestled close against your shoulder, and the pure joy radiating from each of you. It’s a snapshot of a moment you know you’ll cherish forever — the four of you, sharing a perfect, happy moment on the ice, a memory of love and warmth that will stay with you always.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[lvmoure]

ATLANTIS CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x pregnant!reader

Summary: In which he was too late

Warnings: angst, miscarriage

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of your apartment, a golden warmth that felt at odds with the cold knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. You sat at the kitchen table, staring at the small white plastic stick in your hand as if it would suddenly change its mind. The words on it were undeniable, though—bold and clear. You were pregnant.

For a moment, everything felt still, like time had decided to hold its breath along with you. Your heart hammered in your chest, loud enough to echo in your ears, yet the rest of the world seemed so quiet. It felt as if you were trapped between two realities—one where you were the same person you had been just a few days ago and another where this tiny, growing life inside you would change everything.

You knew exactly what this meant. Your mind raced through the tangled maze of questions. What would Carlos think? What would he do? The two of you had never discussed children—not seriously, anyway. Sure, you’d talked about the future in vague terms, but when it came to family, he had always been clear. He wasn't ready, he wasn't sure he wanted them. He was focused on his career, his racing. His life was full of ambition and passion for a world that didn’t leave room for a baby, let alone a family.

But here you were, pregnant.

Your breath hitched as you glanced at the clock. Carlos would be home soon. You had no idea how you were going to tell him. How do you share news like this? The kind of news that could make or break everything you thought you knew about each other? You had hoped the moment would never come, or maybe that you'd be able to convince yourself it was a mistake, that maybe those two lines weren’t as clear as they seemed. But deep down, you knew they were real.

You tried to imagine his reaction. Would he be angry? Would he be scared? Would he think this was something you had planned all along, to trap him into something he didn’t want? The thought sent a chill through you. Carlos wasn't like that. He wasn't someone to dismiss your feelings, but you knew he wouldn’t take kindly to something that disrupted his carefully mapped out future.

His career, his freedom—it was all he had worked for, and now it felt like it was all on the line.

You stared at your reflection in the window, watching your own face morph into one of uncertainty. You didn’t know how to navigate this conversation, how to make him understand. You weren’t ready for this either, but this was reality now. And the hardest part was telling him.

When the door clicked open, Carlos stepped into the apartment, his familiar scent filling the room. You looked up, your stomach tightening as his eyes met yours.

"Hey," he said, setting his helmet and racing gear down in the hallway before walking over to you. His smile was soft, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, not like it usually did. There was something on your face that made him pause. Something was wrong.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, but you could hear the edge of hesitation in it. He knew you too well.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each passing second. "Carlos," you began, your voice unsteady, "there’s something I need to tell you."

His eyes softened as he sat across from you, his hand gently brushing yours. "You’re scaring me, what’s wrong?"

You looked at the pregnancy test again, then back at him, feeling your hands tremble.

"I’m pregnant."

His face fell silent for a long moment. The words hung in the air, their weight crushing you. You watched his eyes search your face as if trying to decipher if you were joking, but you couldn’t find any humor in this moment, no lightness. This wasn’t a joke.

His expression shifted, his lips tightening. His hands hovered over the table, unsure whether to reach out or pull away.

"You’re sure?" His voice was low, almost like he didn’t want to hear the answer.

You nodded, suddenly feeling smaller, as if the space between you two had doubled in size.

"I’m sure," you whispered, the weight of the admission pushing down on your chest. "Carlos, I—"

"Wait," he interrupted, his eyes now narrowing slightly, "are you telling me that you… that we…?" He trailed off, visibly processing what you had said. "But we never—"

"I know," you said quickly, your heart pounding in your ears. "I didn’t expect this either, but it’s real."

A heavy silence fell between you, and Carlos sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, the tension in his posture growing with every passing second.

"How are we supposed to—" He broke off, his voice suddenly sharp. "You know I’m not ready for this. You know that."

You flinched at the words, though they weren’t said cruelly. He was upset, overwhelmed even. But they cut deep.

"Do you think I’m ready for this?" you asked softly, your voice shaking. "Carlos, I didn’t plan this. But this is happening. And I need you to—"

"I can’t," he cut you off, his tone now more forceful. "I can’t just drop everything for this. I have my career, my goals. I can’t throw all of that away now."

Your heart shattered, the weight of his words crashing down on you. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. The fear, the hurt—it all bubbled up in an overwhelming rush. "Carlos, this isn’t about you throwing everything away. It’s about us figuring this out together. I’m not asking you to throw everything away. I’m asking for your support."

But he shook his head, his jaw tight. "I don’t know if I can give that to you."

The room seemed to close in on you. Your breath was shallow, each word he spoke pressing harder against your chest. "So, what? You’re just going to walk away? You’re going to ignore everything we’ve built because of one mistake?"

"It’s not a mistake," he snapped. "But it is something I wasn’t prepared for. And I don’t think I can be."

The pain in your chest turned into something darker, deeper. The reality of the situation was settling in, and it was suffocating you. You stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back. "I never wanted this to be a fight," you whispered. "I just wanted you to understand."

Carlos stood too, his face a mix of frustration and regret. "I need time to think, okay?" His words were softer now, almost a plea for space. But it wasn’t the space you wanted.

"Time?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. "How much time do you need to decide if we’re going to have a child? How much time do you need to decide if we’re going to have a future?"

Without another word, Carlos turned and walked away, leaving you in the suffocating silence of the apartment. The stillness that followed was deafening, and all you could do was sit there, your hand still clutching the test, the reality of it all crashing down around you.

Carlos’ hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than he realized as he drove away from the apartment. The tires of the car hummed on the asphalt, the road stretching endlessly before him, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess. His breath was ragged, his chest tight with confusion. The words you’d said, the look in your eyes, the way you held the pregnancy test as if it were both a lifeline and a curse—everything had blurred together into a painful knot in his stomach.

He had asked for time, needed it—desperately. Time to breathe, time to think. But the truth was, Carlos didn’t know what to think. His mind kept spiraling, trying to reason his way through something that felt so far beyond logic.

He loved you, that much was certain. But that love had never once been tied to thoughts of starting a family, to the idea of being a father. He wasn’t ready for that. He had spent his life working towards something that didn’t leave room for the responsibilities of parenthood.

But then, he saw the look on your face. He could still feel the hurt in your voice, the way you tried to explain that this wasn’t something you wanted either, but it was real. And now, he had to figure out how to navigate this.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Carlos parked his car in front of his father's house. The familiar warmth of the home did little to ease the tension that had built up inside him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt lost. He needed someone who could help him make sense of all this.

Carlos had always been close to his father, Carlos Sainz Sr. A man who had seen both triumphs and defeats in the world of motorsport. He knew what it was like to struggle, to fight for something you believed in, but he also knew what it meant to be a man of integrity, to face your responsibilities head-on. It was that kind of wisdom Carlos needed now.

He didn’t knock. His father’s house was always open to him, no matter what time of day it was. Carlos let himself in, finding his father in the kitchen, preparing a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Papa," Carlos said, his voice a bit hoarse as he leaned against the doorway.

Carlos Sainz Sr. looked up from his cup, his expression unreadable at first. But then, he saw the look in his son’s eyes. The kind of look that spoke volumes about a thousand unsaid things.

"Hijo, what’s wrong?" his father asked, setting the coffee down and gesturing for Carlos to sit.

Carlos hesitated for a moment before making his way to the table. He slumped into the chair across from his father, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I don’t know what to do, Papa," he admitted, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "I… I just found out that I’m going to be a father."

Carlos Sr. didn’t react immediately, but his eyes softened, and he took a deep breath, as though weighing his words carefully. "A father," he repeated, the weight of the word hanging in the air. "And you don’t know what to do?"

Carlos shook his head. "I never wanted this. I mean… I never planned for it. You know how I’ve always felt about kids, about having a family. I was never ready for that. I don’t know how to be a father, how to be the kind of man who can balance everything. I don’t want to let go of everything I’ve worked for. My career, my life—it all feels so out of control now."

His father sat back, folding his arms across his chest as he observed his son. The lines on Carlos Sr.’s face seemed deeper than usual, as if he had seen this moment coming from a distance.

"I understand. I understand more than you know," Carlos Sr. said quietly. "But sometimes, life has a way of throwing us challenges when we least expect it. You think you’ve got everything planned, and then something happens that changes everything. And that’s not always a bad thing. You’re scared because you feel like you’re losing control, but maybe what you’re really scared of is letting go of the idea that you can do it all on your own."

Carlos ran a hand through his hair again, frustration mixing with confusion. "I’m not ready to be a father, Papa. I’m just… not."

Carlos Sr. sighed deeply, his gaze steady and filled with a depth of understanding that only comes from years of experience. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but firm.

"I wasn’t ready either, Carlos," he said, and his words hit harder than Carlos expected. "When your mother told me she was pregnant with your older sister, I didn’t know how to feel. I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I didn’t know if I could balance my career with being a father. But one thing I did know was that it wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about us—your mother and I, and the life we were going to build. And there was nothing more important than that."

Carlos Sr. paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing.

"You see, when you’re faced with something like this, you have two choices. You can run away from it, avoid it, pretend it’s not happening. Or you can face it. You can stand up and accept it for what it is, and figure out how to make it work. Because when you become a father, it’s not about you anymore. It’s about the life you’re bringing into this world, and the kind of person you want to be for them."

Carlos felt a lump form in his throat as he absorbed his father’s words. His chest tightened, the reality of what his father was saying hitting him like a wave. He had always been focused on his career, on his goals, on the life he had chosen. But now, it felt like that life was being torn apart by something so much bigger than himself.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Papa," Carlos admitted, his voice faltering.

Carlos Sr. stood up, walking over to the window and looking out at the garden. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, tinged with the wisdom of years of experience.

"You’re not alone, Carlos. You don’t have to figure this out on your own. You have people who love you, who want to support you. You have her—" He gestured toward the door, toward the life Carlos had just walked away from. "She’s in this with you. And you need to talk to her. You need to listen, because she’s not asking you to fix everything. She’s asking you to be there."

Carlos closed his eyes, the weight of his father’s words settling over him like a heavy blanket. He had been so caught up in his own fears, his own insecurities, that he hadn’t even considered what you must have been feeling. He hadn’t thought about the fact that you were in this together, that this wasn’t just his problem to solve. It was yours—yours to face, to share, to overcome.

"She’s scared, Carlos," his father continued. "She’s scared, and she needs you. Not the man who thinks he has all the answers, but the man who’s willing to show up, even when he doesn’t. She needs you to be there, to support her through this. That’s what it means to be a man. To stand by the people you love, even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t know how."

Carlos Sr. turned around to face him, his eyes meeting his son’s with a quiet intensity.

"You have a choice, Carlos. You can choose to run, to stay in the safety of the life you’ve built for yourself. Or you can choose to be a father, to take responsibility for the life you’re creating. The choice is yours. But don’t wait too long to make it. Because sometimes, the biggest mistake we can make is not realizing what we have until it’s too late."

Carlos sat in silence, the weight of his father’s words sinking deep into his soul. For the first time since he had walked out of your apartment, he felt a shift inside him—a slow, dawning realization that he could no longer keep running from this.

He had to go back. He had to face you.

Carlos’ heart raced as he drove back toward the apartment. His father’s words had cut deeper than he expected, like a scalpel carving into something raw, something fragile. The weight of his choices pressed heavily on his chest. The fear, the uncertainty—it was all still there, but his father’s wisdom had ignited something inside him, a spark of understanding he had been too afraid to acknowledge before.

He had left. Walked away when you needed him the most. And now he had to fix it. He had to go back and be the man he promised he would be—someone you could depend on, someone who would fight for you. But more than that, someone who would fight for the life growing inside of you.

Carlos gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with the effort. He couldn’t shake the images of your face—the hurt in your eyes, the way you had begged him to understand. And he hadn’t. He had run.

When he pulled into the parking lot of your building, everything seemed so still. The world outside was unaware of the storm that had been brewing between the two of you, but it felt like the universe itself was holding its breath. He parked the car with a sense of finality, as if this moment would mark the beginning of something new—or the end of everything.

He got out of the car, walking toward the entrance with slow, deliberate steps. His mind raced with a thousand things to say, but none of them seemed to be enough. What could he possibly say to fix this? How could he explain the confusion, the fear, the selfishness that had led him to walk away from you when you needed him most?

The door to the apartment creaked open with a quiet sound that felt impossibly loud in the silence of the hallway. Carlos stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, searching for you. But the apartment was eerily quiet. He called your name softly at first, unsure if you were even home, but the emptiness in the air told him something was wrong.

"Y/N?" His voice trembled slightly as he stepped further into the apartment. "Are you here?"

There was no answer.

He walked through the living room and into the bedroom, the door slightly ajar. As he pushed it open, the sight that met him took the breath from his lungs.

You were lying on the bed, unmoving. The room was dim, the curtains pulled tightly shut to block out the light. But what caught his attention wasn’t the stillness—it was the absence of the warmth that had once filled this space. The energy that had defined your relationship was gone, replaced with a cold, suffocating silence. You weren’t sleeping. You weren’t pretending everything was okay.

Your face was pale, your eyes closed, but your expression... it wasn’t peaceful. It was hollow, distant, as if you had already begun to retreat into a place where Carlos could no longer reach you.

His breath caught in his throat as he approached the bed, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Y/N?" he said again, his voice breaking this time. "Please, look at me."

You didn’t stir. His heart twisted in his chest, a feeling of dread settling deep in his bones. There was something in the air—a heaviness that he couldn’t shake. Slowly, cautiously, Carlos sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch your hand. It was cold, lifeless, a stark contrast to the warmth he had once known so well.

"Y/N, what’s going on?" he whispered, his voice full of pain and regret. He could feel the tears threatening to spill, but he held them back, not knowing if he even deserved the release.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you opened your eyes, though they seemed distant—no longer the eyes that had once been full of life and love. You looked at him, but it was as if you were seeing someone else entirely. Someone he didn’t recognize.

"Y/N, please," Carlos whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so sorry. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. But I’m here now. I’m here. I’ll do whatever it takes."

You blinked, your lips parting to speak, but the words never came. Instead, there was only the faintest trace of something in your eyes. Something he couldn’t quite place. Was it anger? Was it sorrow? Or something deeper—something he had failed to see in his own selfishness?

"Y/N," Carlos said again, his voice cracking this time. "Please... talk to me."

But still, you didn’t respond.

It was then that Carlos noticed something else. There, on the bed, beside you, was the faint trace of something—a small stain, barely noticeable, but undeniable. A knot formed in his stomach, and his hands began to tremble as realization began to sink in. His breath hitched, and his throat felt tight as he turned back to you, finally understanding.

"No," he breathed, his voice shaking. "No, please."

Your eyes fluttered slightly, and for a moment, Carlos thought you were going to speak. But then your gaze drifted downward, to the small band of blood that had soaked through the sheets. It was then that he realized—the child, the life that had been growing inside you, was no longer there.

"You lost it," Carlos whispered, the words coming out barely louder than a breath. His heart shattered at the realization, and a wave of guilt washed over him so strong he could hardly breathe. He had walked away. He had been so focused on his own fears, his own uncertainties, that he hadn’t seen the weight of what was happening to you.

He reached for your hand again, but this time, you pulled away. You looked at him then, and it wasn’t anger or sorrow in your eyes—it was something far worse.

"You don’t get to come back now," you said, your voice quiet, but firm. "You left when I needed you the most, Carlos. You can’t just come back and pretend everything will be okay."

Carlos felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs. He had no words to respond to that. How could he? How could he explain that the fear of fatherhood had been so overwhelming that he had allowed it to dictate his actions, even if it meant losing you—losing everything?

"You’re right," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I don’t get to just come back. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll be here for you—for us. I should’ve been here before, and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t."

But your eyes were still distant, and Carlos knew that the damage had been done. The distance between you had grown too wide, too deep to bridge in a single moment.

"I can’t do this anymore," you whispered. "I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out what you want. I can’t keep fighting for something that you’re not ready for. I thought I could do it on my own, but now... now I don’t even know who I am anymore."

Carlos felt his heart break in ways he didn’t even know were possible. The weight of what he had lost hit him with the force of a wrecking ball. You weren’t just angry with him. You were hurt. You had been betrayed, and the loss of the child—their future—was something he could never undo.

"I’ll stay with you," Carlos said quietly, his voice breaking. "I don’t care if we’re too late. We’ll figure it out. I’m here now. But please, don’t shut me out. Please."

You closed your eyes, tears sliding down your face. "It’s too late, Carlos."

And just like that, the silence between you two became unbearable, suffocating. It wasn’t just the loss of the child. It was the loss of everything that had once been. The future you had dreamed of together. The family. The love. All of it seemed to have vanished, leaving only a hollow ache where something beautiful had once been.

Carlos didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make it right. All he knew was that he had failed. He had failed you, and in doing so, he had failed himself.

Carlos sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the empty space beside him. His body felt numb, as though every part of him had been drained of energy, of life, of everything he thought he knew about the world. He had come back, had finally understood what he needed to do, but it had been too late.

He could still hear your words echoing in his mind, the quiet but firm dismissal that had shattered the fragile hope he had clung to. "I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out what you want," you had said, your voice filled with something far more painful than anger. It had been sorrow, the kind of sorrow that ran deeper than any argument, deeper than any misunderstanding. It had been the kind of sorrow that came from realizing that love, no matter how much you wanted it to, couldn’t heal everything.

The child was gone. You had lost it. The pregnancy was no longer a promise, no longer the future you had thought you were building together. And now, there was only silence.

Carlos closed his eyes, trying to push away the overwhelming weight that pressed on his chest. He had failed you, failed the life that had barely begun, and failed himself. He had walked away when he should have been there, when he should have listened instead of running. He had been afraid, too afraid to face the responsibility that was already his—one that could have been a gift if he had only chosen to embrace it. But now, it was too late.

The apartment felt suffocating. The walls seemed to close in around him as he stood up from the bed, pacing aimlessly across the room. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more agonizing than the last. He couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t take back the moments he had spent trying to avoid the reality of what had been unfolding right in front of him. The child, the future, the love—it was all gone.

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the storm inside him. He had been so focused on himself, on his own fears, on his own insecurities, that he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him. He hadn’t realized that the most important thing in his life wasn’t his career or his accomplishments. It was you. And he had lost you.

The thought hit him like a physical blow, a punch to the gut that left him breathless. He had lost you, and in doing so, he had lost everything that had ever truly mattered.

A soft knock on the door broke through the haze of his thoughts, and for a moment, Carlos didn’t know if he should answer. He didn’t know if he was ready to face anyone, especially after everything that had happened. But then, he heard his father’s voice on the other side of the door.

"Carlos? It’s me."

Carlos felt his stomach tighten at the sound of his father’s voice. He hadn’t even noticed that his father had followed him back to the apartment. It was a small mercy, one that Carlos hadn’t even realized he needed, but now, standing at the door, he knew it was the only thing that could help him navigate the overwhelming pain and regret.

"Come in," Carlos said, his voice rough.

The door creaked open, and Carlos’ father stepped inside. His presence was calming, steady, like a rock amidst a storm. Carlos didn’t look up at first, too consumed by his own guilt, but he felt the weight of his father’s gaze upon him, steady and unwavering.

Carlos Sr. said nothing at first, just walked over to the small couch in the corner and sat down. He folded his hands in his lap and waited. It was a silence that spoke volumes, one that gave Carlos the space he needed to gather his thoughts, even as they remained tangled and chaotic.

Finally, Carlos spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I failed her, Papa."

Carlos Sr. didn’t respond immediately, but the quiet understanding in his eyes told Carlos that his father already knew the depth of his pain. After a long pause, Carlos Sr. finally spoke.

"Hijo, you didn’t fail her," he said quietly. "You failed yourself. And in doing so, you failed to see what was right in front of you."

Carlos swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing bigger with each word his father spoke. He had failed himself, that much was true. His own fear, his own inability to face the future had clouded his judgment, clouded everything. And now, all he had left was this empty apartment, the silence between them, and the memory of a life that was never meant to be.

"I didn’t want this," Carlos said, his voice raw with emotion. "I wasn’t ready. I thought I could keep going, keep doing what I was doing. I thought if I just kept pushing everything away, it would go away. But it didn’t. And now… now she’s gone."

Carlos Sr. leaned forward, his gaze steady, but his voice gentle. "She’s not gone, Carlos. She’s hurt. She’s disappointed, yes. But she’s not gone. Not unless you let her be."

Carlos let out a bitter laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. "I let her down, Papa. I walked away when she needed me most. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t—"

"Stop," Carlos Sr. interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "You’re wrong. You couldn’t handle it because you didn’t let yourself. You were so caught up in your own fear that you couldn’t see what was really happening. And now, you have to fix that. You have to go to her, Carlos. You have to show her that you can be the man she needs you to be."

Carlos’s heart pounded in his chest. His father’s words were like a call to action, but he didn’t know if he could follow through. Could he really fix this? Could he undo the damage he had done? Was it even possible?

"I don’t know if she’ll forgive me," Carlos said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know if I deserve it."

"You don’t deserve forgiveness, Carlos," his father said quietly. "But you can earn it. And you start by showing up. You start by being there, by taking responsibility for what you did. It’s not about what you deserve—it’s about what you’re willing to do to make things right."

Carlos’s father stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him in that moment.

"You’re going to make mistakes, son," Carlos Sr. continued. "You’re going to mess up. But the measure of a man is not in his ability to avoid mistakes—it’s in how he handles them when they happen. It’s about owning up to them, learning from them, and doing everything in his power to make things better. That’s how you move forward. That’s how you become the man you’re meant to be."

Carlos felt tears well up in his eyes, a mix of relief and sorrow that he hadn’t expected. His father’s words, simple yet profound, broke through the fog of his confusion, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Carlos felt the smallest glimmer of hope.

"Go to her," Carlos Sr. said quietly, giving his son a final, meaningful look. "You’re not alone in this. But you can’t fix it by running away."

Carlos nodded, his throat tight. He wasn’t sure if he was ready. He wasn’t sure if you would even want to see him after everything that had happened. But he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t stay here, wallowing in his own regret. He had to go to you. He had to show you that he could be the man you needed, that he could be the father he had never thought he could be.

He stood up, his legs shaky beneath him, and walked toward the door. His father’s voice echoed in his mind, steady and unwavering. He wasn’t alone in this. He had to believe that.

As he stepped outside, the cool air hit him like a slap to the face, but it didn’t matter. He was moving forward now. He wasn’t going to let fear control him anymore.

He was going to fight for you.

And this time, he wasn’t going to run.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Xo Xo Gossip Girl

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Gossip Blogger! Reader

Part 1

a:n The way I find myself digging for the perfect chapter gif only to scroll for five minutes and save my favorites is so embarrassing. I'm gonna need his girlfriend to hand over that game card... anyway hope u like this chapter.

word count - 4k

Masterlist Link

GIF by wyattjohnston

...

HOCKEY HEARTBREAK: THE REAL REASON BEHIND THE HUGHES-DEGREGIO SPLIT

Posted by Y/N @ The Daily Whisper | 11:42 PM

Settle in, Whisper Warriors, because do I have some piping hot tea for you tonight.

You know those moments when the universe just hands you the story of the year? Well, last Saturday at Vibe, somewhere between my second cosmopolitan and watching Matt Rempe fail at dancing (yes, that's tea for another day), I quite literally bumped into none other than Serena DeGregio. And let me tell you, after a few shots of liquid courage, Hollywood's newest "it girl" was ready to spill everything about her recent split from hockey's favorite bad boy, Jack Hughes.

Now, we've all seen the headlines: "Hockey Heartthrob and Rising Star Call It Quits." But the real story? It's juicier than your mom's Thanksgiving turkey.

According to Serena, our beloved hockey star couldn't handle being the second name in the relationship. While she was booking Netflix specials and selling out concert venues, Jack was sidelined with a shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for three months. And apparently, watching your girlfriend's face on every billboard in Times Square does things to a man's ego.

"He's still stuck in that high school hockey star mentality," Serena told me, twirling the olive in her martini. "You know the type – peaked at eighteen, never had to grow up because everything came easy."

But here's where I have to play devil's advocate (and maybe it's because I've seen those ice-blue eyes up close at press events). Having covered Jack's career since his rookie year, there's more to him than Serena's bitter pill would have you swallow. This is the same guy who started a youth hockey program in underprivileged neighborhoods. The same player who spent his injury rehab volunteering at children's hospitals. And let's be real – anyone who's seen him handle a puck knows he definitely hasn't peaked.

Maybe it's the journalist in me, but something about this story feels... incomplete. There's always two sides to every breakup, isn't there?

Update coming soon... if I can track down Mr. Hughes for his side of the story 😉

...

Y/N stretched back in her purple velvet office chair, admiring her latest post on the screen. Her "lair," as she liked to call it, was her happy place – fairy lights twinkling across the ceiling, framed magazine covers featuring her biggest stories adorning the coral-painted walls, and her trusty mini-fridge humming softly in the corner, stocked with Diet Coke and chocolate-covered almonds.

The story was already gaining traction, comments pinging faster than she could read them. Her phone buzzed – Alyssa's face lighting up the screen. Y/N smiled, knowing her best friend had probably already devoured every word. As the head of corporate sponsorships at Manhattan's largest sports marketing firm, Alyssa always had the best insider information – and opinions to match.

"Y/N! Have you lost your mind?" Alyssa didn't even wait for a hello. "That post about Jack and Serena is everywhere! My entire office is buzzing about it. The PR team for the Rangers is having a field day."

"Good evening to you too, bestie." Y/N spun lazily in her chair, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

"Never mind pleasantries. I have information that's going to make your next post even bigger." Y/N could hear the smile in her voice. "You know that charity gala at The Plaza next weekend? The one my firm is coordinating with?"

Y/N threw her head back and groaned dramatically. The motion made her neck crack, and she absently rubbed it while whining, "Don't rub it in. I've been trying to get press credentials for weeks. Even my usual connections couldn't get me in."

"Well, guess who's not only attending but is being honored for his youth hockey program?"

Y/N shot forward so fast her chair rolled back and hit the wall, rattling her framed cover of Time Magazine. "Jack Hughes."

"Bingo. And since I'm basically running the whole event..." Alyssa paused for dramatic effect. "I happen to have an extra ticket with your name on it. Perks of being best friends with someone who has to make sure all the corporate sponsors play nice with their hockey darlings."

"Shut up!" Y/N leaped out of her chair, nearly tripping over her discarded shoes in excitement. She caught herself on the edge of her desk, sending a stack of press releases flying. "Alyssa Martinez, you beautiful genius! How did you swing that?"

"Let's just say I convinced the foundation board that having an influential blogger there would be good publicity for their youth programs." Alyssa's voice took on a more serious tone. "Though after this post, I might have some explaining to do. You better make this worth it."

Y/N's heart raced as she glanced at her blog post still glowing on the screen, her mind already spinning with possibilities. "Trust me, this is going to be the story of the year."

"I'm counting on it. My reputation is on the line here too, you know. These athletes might be my clients, but you're my best friend. Don't make me regret mixing the two."

"Have I ever let you down before?" Y/N was already opening her notes app, fingers flying across the keyboard.

"There's a first time for everything," Alyssa teased. "So, are you ready to get the other side of the story?"

...

One Week Later

Y/N stood before her full-length mirror, smoothing down the silk of her black dress. Beside her, Alyssa was applying a final coat of mascara, her own black dress a perfect complement with its off-shoulder design.

"Stop overthinking it," Alyssa said, catching Y/N's distant expression in the mirror. "I can literally see the gears turning in your head."

Y/N sighed, fiddling with her delicate silver necklace. The blog post about Jack and Serena had exploded over the past week, becoming her most viral story to date. But something about it had been nagging at her, keeping her up at night as she replayed Serena's words in her mind.

"It's just..." Y/N paused, carefully considering her words. "What if we got it wrong? What if Serena isn't the victim she's making herself out to be?"

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you second-guess a source?"

"Since something doesn't add up." Y/N moved to her vanity, pretending to touch up her subtle smoky eye while her thoughts raced. "I've been doing some digging. Every charity event, every hospital visit, every youth program – Jack Hughes doesn't publicize any of it. His team's PR doesn't even push it. What kind of attention-seeking bad boy does good deeds and keeps them quiet?"

"So you think Serena's lying?"

"I think..." Y/N turned to face her friend, determination settling over her features. "I think she's a scorned ex trying to control the narrative. And maybe... maybe I helped her do it."

Alyssa's lips curved into a knowing smile. "And this sudden crisis of conscience has nothing to do with those ice-blue eyes you mentioned in your post?"

"This isn't about that," Y/N protested, but she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "This is about the truth. The real story." She grabbed her clutch, checking one last time that her phone and recorder were inside. "Every good journalist knows there are two sides to every story. It's time I found out his."

"Well then," Alyssa linked their arms together, leading them toward the door. "Let's go get your story, Lois Lane."

As they stepped into the waiting car, Y/N's mind was already racing with possibilities. She'd built her career on exposing the truth, even when it wasn't pretty. But tonight felt different. Tonight, she wasn't just chasing a story – she was chasing redemption. And maybe, just maybe, she'd find out who the real Jack Hughes was in the process.

The Plaza Hotel beckoned in the distance, its lights twinkling against the Manhattan skyline like a beacon. Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. Bad boy or misunderstood hero, she was going to find out the truth – even if it meant admitting she got it wrong the first time.

...

Jack's pov

Jack's knee wouldn't stop bouncing under the pristine white tablecloth, making the water in his parents' glasses ripple like tiny earthquakes. Luke, ever the annoying little brother, flicked his ear.

"Dude, you're making the whole table shake. What's got you so worked up?" Luke's grin was nothing short of devilish. "Could it be a certain viral blog post about your 'high school mentality'?"

Jack pinched the sensitive spot under Luke's bicep, earning a satisfying yelp. "Shut up, man. At least I didn't trip over my own skates at practice yesterday."

"Boys," Ellen Hughes' warning tone cut through their bickering. She smoothed her navy dress with one hand while giving them both the look – the one that had stopped many locker room fights in their youth. "You're at a charity gala, not the rink. Act like grown men, please?"

"Yes, Mom," they chorused in unison, sharing a quick grin that made their father Jim chuckle behind his menu.

Jack let out a heavy breath, tugging at his bow tie. It felt too tight, like everything else lately – the press, the expectations, the endless questions about Serena. His leg started bouncing again.

"That's it." He pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor. "I need a drink."

"Water," his mother called after him. "You have a speech to give!"

Jack waved in acknowledgment, weaving through the sea of evening gowns and tuxedos. His shoulder twinged – phantom pain from the injury that had started this whole mess. Or maybe it was just his body's reaction to stress. The blog post had been everywhere this week, his phone blowing up with messages from teammates asking if he'd seen it.

He had. Multiple times. Each read made him want to throw his phone into the Hudson.

Reaching the bar, he slumped against the polished marble, pressing his forehead to the cool surface for just a moment. "Water, please," he groaned to the bartender. "Still, not sparkling."

"Trouble in paradise?"

The voice was unfamiliar, tinged with curiosity and something else he couldn't quite place. Jack lifted his head to find a woman in a black dress perched on the barstool next to him, stirring what looked like a cosmopolitan with delicate fingers. She wasn't looking at him directly, but he could see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Before he could respond, a flash of red appeared in his peripheral vision, and he had to fight the urge to groan out loud.

"Jackie!" The voice was unmistakable – Rebekah Chen, Page Six's most persistent reporter. Her red dress matched her lipstick, both as bold as her personality. She latched onto his arm like a barnacle, fake nails digging into his jacket. "I've been trying to reach you all week!"

Jack threw his head back, closing his eyes as if that might make her disappear. "Not today, Rebekah," he muttered, feeling every muscle in his jaw tense. His hand curled around the water glass the bartender had just set down, knuckles white.

"Oh, come on!" She pressed closer, her voice dropping to what she probably thought was a seductive whisper. "Just a few questions. I can help you clear the air about that nasty blog post. Make that gossip guru eat her words." She batted her eyelashes. "All I need is a teensy exclusive about what really happened with Serena."

Jack's laugh was hollow as he extracted his arm from her grip. "Right, because that worked out so well the last time." He took a long drink of water, adam's apple bobbing as he tried to maintain his composure. "No comment, Rebekah. Same as yesterday, and the day before that, and—"

"But Jackie—"

"Not happening." Jack's voice was firm as steel. "There's nothing to say, Rebekah. Not to you, not to anyone."

Rebekah huffed, her red lips turning down into a pout. She opened her mouth to protest again, but something in Jack's expression must have finally gotten through. With a dramatic sigh and flip of her hair, she clicked away on her stilettos, no doubt in search of easier prey.

Jack's shoulders dropped as tension bled out of them. He turned back to the bar, catching the mystery woman in black watching him in the mirror behind the bottles. When their eyes met, she didn't look away.

"That happen often?" she asked, taking a slow sip of her cosmopolitan.

Jack let out a dry laugh, running a hand through his carefully styled hair. "More than I'd like. Apparently, 'no comment' is journalist-speak for 'try harder.'" He paused, studying her reflection. "Though you don't seem like the pushy type."

"Maybe I'm just better at playing the long game." The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she turned to face him properly. "Besides, the real story usually isn't found in ambushing someone at a bar."

"Exactly." He found himself leaning against the bar, angling toward her. There was something about her that made him want to keep talking. "Like this blog post that went viral this week. Everyone's got an opinion about who I am, what I did wrong, but—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you probably haven't even seen it."

She hummed noncommittally, that almost-smile playing on her lips again. "I might have caught it. Though I tend to be more interested in the stories that don't make headlines."

"Like what?"

"Like why a professional hockey player spends his injury rehab teaching kids to skate in Harlem instead of lounging on some beach somewhere."

Jack blinked, caught off guard. He'd been careful about keeping that quiet. "How did you—"

"Just someone who pays attention," she said, gathering her clutch. "The real story isn't always the loudest one, is it?"

Before Jack could process what she meant, Luke's voice carried across the room. "Jack! Mom says get back here. Speech time!"

The woman in black slid off her barstool with practiced grace. "Sounds like you're needed elsewhere."

"Wait," Jack said, suddenly not wanting her to disappear into the crowd. "I didn't catch your name."

"Y/N," she offered, and for a moment, her smile was full and genuine. "Good luck with your speech, Jack.”

She moved past him, the subtle scent of her perfume lingering. Jack found himself watching her weave through the crowd, his mind replaying their conversation. There had been something different about her – the way she'd asked questions without really asking them, how she'd known about his volunteer work but hadn't tried to use it against him like Rebekah would have.

"Dude." Luke appeared at his elbow, poking him in the ribs. "Stop staring into space. Mom's going to kill us both if you're late for your own award."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Jack followed his brother back to their table, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd. He spotted her finally, sliding into a seat near the back beside another woman in black. As if sensing his gaze, she glanced up, raising her cosmopolitan in a small salute.

For the first time in weeks, Jack felt himself genuinely smile.

...

"...and with your continued support, we can make sure every kid who wants to play hockey has that chance, regardless of their circumstances. Thank you."

The ballroom erupted in applause. Jack's shoulders relaxed slightly – public speaking had never been his favorite part of the job, but at least this speech was about something that mattered.

Near the back of the room, Y/N leaned toward Alyssa. "We should go," she whispered, gathering her clutch. "We're not gonna get anything else tonight."

Alyssa nodded, already standing. "At least the champagne was good."

They slipped out as the crowd continued clapping, their heels clicking against the marble floors of The Plaza's ornate lobby. Y/N's mind was already spinning with how she'd write this up – not the puff piece everyone would expect, but something different. Something true.

"Y/N!"

The call echoed through the lobby, making her freeze mid-step. That voice – she'd just been listening to it give a speech about youth hockey programs and second chances.

She turned slowly, Alyssa's hand gripping her arm in surprise. Jack Hughes was jogging toward them, bow tie slightly askew, still slightly breathless from his speech. His hair was ruffled like he'd been running his hands through it, and there was a slight flush to his cheeks that hadn't been there at the bar.

"I—" he started, then seemed to realize he was still slightly out of breath. His hand came up to rest gently on her bare arm, the touch surprisingly warm. "Hey."

Y/N's eyebrows rose. "Hey yourself. Shouldn't you be back there accepting congratulations?"

He waved his free hand dismissively, though he didn't move the one on her arm. "They'll survive without me for a few minutes." His ice-blue eyes darted between her and Alyssa, a mix of nervousness and determination crossing his features. "You should come out with us. Both of you," he added quickly, offering Alyssa a genuine smile. "My teammates are headed to this bar just down the street. Nothing fancy, just... drinks. And conversation."

The way he said 'conversation' made Y/N's pulse quicken. There was weight behind it, meaning she couldn't quite decipher.

"I don't know," she started, but Alyssa cut her off.

"We'd love to," her supposed best friend said, ignoring Y/N's sharp look. "Lead the way, Hughes."

Jack's face broke into a grin that transformed his entire appearance. Gone was the serious hockey player from the podium, replaced by something younger, lighter. "Great! I just need to grab Luke and dodge my parents." He squeezed Y/N's arm gently before letting go. "Don't leave, okay? Five minutes, tops."

He was already backing away, that grin still in place. "Wait for me," he called out, just before turning.

Y/N waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Alyssa. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you the real story," Alyssa smirked, already typing on her phone. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She thought about Jack's smile, the warmth of his hand on her arm, the way he'd said 'conversation' like he was offering something more than just drinks and small talk.

"Five minutes," she conceded, trying not to smile at Alyssa's triumphant expression. "But if this backfires, I'm blaming you."

"Honey," Alyssa linked their arms, steering them toward the bar's entrance. "Something tells me this is going to be the best story you've ever written."

...

The bass thrummed through Y/N's bones as they approached the club, the line wrapping around the building like a snake. Jack stayed close to her side, his presence warm and solid as they bypassed the queue entirely.

"Mr. Hughes," the security guard nodded, unhooking the velvet rope without hesitation. "Welcome back."

Inside, bodies packed the dance floor, but Jack navigated them through the crowd with practiced ease. His hand ghosted over Y/N's lower back, guiding her through the maze of people until they reached a raised section cordoned off with another rope. Several men Y/N recognized from hockey highlights were sprawled across the plush booths, drinks already flowing.

"Look who finally made it!" Luke called out, now free of his bow tie and jacket. "We were starting to think Mom trapped you in conversation with the Vanderbilts again."

"Barely escaped," Jack laughed, helping Y/N up the small steps before following. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Alyssa."

The team welcomed them warmly, shuffling to make space. Y/N found herself wedged between Jack and the booth's arm, hyperaware of every point where their bodies touched. Her notebook felt like it was burning a hole in her clutch.

"I'm telling you," one of the players – Miller, according to his heated gesture at his teammate – was saying, "game seven, '94 Finals. Best hockey game ever played."

"You weren't even born yet!" Another player – Thompson – argued back. "2010 Olympics, Canada versus USA. That's peak hockey right there."

"You're both wrong," Luke interjected, leaning forward. "2018 World Juniors, outdoor game. Nothing beats playing in actual snow."

"That's because you scored the winning goal, you biased little shit," Jack laughed, his arm sliding naturally along the booth behind Y/N. The movement brought him closer, his cologne mixing with the lingering scent of his aftershave.

"What about you?" he asked, turning those blue eyes on her. "You follow hockey long?"

"My dad used to play," she found herself saying truthfully. "Nothing professional, just beer league, but he loved it. Taught me to skate before I could walk."

Something in Jack's expression softened. "Mine too. Well, him and my mom..." He shifted, angling toward her more fully. "It's different now though, isn't it? The pressure. Everyone watching, waiting for you to mess up. Luke and Quinn, they get it, but we're barely home at the same time anymore. Summer's all we got, really. And even then..." He trailed off, vulnerability flickering across his features in the dim light.

Y/N's chest tightened. This wasn't the cocky player from the tabloids or the bitter ex-boyfriend from Serena's story. This was just... Jack. Raw and real and trusting her with pieces of himself she had no right to.

"I need a drink," she blurted, already sliding out of the booth. "Excuse me."

She practically fled to the bar, gripping the edge of it when she reached it. "Whiskey sour," she managed when the bartender looked her way. "Strong."

"Oh my god, Y/N!"

She turned to find Rebekah Chen stumbling slightly, clearly several drinks in. Her red dress was slightly askew, her lipstick smudged at one corner.

"Is Jack here?!" Rebekah's voice pitched high with excitement.

"No," Y/N said firmly, accepting her drink from the bartender. "He's not."

"Ugh." Rebekah deflated, then perked up again almost instantly. "But oh my god, you'll never believe what Serena told me about him." She leaned in conspiratorially, alcohol heavy on her breath. "He's a total player. Like, major cheater. She said he was always sliding into girls' DMs when they were together, coming to places like this..." She gestured around the club. "Getting with random girls behind her back."

Y/N's eyes widened despite herself. The Jack she'd just left didn't seem capable of that kind of betrayal, but...

"Yeah!" Rebekah pressed on, encouraged by Y/N's reaction. "Serena has receipts too. Screenshots, dates, everything. She's just waiting for the right moment to release them." She swayed slightly. "Guess the golden boy isn't so golden after all, right?"

Y/N's drink suddenly felt heavy in her hand. Behind her, she could hear Jack's laugh carrying over the music, warm and genuine. She thought about how carefully he'd helped her through the crowd, how softly he'd spoken about his brothers.

How absolutely screwed she was if she was starting to believe in him.

...

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[lazyneonrabbitt]

Wanderer

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞

You meet an elf, a wanderer and quickly take him into your life, only to later learn he is no elf at all

That fix-it fix that's like, a month too late

Adar stood in the midst of the battlefield, Elrond at his feet.

But he paid the elven warrior no mind, for he had much greater things in his posession.

Nenya hung from a chain between his fingers, gleaming in the dim light cast over the fields of death.

Adar had what he required, and sounded the horns of retreat.

But across the borders of Mordor none his children had caught sight of their Lord Father.

No, for he had not returned to his lands. He had found himself in a state of fear upon the discovery of Nenya's powers as he sat at the river's edge where he took in his reflection that no longer matched him.

His hand lifted to his face and felt no scarring, only soft flesh. He retreated his hand and brought it into view and found a light pink hue where a dull gray was supposed to be.

With quick and frantic movements he discarded his gauntlet and revealed the lack of black charred skin. Next was his armor and chainmaille, together with the lift of his heavy cotton tunic. The ring on his hand glimmered in his sight and it clicked.

It had healed him.

Wounds that had endured ages, leftovers of torture and remainders of darkest days all were no longer. And thus he wondered.

His children had retreated further into the lands of Mordor, and the elves had fled Eregion. It meant the lands around him were cleared of threats, or at least he expected them to be.

He discarded the guards tied around his boots and hid them along with his armor, setting off in the direction of the fallen city where he raided homes for food and cloth.

Once fed and changed into clean, gorgeously embroidered elven attire, with his hair tied in a traditional style the reflection he looked at in the mirror was no longer Adar.

He could blend now, wander and exsist freely. All he had to do was keep the ring hidden.

And so he wandered. For weeks, months he traveled. Never staying in one place long and avoiding settlements where he could run into familiar faces.

"Ah, apologies sir." A thud against his side had Adar stop examining the arrangements of products in the market stall and look beside him where the kind voice spoke to him.

A woman stood beside him, the stall long forgotten as she stared in awe. It was strange, to be almost gawked at like this, but he would lie if he said that he preffered the looks doubt and distrust of others.

"Do you wish to see, my lady?" With a kind gesture he stepped aside and led the lady to his spot. He watched the exchange and was caught off guard as he was offered half of her purchase.

"Please, I cannot accept this." Adar held up his hands, he had money to pay for his own food. Taking from others was his way no longer.

"Then you come eat with me." You stood your ground against the elf before you. "I insist."

You were persistant, and while he preffered to stay on his own he could not deny the pull at his heart with how you looked at him and showed him kindness.

With a curt bow he accepted, and allowed you to lead him to a quiet area where you sat down and unpacked your basket.

"I haven't seen you around here before." You wondered out loud, hoping to get a little conversation out of the beautiful stranger.

"I travel. I wander around and never stay in one place for long. It is not strange you haven't seen me before as this is the first time I have come by this place." He picked at the fruit in his hands, taking off small chunks to eat.

The back and forth of casual conversation was a delight to Adar, all up to the point of you mentioning never having introduced yourself with a shy laugh. You offered your name and wished for his in return.

His mind panicked. He had never yet needed a name, seeing most folk left him alone and no one had indulged enough to ask him.

He needed an answer quick. He took to looking down at the table as if to take more food and his eyes fell on the silver embroidery of the moon phases on the edge of his sleeve.

"You may call me Raun. For the moon that has guided my path for many ages." He glanced up for a short moment before picking up an apple to snack on.

"Raun," You gave the name a try and smiled. "It suits you. The color of your eyes and robe match it as well." You had already noticed Raun's beautiful greyish blue eyes were easy to get lost in.

He enjoyed listening to you talk about things he should go see in the area, describing them with great detail. Your voice was like music to his ears.

Halfway into a sentence you stopped and let out a soft laugh, earning a confused look from the elf across from you.

Without another word you reached over to him, your fingers lightly touching his cheek as you brushed a piece of apple peel off the corner of his mouth. Your hand lingered with how it felt like Raun leaned into the touch and placed his hand over yours then, turning his head ever so slightly to press a soft kiss to your palm.

He was so touch starved his body acted on its own, quickly retreating once he realized his actions.

Stammering out an apology was all he managed before you were grabbing his hands into yours. "It's okay." Your touch calmed him and he dared lifting his gaze back up from the table.

The smile you held was genuine, it was as clear as day to him and he wished to hold your hands forever.

Adar had been deprived of kindness from anyone but his kin for as long as his memories let him recall, the softness of elven touch seeping into his veins and reviving his rotten heart.

"I do believe you deserve a genuine apology. My actions should have not be so sudden. I must admit it seems I have missed the touch of another for so long I reacted too strongly. " There was shame in his tone, and you wondered what caused him to feel such negativity. You'd set the question aside for later and opted for rubbing comforting circles over his knuckles. He missed touch, so you'd touch him.

Your gentle touches were clearly having an effect on him and you decided to give the interesting elf what he needed most.

"Where are you staying?" Your question pulled his gaze off your still connected hands. "If you want we can wander the area together? I'll pick you up at the inn."

The truth was a sad one. One he almost did not dare to speak aloud. With the fall of Eregion there were no inns left in the are that had space for travelers like him. But the thought of leaving again right after this delightful meeting felt like a stab to the chest.

"The inns are all full of refugees." Ones he had made to leave himself. He and his kin, too focused on taking Sauron's life that everything else became unimportant. His blindness had come to bite him in the ass.

"The elves who resided in Eregion traveled as far as here to find shelter, I forgot about that.." You sighed at the reminder of how cruel the world could be.

"You can stay at my place, if you wish?" It was a careful offer, unsure how the wanderer liked getting close to people on his stops. His raised brows and wide eyes came as a surprise to you, immediately agreeing with your plans was not something you expected he'd do.

Adar was intrigued to say the least. He normally would run at the offer, afraid his sherades would fall through but now he was getting excited to follow you instead.

It is how the two of you ended at your home. You showed him around and let him take in your collection of writing while you prepared a simple dinner.

You had denied Raun's request to help you cook enough times to have him give up and retreat back to your collection of books until you called him back to share dinner.

Only when you were finished you allowed him to help you clean up, he would not let it slide if you denied him again.

You had Raun put away the last plate as you wiped down the counter, not leaving your place a mess now that you had a houseguest.

The touches you had shared, and brushed off as accidental or bound to happen while cleaning together had Adar craving more.

On his way back his eyes were stuck you your frame, working to finish your task and loving how your garment sat on your frame so well. Adar let his heart win over his mind and moved towards you, his hands finding your hips and his lips finding the tip of your ear as you jumped at the touch.

"Apologies, I did not mean to frighten you." You melted at the sound of his voice. Feeling his breath against your ear had you lean into him entirely. His cheek rested against yours as you laid your head back against him, turning ever so slightly to look him in the eye. Again your touches were answered with the smallest peck, this time to the corner of your mouth.

Yet you found him a little too careful and turned around between him and the counter you leaned against, only to wrap your arms around his neck and pulling him into the kiss he had wanted to give you.

The intimacy of the moment seared all Adar's nerves, his tongue less than gently making it past your lips and hoisted you on top of the just cleaned counter. There was nothing elven in his actions, but you were enjoying his ministrationa too much to care. The way he skillfully undid your garment without an ounce of hesitation just added to the ever growing curiosity.

And in this moment your curiosity had set on finding out what was underneath his robes.

Shortly all parts of garments were all over the floor and your hands were grasping long strands of dark hair in bliss. You watched as Raun feasted on you, tongue alternating between lapping at your clit and pressing into you, his hands a tight grip on your legs. The rumble of his voice as he hummed in pleasure only had you whine louder, clenching your walls around nothing and begging. Begging for him to fill you, to stand up and let you please him as well. The pull at his roots only made him add more pressure to your clit, and with only a few more calculated flicks of his tongue he had you coming with a loud moan of his name.

"R.. Raun please," You weren't given a moment to catch your breath as his tongue was replaced by his fingers nestling deep inside of you, curling them to rub at your most sensitive spot.

The way his new name sounded, moaned out like that made him appriciate it. He suddenly no longer minded his panicked answer. If it was for you, he would be Raun for as long as you'd have him.

"Please what, my sweet girl?" His tongue found your lips and licked them before pulling you into another passionate kiss, having you taste yourself on him. "Tell me your desires.." The hand not currently pleasing you found your chest, softly kneading. "I cannot tend to your needs if you do not tell me."

You were beyond ready for him, he must know this. Then why was he teasing you so much? It was strange how he acted but it made the act so much more pleasurable.

"I.. I want you inside." Speaking your wants out loud was so unlike you, and Raun chose to make it worse. "But love, I already am." He spoke as another finger joined the two already toying with your walls.

With his palm pressing against your clit he made it even more difficult for you to speak. "Hahh.. you know whh.. what I mean.." Your words drew out into mewls and whines.

"My poor, shy Elleth. Am I to guess what you wish for?" You couldn't get enough of his voice, but in turn could not get yours to function. So with your hands you showed him what you desired. You pulled his hips flush with yours, snaking your hand inbetween your bodies and taking his length in hand to press the tip at your entrance.

Much to your pleasure Raun had taken your wordless actions and moved to lazily thrust into you, barely an inch at a time to ease himself all the way in until hiships were flush with yours at the edge of the counter.

To give you a moment to adjust to the fullness he pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, your tongues brushing along each other as large hands held you in place until you both ran out of breath.

Panting your foreheads rested together, a smile on your face that had Adar's mind beg him to stay just a little longer each time he saw it.

With his hands on your hips he set a steady rhythm that had you gasp and moan, clamping your legs around his waist which only made him go deeper.

"Hah.. Raunn.." You moaned against his temple as he had his mouth at your neck, biting and licking. Only leaving marks where he was sure only he would see them. With each scrape of his teeth your fingers tightened around the strands of hair you held.

"Do you wish to finish, my sweet?" His hips kept up their pace, the drag of his cock inside of you almost making you see stars. You nodded against him and he grunted in response. You could feel his thrusts getting sloppier and his panting picked up against your skin, making you tighten your grip on his waist and letting out soft moans right at his ear.

Oh how he loved your noises. And the way your legs clamped around his body felt so good. One of his hands left your hips to rub circles on your clit, to pull you over the edge with him as he finished, spilling deep inside of you with a groan muffled by your shoulder.

Your palm rested against the back of his head as you caught your breaths. You felt Raun's cock slide out of you as he stepped back to give you space to stretch your legs.

"That was.. definitely not elf-like." A tired smile was all you could give him as he laughed softly at your comment. "I suppose I shall take that as a compliment, yes?" He held his hands out for you to hop down the counter, but your legs failed you and had you tumble face first into Raun's chest. To answer his comment you just nodded into his chest, humming affirmingly.

"You look ripe for bed, shall I take you?" Another nod and a quiet "yes, please." left your wobbly self before you were picked up and took you to the bedroom, where you dis not want to let him leave. "Hmmno, you're warm. Stay?"

And so he stayed. He let you rest for a moment but eventually you ended up tangled under your sheets once again. Sleep didn't come until early that morning.

Over the course of weeks, you had the company of Raun wherever you found yourself. Holding hands out and about at the market or wandering the woods. At home there was not a room or surface left that hadn't been defiled. Raun had shown you everything he said he had picked up during his thousands of years among other races and communities. You loved his roughness in bed, the way he'd manhandle you on top of the dinnertable or make you cum on his tongue time after time before holding you in a bruising grip as he ravaged you.

Adar felt like he was risking way too much for one elf, but the longer he spent in your presence the less he worried. Nor thought of his old self.

The longer he stayed with you, saw himself as he was now the more he felt like his new identity. Raun was who he was now and how he introduced himself as well. No longer 'just a wanderer' or a dismissive answer to the question once someone cared ebough to ask.

Although some nights when he sat awake by himself he felt like he was lying to you, he was content as your elven lover. The worry was only a small negative compared to the large amount of positive you had brought him.

He even agreed to go see some event happening in the area. You stood together in the crowd, not entirely front row but you had a clear enough view of it all.

Royal elves came to see communities near Eregion where refugees had fled to, bringing assistance where needed. You found them to be a little late, but appriciated the gesture. While you were having a good time watching, you could feel Raun's restless energy. You had questioned him but all he blamed it on was the large crowd of people.

Adar felt sick, trying to hide his shaking hands as he watched the high king greet people. His worry of him somehow sensing another ring being in his presence was almost overwhelming.

Almost.

And then his hand was grabbed and soft pads traced over his knuckles. You grounded him for a moment. Just enough to get his breathing in check and calm his racing mind. He gave himself a moment to say thanks with a soft kiss to the side of your head, life was suddenly less anxiety inducing in that moment.

When he dared to look back to the event happening his world sank back into panic. The grip on your hand was almost bruising, pulling you from your excitement to see Lady Galadriel being her perfect self. You pulled your hand free from Raun's grasp with a quick look towards him and saw nlthing but fear in his eyes and on the other end of you you could see Lady Galadriel look directly your way.

No, not your way. She looked at Raun.

"My sweet, I need to leave. I'm not feeling well I'm afraid." There was a tremble in his voice. It was enough to convince you to leave with him instead of having him head back home by himself.

The second you alowed him he took long strides out the back of the crowd, his hand still in yours as to not lose you. He couldn't deal with that now, he needed you with him.

"Can you please tell me what's wrong?" You were catching your breath from having to kesp up with his long strides across the whole area. Raun had taken you to the other end from where the event was happening and no longer felt the stare af the back of his head.

"I promise I will explain later. Now I prefer to go home and calm my mind if you are okay with it. I had hoped to keep your calming presence at my side." You tried to pin any logic to the whole situation but all you saw was what reminded you of a young child clinging to his mother's dress for safety and comfort. So you let him hold on to you and carefully made your way home.

Raun convinced you to take a more scenic route trough the woods. To calm him, he said. You let him lead the way, nowadays familiar with the woods surrounding your home you knew he told the truth about wanting to go back to the house you shared, but the quiet stroll through the woods didn't last long enough to reach it.

"Hold it right there, orc." It was unmistakably lady Galadriel's voice that called out and made you look around in panic. Orcs? This close to your home? Had they truly become this ruthless, to start attacking settlements for no reason?

Your mind raced until the lady was right in front of you, a blade to Raun's neck and a sneer on her face.

"You believed you could run off without us finding you? Hand me back my ring this instant." The blade at the now elf's throat pressed hard against his skin, close to breaking it.

"Please." You called out to Galadriel, hoping she'd see her mistake. "I may not know who you are searching for, but I can assure you Raun is not him. He has been in my company for--"

"Let me guess, a short while after Eregion fell?" Her blade never left Raun's throat, even as she looked at you and your still intertwined hands.

"He has been deceiving you with this fair form. A trick he has no doubt learned from Sauron himself." Her angry stare moved back to Raun next to you, who's look turned from fearful to enraged in a fraction of a second. Witg a snap that had the blade at his thoat break the skin he barked at her.

"Don't EVER compare me to that filth. You know he has tricked us both with the one thing you accuse me of doing." The blood ran down the front of his garment and yet he showed no sign of discomfort.

You stood among them as if you did not exsist in this exchange, and it hurt you to be left out. You watched as Raun composed himself with a grounding breath.

"If I were to return your ring willingly, are you willing to let me roam free? I have no more desire to fight, in all my ages I have seen too much torture and death." His gaze landed back on you. "If you allow it, I'd prefer to live my in peace. I shall leave and asure our paths may never cross once more."

"You know she will leave. You have been lying to her from the second you met. Do you truly believe you deserve any better than execution?" The more you listened to Galadriel's words the more confused you became.

And then Raun's hand slipped from yours, the softest apology fell from his lips before he slipped the silver ring from his finger and held it out for Galadriel to take.

"Goneho nin." He could do nothing more than apologize. Adar's trembling voice made him despise himself. Lady Galadriel was right in all her accusations. He had lied to you, so much that it had slowly starting to morph into a new false reality.

The silver ring slipped from his finger and laid in his palm, waiting for Galadriel's hand. But that wasn't what your eyes were focused on even with how gorgeously it gleamed in the broken sunlight between the trees.

No, your eyes were settled on Raun, who's skin lost all color. His eyes dulled and scarred patterns knitted their wat over the side of his face. Against the palm of your hand you felt skin warp and you pulled back in horror. You tried to understand but you couldn't. The hand you just so affectionately held was blackened, burned beyond repair.

"R.. Raun?"

Without looking at you he shook his head. He did not dare to look you in the eye in fear of losing something genuinely good.

"Love," You weren't calling him by a name this time, unsure how he would respond.

"Will you please grant me a proper look at you. Do not listen to her words regarding me. I make my own choices and leaving isn't one of them, even with what I am seeing right now."

It was Galadriel's turn to look at you with a look of surprise. "How can you stay after seeing proof of his lies?" She was convinced she was right, that her view was the only correct one but you knew the man you only knew as Raun to have been truthful in his words regarding you.

"I stay because I listen. You heard him say he is done with war. He wishes to be left alone and live quietly, as do I." Your eyes once more set on the now scarred man beside you. Your hand ever so carefully taking his scarred one.

"And I, for one, do believe people can change their hearts. And as long as his heart is good I do not care if he is not Raun the elf. You make it sound like I should be repulsed by him and I am not." You gave Galadriel one last stern glare.

"Leave us alone and we'll disappear. We'll find a place to live outside of elven lands and bother no one."

She ignored your words and looked to your partner for confirmation. And he spoke. On his own behalf and yours.

"If you do not believe her than that is your choice. If we cannot stay here then we shall leave and find another place to live. You know for a fact I have no trouble living in less than luxurious circumstances."

While the other two spoke your mind kept tossing questions your way. Ones you surely had to discuss later, after figuring out what your partner's name was, if not the one he had given you.

It seemed Galadriel had given the okay to move on away from elven lands, seeing she bid you farewell and left with her reclaimed ring.

You wanted to ask your partner to look at you, to turn around and look at you on his own accord and not jump in front of him to get a good look and bombard him with questions.

"I don't know what to call you, but would you please allow me to look at you?" Your hand found his again, gently carressing the scarring.

"I prefer to go home first, then discuss all you wish inside where I am not to be seen by others." He kept his gaze low to the ground and started towards your home at the sound of your okay.

You walked behind him in silence, letting him set the pace and respecting his boundaries still. Only once you were home you dared to glance for longer moments.

With a long drawn out sigh, Adar sat down in your reading nook, pressed against the pillows you so enjoyed laying against and beckoned you over. You followed his every gesture and sat down with him between where he had one leg propped up on the bench and the other rested off it.

Instead of allowing you to stare and touch he carefully maneuvered you with your back against his chest, pausing every move to make sure you were still consenting to be so close to him.

Way easier than he expected you were settled against him, arms raised and fingers tangled in his hair. You still saw nothing of him besides his hands. One covered in blackened scars and the other adorning a once large cut now healed over to just a raised line on grey skin. With his hands resting on your stomach he started to talk.

"The elf you saw before was my former self. One with a name long forgotten, and I no longer feel belongs to me." One of his hands trailed up to find your hand and softly guided your fingers to his scarred face.

"I am Adar, ancient compared to your fairly young self. No longer of the Eldar but now uruk." With his hand on yours he brushed along his temple.

"I have deceived you, using the ring to hide among the masses. But while my physical form changed, my heart and mind have not. My feelings toward you still remain."

Your hands retracted and you slowly made a move to turn around, onto your stomach to finally look at him properly.

"Adar.." You tested his name as you took all of him in much like you had that first day you met, and oh how the name left your mouth watering.

"So, you didn't pick up all those things on your ages of wandering." Your fingers were back to tracing the scars that adorned Adar's face, humming contently as he shook his head.

"I did not, no. That was all uruk." There was almost a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You then sat up, bunching up your dress and straddled him. Hands eagerly pulling at his garment to get it off.

"Let me see more of you, Adar the uruk." Your lips found his and moaned into the kiss as you rolled your hips.

Adar recalled Galadriel's words for a second and smiled into the kiss at how wrong she was. He deepened the kiss with a hand in your hair and his tongue down your throat.

His free hand found your hip, a bruising grip on it to assist your movements on his hardening cock.

"Are you asking to be ravished, my sweet?" His much raspier voice only made you groan out in pleasure.

"Please, Ada.." Your mouth was at his ear now, tongue lapping at the edge which only made his fingers dig deeper in your soft flesh.

With a growl he switched positions by rolling you off the bench and onto the floor with a thud, not caring about being gentle with his elven lady anymore.

The look in his eyes was one of a hunter having caught his prey, ready to devour it. He shoved a knee between your legs, letting you rub yourself on his thigh as he made quick work of your dress and undergarments, tearing them off your body. His mouth was on your chest within seconds, leaving dark red marks all over you along with deep bitemarks. He bit at your skin, following a path from your neck down to your nipple, taking it between his teeth and pulling until you cried out.

In a short moment of rest you watched him pull the decorative rope off your curtains, closing them entirely to dim the room and used the rope to tie your wrists together. With skill he had your hands above your head and secured the rope.

"Now you keep those up there like a good little elleth." His teeth dragged over your ears as he commanded you.

"Y..yes, Adar." Your eyes followed his every move as he sat up on his knees.

The way he now towered over you sent heat straight to your core, even more so when he delicately untied his robe and let it fall to the floor.

The scars that started at his temples ran down his neck and over his torso, along with one full arm and hand. Some disappeared down the waistband of his trousers that you were eager to take off if your hands weren't bound.

Adar enjoyed the way you stared at him with hunger in your eyes. How your legs wriggled their way from underneath him and you toed at his trousers to get them off.

"My, my little elleth." With a deep, throaty laugh he hooked his fingers around the ties that held his pants up and tugged at them, the fabric immediately sagging at the loosened tension and being held in place by his hard cock.

You ached for him so bad you could only whine at the barrier of fabric still being in the way. He was playing unfair, getting you so turned on and then not allowing you to do anything you so desperately wanted. You almost thought to disobey him and grab at the cloth of his pants and take the punishment but for now you knew better than to draw attention with screams and cries. That was something for when you were somewhere far away from others.

"Show me, please?" A hum of contemplation left him as he tilted his head a little, making a show of pretending to thinkabout it before uttering a quiet "No."

In an instant he was pressed flush against you, trousers gone and his body hiding his length between the two of you. His face was barely an inch away from yours, hair hanging loose around his head. "You don't get to make any choices.." His drool covered tongue lolled out of his mouth and lapped over your lips, forcing your jaw apart and licking into your mouth. You tried to follow when he moved back, but only got snapped at. "You are my little plaything and you will take what I give you like a good pet."

Adar pressed his lips back against yours in a kiss that was more teeth and tongue, biting till you bled and smearing it across your lips and painting them red. He separated from you for a short moment, only to guide his cock to your entrance and in that moment you willed your eyes down his body and got a scarred hand to the jaw, pressing your face away to the side and growling deep in warning.

"S.. sorry.." You mumbled against his palm, looking up at the ceiling and obey his rules.

With your gaze fixed upward your head was released and Adar continued on to press the tip of his cock between your folds.

He felt different than before, spreading you wider now with only the head past your entrance. He didn't give you a chance to adjust as he kept rutting into you, a growl leaving him with every thrust.

His shape differed so much from before. He curved to perfectly rub against your most sensitive spot each time and you could feel thick ridges pull at your walls each time he pulled back.

"Big.. Slow pleaseee hurts.." You squirmed at his rough intrusion and you could feel parts stretch painfully that no one ever reached before.

Adar didn't reply, instead pulling your hips flush agains his making you scream from the pressure and altered his position to fuck into you even better. He had you folded between himself and the ground, teeth finding your chest and biting, leaving no skin ummarked as he continued his assault on your cunt.

"N.. no choices." He stammered with his cheek pressed against yours. His scarred hand holding your hips in place and the other held your wrists above your head.

His deep, erratic thrusts let you know he was getting close as well, chasing his release with harsh thrusts and panting breath. With each of your sounds, mewls and pleas his hand dipped lower down your body and found your clit. His rough fingers and cock combined were what sent you over the edge, walls clenching with a drawn out moan. The feeling of you finishing all over his length had Adar spilling deep within you with one last thrust, stilling entirely atop of you.

Adar's rough actions turned soft. Kind, nuzzling kisses and gentle touches to help you sit up and soothe your aching wrists that he unbound with care.

"I have not hurt you too much, have I?" With your discarded clothing he helped you clean up, his rough self now hidden behind caring actions.

"I'm alright. Just enough to not be too much." You smiled, wincing as he helped you up and took you to find clean garments and pack for your travels.

Adar carried the largest bag and kept away from people while you spent your last moments in your lands buying food that would last a while as you traveled.

As you left the community, your old life was behind you now. But in front of you was Adar, and you would walk to the end the world at his side.

[kayhi808]

I had this thought of bucky taking Abby and mama ice skating at Rockefeller Square, buck being a native New Yorker is just skating circles around mama and Abby having the little training frame!!!

Oooh! You started revving up my Christmas energy! And what a dreamier place than NYC! Thank you for this Ask. I love it!! And I hope you enjoy this.

The air is cool and crisp and everyone is bundled up in jackets. Abby is perched on Bucky's shoulders as you make your way to the rental counter to get your skates and training frame for Abby. It's her first time to a skating rink. Abby is amazed by the Christmas lights & music playing. She's clapping her hands and singing along.

This is one tradition Bucky remembers from his past life. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center. 19 year old Bucky and his friends came in from Brooklyn Christmas Day 1936 to be a part of the Opening Day. The memories of skating beneath the Prometheus Statue and Christmas tree are still powerful memories held within his heart and he's so excited to share this experience with you and Abby Rose.

Once your skates are collected, you all make your way down to the rink. Bucky quickly laces himself into his skates and is ready for the ice. "Are you ready Abby?"

Wide-eyed she watched the people on the rink, some doing spins in the middle, other speeding by and most just leisurely enjoying their holiday moment. Bucky holds his hand out to Abby, but she shakes her head waving him off, "No, tank you."

"What's the matter?"

She stays silent and chews her lip. "Maybe we can watch you skate around first. Does that sound good?"

"Uh huh. Lemme sees you do's it." Bucky winks at her and goes out onto the ice. As soon as his skates hit the ice, it's like a duck to water. He speeds off and Abby squeals and claps for him. You prop her on your hip and bring her closer to the barrier so she can watch him. Upon making his first lap, he speeds by blowing kisses to you and Abby. You love seeing Bucky this carefree and happy! It seems moments like this don't happen nearly enough for him. Abby squeals with joy and can't stop waving at him.

"He's so fast Mama! Like zoom!"

"With practice, you can be zooming with him."

She throws her head back and giggles, "No Mama! I can't go that fast."

"Then maybe we can start over there, on that end." You point to the far end of the rink where there's a section blocked off for beginners. There's about 7 children with the training frames skating about. "Want to give it a try?"

"Yous help? Pwomise you won't leave me?"

"I promise!"

"Ok, maybe a widdle bit." You give her a kiss and make you way down to the other end. Bucky catches up to you on the other side of the wall.

"Are you ready Abby?"

She nods, "Just for a widdle bit."

A big grin spreads across Bucky's face. He looks around before telling you, "Hand her over. I got her." You quickly pass Abby over the barrier into Bucky's arms. He grips Abby under her arms & skates away with her. You hear her laugh over the music. Even hunched over, Bucky zooms her pass the other skaters. At the next break in the barrier, you step out onto the ice. After a couple wobbles, it all comes back to you as well. You hurry to catch up to your man and baby.

"Oh Mama! You doing it! You so good!" Abby claps for you, too. Bucky slows down a little for you. After a few more laps, Abby is set to try it on her own. You stop off at the beginner section, giving them your ticket for a frame for Abby.

"Ok, all you have to do is hold on to the frame as you push off with your feet." Bucky hovers over her as she does a couple of laps back and forth, encouraging her all the way. You stand off to the side cheering her on.

One time she pushed off too quickly and her feet slipped out beneath her. She was going to take a spill, but with Bucky's quick reflexes, he grabbed the back of her jacket and she was left hovering over the ice.

"Whoa! I almost felled down!" Her big eyes meets yours.

"I saw! Bucky saved you."

After a couple more passes, she likes skating on the big rink with Bucky better so that's what you did until her nose was runny and her cheeks were bright pink.

"I think we should call it a day."

Shivering, "No, Mama. I wants to stay pwease." Grabbing napkins out of your pocket, you wipe her nose again."

"How about if we sit on the stands and watch the skaters & have hot cocoa? Does that sound better?"

"Hot cocoa? Okies, I'm done." Points Bucky in the direction of the door opening. "O'er dere pwease. I'm ready for hot chocolate."

Bucky takes a sip of his cocoa & looks down at Abby, sitting beside him doing her happy wiggle while drinking her chocolate. As a 19 year old kid from Brooklyn, never could be believe the life he would lead or the life that he has now. He found a beautiful and loving woman who completed every missing part of him. Made him feel whole. Who understood him better than anyone. And who has this amazing little girl that wrapped him around her fingers and hasn't let go of him from day 1.

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[jaune-submissive-and-breedable]

'Jaune father sold him to Weiss's family as a servant/bodyguard. And of course, Weiss's asshole of a father would have him experimented on, making him taller and place him to be a guard the mansion like a dog. But Weiss and her family/friends take full Avenged of their sweet power guard dog.

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"Oh, Of course, we'll be happy to see you dear" Willow chirped. The screen before her had the visage of her eldest children, standing at attention with a crispy military uniform. "And I'm sure HE will be happy too~"

After closing the call, Willow leaned back in her chair and sighed happily. It's been a long while since she's had all her children together, maybe longer, with Weiss and Bleiss going to separate combat schools. She rose to inform her daughters that their elder sister would be visiting soon, pausing to ask her personal maid a very important question.

"2P, where is Jaune right now? I'm sure he'd be overjoyed to hear Winter's coming for a visit"

"I believe he's playing with the twin mistresses, ma'am" the dark skin maid replied.

Willow sighed and raised a hand to her temple. "I swear...those girls..."

She left her office and headed towards the twin heiress' room. they always wanted to play with the blonde boy, even from a young age, despite Jaune being a faunus. Honestly, she couldn't blame them, he was a really good boy. And the way his ears and tail wagged when he was happy is just the cutest.

Years ago, before Weiss was born, her husband, Jasque had acquired Jaune from his family for a pretty penny. The transaction was visibly illegal, but the law meant nothing to wealthy men like him. After doing so, he had atlas physicians and scientists experiment on the poor boy for months before introducing him to the family. He was tall, almost to her hips, had scars all over his body and his eyes were dull and lifeless from the experiment. What shocked her and enraged her most was how young he was. For this reason, he was placed as Winter's bodyguard and servant since they were the same age. They were inseparable since then, always doing things together no matter who was present. Be it eating playing, bathing, or even sleeping Jaune was there for her, he even got a little life back in his eyes After Weiss, Bleiss, and Whitley were born, he became their bodyguard and servant as well. All including Willow, the servants, Klein, and some of their guests loved Jaune's company for one reason or another. He also lived up to his bodyguard status in the family quite well. He truly was a good boy.

As Willow neared her daughters' room, she could her the muffled sounds of flesh colliding, moans of pleasure, and the distinct shouts of swears, no doubt from that vulgar child of hers.

*I swear that girl is gonna be the death of me* she thought as she turned the nob.

When she opened the door, Willow was immediately hit with the distinct smell of sex emanating from the twins' room. Looking inside, she saw Jaune lying on Weiss's bed. His clothes were thrown all over the room leaving him naked as the two girls in question had their way with him. Around his feet, and presumably, his hands were black glyphs that held him in place.

Weiss sat atop his face with a groin smashed into his mouth. Her long white hair was loose and tangled around her sweat-caked body. She wore only her pure white panties and a pair of white thigh-high socks. Her mouth was wide open from Jaune's long flat, dog-like tongue licking and probing her pussy.

Bleiss, on the other hand, sat on his groin, moaning and shouting as his cock speared her tiny pussy. Unlike her sister, she was completely nude save for the lacy pair of panties that hung loosely around her ankles. Her pitch-black hair was held in a neat ponytail allowing any onlooker to see her cup breast bouncing wildly up and down.

"FUCK, HIS COCK IS SOO~ GOOD!" She shouts ceasing her bouncing to wildly grind against Jaune's cock.

Across from her, Weiss moaned as his voice vibrated in her pussy "Bleiss you sow...*Moan*....Get off his it's my turn now!"

The haired girl flipped her twin off with a smirk, "Oh please, you snooze you lose bitch~"

Weiss's face scrunched at her twin's reply, her face red with anger "Why you listen here you....you"

"Ahem"

Looking to who said that, they girls' eyes widen when they saw their mother standing in the doorway, arms crossed with a disappointed expression.

"Oh.....fuck"

"Mother!..."

"Care to explain what you two are doing.." she paused looking at Bleis. a splatter of cloudy fluid covered his ass and leaked from her womanhood. Looking down Willow also saw a bright blue cockring laying on the floor "Bleiss....turn around"

Bleiss had a nervous expression on her face and protested "Oh...but umm.......I'm...uhhh"

Now, Bleiss"

She wanted to protest more but begrudgingly turned around. Willow shook her head upon seeing her daughter's bloated stomach, no doubt allowing Jaune to cum inside her.

"Really dear...." she sighed

"I warned her not to but she wouldn't listen, Mother" Weiss chimed, despite having a bloated stomach as well, albeit small.

Bleiss turned around to face her twin, fury covering her face "YOU FUCKING ASS KISSING!!!!..."

Willow was about to stop their arguing but 2P beat her the punch. The android grabbed the duo by their arms and roughly pulled them to their feet. Their stomachs emptying themselves of cum now that they're unplugged, the cloudy white fluid forming into lakes on the floor. From the bed, Jaune sat up coughing, his throat full of his own cum from Weiss sitting on his face.

"Jaune" Willow called out calmly. The blonde looked in her direction for his orders "Go clean yourself up and wait for me in a quarters please, I'll be along to talk with you shortly"

He nodded and made his way towards the door, passed Willow, and into the hallway, leaving his clothes behind. She bit her lip as he passed. Over the years, He's grown into a handsome man. He was well built, still very tall almost 7 feet, and had a decent amount of muscle on his frame. His hair had grown long enough to reach his shoulders. He also had some stumble growing that made him look a bit more mature. She could understand why her daughters risked pregnancy with that stud. Not letting herself be led astray, she turned back to her daughters, disappointed and overall just tired of their shenanigans.

"You too are to be attending two of the best huntsman academies in the kingdoms and yet you risk getting pregnant before you even graduate? You know Jaune's sperm is highly potent" She sighed and turned to leave, giving 2P one small task. "2P, please make sure these too are cleaned and dressed. Also, inform Klein that they are not to have any desserts for a week"

"What!"

"Bullshit"

"Make that two weeks"

Hours later, in Willow's bedroom

A muted groan escaped Jaune's mouth as he squirmed on the soft mattress. On his lap sat a half-naked Willow, her blouse torn open, skirt hiked up to her waist, and pantyhose ripped with her panties moved to the side. Her stomach was bloated with cum with small streams leaking from her stuffed pussy. Her left hand was raised in the air holding a syringe of pink fluid while her right used Jaune's chest for balance.

"Your taking to the aphrodisiac nicely" she cooed as she gently rolled her hips on his cock. "I can feel your balls churning with cum~"

"Mistress...I....need to.....BREED" he growled dangerously, his eyes had a feral look in them

She gently kissed his lips and looked into his dull blue eyes, bringing him back to his senses for a moment. whispering huskily"Then breed me~"

Willow gasped as he thrusted his impossibly large cock inside her. He was already skewering her womb from just that one thrust. She hardly had time to process anything before he trusted again then again before fully pistoning his hips inside her. She watched his face twist and contort into a feral expression, his pupils' mere slits in an ocean of blue. She watched him open his and lean to her right, groaning as she felt him nibble on her shoulder. All the while her trusted into here cunt like a dog in heat.

"Oh...Jaune your...AHH!!!"

Willow gasped as Jaune bit hard into her skin, though not enough to draw blood. It was sudden, but a welcome surprise from the faunus. But when she felt him increase the force in his mouth, she began to feel a bit afraid, but even more aroused.

"Jaune...Not so rough" she chuckled, only to be met with animalistic grunts from the faunus. Her smile faltered as felt him biting hard, his teeth threatening to break skin. "that's enough, Jaune"

He didn't reply instead applying more force.

"Jaune....That's Enough"

Still no response.

"Jaune..." she called with more authority "I said that's enough...."

Willow lost all thought in that moment. He had broken through her skin resulting in streams of blood to flow from her shoulder. All according to plan

PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP

"AHH...BREED ME YOU FUCKING ANIMAL!!!" she cried. Ignore the pain from having her snatch destroyed by his massive cock.

The faunus man obeyed his mistress's request, never stopping his thrusts for a moment. His mind clouded with only one thought, Breed. His cock stretched her vaginal walls as he pushed in and out, occasionally scrapping out leftover bits of cum from earlier. His balls churned with more of the life-giving seed, eager to release it inside of Willow's battered womb.

the matriarch moaned loudly as she felt herself getting dominated by the faunus. It wasn't the first time he ravaged her form, in fact, it was a near-weekly occurrence. Ever since the "tragic" death of her husband, she along with her daughters had been using Jaune for sexual relief. And he was leagues better than Jacques ever was. After their first rendevous, the night of Jacques's death, she secretly had a special aphrodisiac that would make him into a horny beast hell-bent of breeding. Sure it left her sore for weeks, but it was well worth it to feel his seed swimming inside her.

"PUMP ME FULL OF YOUR SEED" She screamed, "MAKE ME HAVE ANOTHER PUPPY"

He was more than happy to oblige, his cock twitched and pulsed as he felt his climax rapidly approach. With a mighty grunt he shoved himself deep into her pussy and release a torrent of cum inside her womb, never stopping his thrusts as his seed flooded her womb. Willow's eyes rolled back in her head, moaning loudly as she came alongside her lover, their juices mixing inside her cunt. Even though it was a safe day, there was no way she wouldn't be impregnated afterward, though it wasn't the first time. She moaned contently, knowing he was nowhere close to being done. Sure Winter wouldn't mind if she stole her lover's seed.

Atlas Military base, Winter's quarter.

Winter screamed into her hand as she came. She laid on her bed with her other hand inside her pants, rapidly pumping her fingers inside her drooling snatch. She could hardly wait to visit Schnee Manor and reunite with Jaune. Ever since he entered her life, living had been much better than what it used to be. Especially since the death of her bastard father. That was the day she finally gave herself to I'm. Pinning him to her bed she rode him like a horse forcing every drop of sperm from him til she looked pregnant.

*Jaune....*she thought as she rode out the last seconds of her orgasm.

She wanted him to com with her, but he declined, saying he was nothing more than a guard for the Schnee family, and she needed him no longer. It broke her heart to hear him say those words, but she knew he wanted her to walk her own path. Though she made sure to return home to see him whenever she could. She knew her mother and sisters would use him too, but she knew he longed to her.

*I will make you mine* she thought as she pulled the covers over her *You'll see*

with that last promise, she fell asleep. Dreaming of when her knight slew the foul beast that imprisoned her.

He truly was a good boy.

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Sent by @dumbawesomev69

Hope you like it.

Also it is implied that jaune killed Jacques

[starlight-archer]

Fic Request for @ckxep "Charles and Edwin being dumb teenage boys"

They're having a little holiday weekend!

It was the first month of Autumn and things had finally slowed down at the office. They had had a busy few weeks and they had all decided that they were long due a break.

Initially, they had struggled to come to an agreement on where to go, but then the classic British September heat wave had hit and Niko had eagerly suggested that they all go to the beach.

Charles was immediately eager, it having been a long time since they had gone to one outside of a casework. He was practically already in his swim shorts and flip flops before she had even finished her sentence.

Edwin hadn't really been to the beach much while he was alive. There had been a lake on his family's estate, and there was the one Summer when he was twelve, when he had been sent to the seaside "for his health" (though he hadn't actually been allowed on the beach or in the water, and his aunt Beatrice had kept trying to feed him nettle soup).

All that to say that they had leapt at the idea.

They had debated for a while about where to go, but in the end they had settled on a two day trip to Cornwall. They had taken the train into a seaside town called Hayle from London Paddington, and Crystal had rented a chalet at a small holiday resort that had it's own private beach.

Once they arrived, they quickly realised that they would have to wait for the following day for the beach.

It was raining. A lot.

So, Charles pulled a couple of umbrellas out and they headed over to the supermarket to stock up on snacks before checking in to the chalet.

The place was pretty spacious inside, with a small kitchenette, a compact lounge with a coffee table, an open area and then two bedrooms and a small bathroom.

They set up in the small sitting area and broke out the snacks, had an afternoon of board games that Charles had brought along. Half way into it, they had started a game of Charles and Edwin throwing popcorn and gummy sweets, and Niko and Crystal trying to catch them in their mouths.

At one point, they had also made a game of seeing how many marshmallows they could fit in their mouths (Edwin had cheated by letting them phase partially through him and they embrassingly hadn't noticed until he got to ninety-seven).

The next day, they had all gotten into their beachwear and headed down to the seafront. It was a picturesque little area and due to the time of year, most of the others there were middle-aged or elderly couples (likely there in September because all of the families with children had gone back home with the end of the Summer holidays).

Crystal set up their wind shield and parasol while Niko laid out the beach towels and found rocks to weigh down the corners.

Charles put his backpack down and opened it up before pulling out two decently large shovels, both with wooden poles and brightly coloured plastic handles.

He gave Edwin a look, grinning and raising his eyebrows.

"Shovels?" Edwin looked at Charles curiously as he took the blue shovel in his hands.

"Shovels!" Charles echoed, waving his own, bright red shovel excitedly.

He brought Edwin over to a patch of sand that was a little bit damp at the top. The tide was on its way out, so they wouldn't have to worry about having to move across the beach.

"What are we doing with these?" Edwin asked, already having an idea, but still being unsure.

"Digging a hole!" Charles exclaimed.

"A hole..."

"A really big hole!" Charles made the first move to bury his shovel in the sand and toss the contents to the side. "Come on!"

Edwin hesitated for a moment, but when Charles carried on, he decided to join in. If nothing else, he was curious about the appeal.

One hour and twenty minutes later and the appeal had become more than apparent.

Edwin and Charles had managed to dig down deep enough that their heads were barely visible over the brim of the hole and it had become wide enough for at least three people to fit in there (granted, uncomfortably, but still).

"Well, I must admit that this is a strangely rewarding endeavour." Edwin said, digging his shovel into the lump of sand at his side.

"Mate! It's digging a massive hole, it's brills! It's like human nature, innit?" Charles beamed.

It felt good to do something so pointless and fun, just for the sake of it, without having any additional purpose or end goal. Just dig a hole. A really big hole. And then hope you don't accidentally make it too deep to climb out without help.

When they were done with the hole, they rejoined Crystal and Niko by the parasol and dragged them over to see the hole.

"Holy shit!" Crystal laughed. "It's like six feet deep!"

"You guys! That's crazy!" Niko hesitantly leaned over the side to peer in. "it's like the mountain of sand you dug out just makes it look even deeper."

"You basically dug a pond."

"Pretty cool, yeah?" Charles put his hands on his hips and looked incredibly proud of all their hard work.

"Pretty cool." Crystal smiled, holding back the rest of her giggles.

They all took a splash in the sea, then spent the rest of the day lounging, waiting after they had packed up for the wave that finally reached the hole and filled it up to the brim, knocking half of the dug up sand back in at the same time. They cheered.

Walking back up the path, Charles suddenly darted ahead. "Oh, yeah!" he cheered and when he turned back around, brandishing two large sticks that he had picked up from the bushes.

He threw one to Edwin, who deftly caught it. "En guarde!"

Without another word the two of them took a fighting stance and started "sword fighting" with the sticks, carrying on until they were almost back at the chalet, where Edwin finally managed to disarm Charles, sending the stick flying off to the left.

Before the sun had set, they finished packing up their overnight supplies, picked up some takeaway chips for the journey, and headed back to the train station. There would be one changeover at Plymouth and then they would be on their way back to London.

Vacation well spent.

[kryptznnn]

♡- Let Me Know [III]

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➸ INTERESTS; -atwow!neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

➸ BACKGROUND; -As the omatikayan family takes refuge within your clan, it seems sparks begin to fly when tension rises with the oldest brother and yourself over a shared family dinner. The question isn't what'll happen between you two, it's what'll you do to prevent things from getting further.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.3.3k, angst kinda sorta, injury mention, blood mentions, open wound care, romantic tension, seizure mentions, care, scar mention, nearly kissing, romantic confessions kinda sorta

➸a.i; - hello omg im so sorry im late i was being followed by some random in a grocery store 😓, anyways im back love u guys, working on the jjk fic now should be posted within a few hours or tmrw morning!!

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚

♡- Let Me Know [II]

♡-Let Me Know Masterlist

You sighed as you drew another mark on the wall, that’s a total of 15 marks. It had been 15 days since you had stayed within the village or even seen the Sully family. You knew you needed a break, but honestly guilt was eating you up inside, you missed everyone.

You had seen your family occasionally, stopping by for meals or rest at certain times. You had also been within the village for small periods of time, mainly for the children, and unfortunately haven’t come across any of the other Sully members other than Tuk.

You had really wanted to see Neteyam more than anyone else, deciding it was a proper timing to talk things out with him to see where you two really stand. Now of all times during your break was probably one of the worst times though, thankfully your family was understanding. They had explained they already told the others of your break and to take your time through it all.

If anything, when you did get back Neteyam wouldn’t even be part of what you had in store. You had to speak to your brother and clear the air, the way things ended weren’t for the best. Even on your day-to-day occurrence of stopping by your mauri pod he wouldn’t be there, and apparently always asked for you.

It made your stomach twist slightly, your head felt like it was splitting in half, and you didn’t know what to do. You were too hurt to even think of any-

“Y/n?” You heard a familiar voice asking from behind you, you whipped your head around quickly to see A’tan. Surprise was plastered on your face, then quickly turning into confusion.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked him, turning back around as you watched him walk in further, sitting beside you and looking at the chart you carved into the wall. He smiled at you softly, then handed you a small blue conch shell which you immediately recognized.

“My sister told me you’d be here, she said you took her here before, wanted me to give you this.” He spoke as you took the shell into your hands with a soft smile, remembering Riti.

You thanked him and you two began small conversation. He soon led towards the point of what had happened two weeks ago and asked what had happened for your outburst. Apparently everyone that was there did spread the news onto the entire clan, and no one was willing to tell him what happened to you, you only sighed and huddled your knees to your chest.

“A couple of years ago, I was with Ao’nung, as he wanted to show me something special he had found with his friends. I went along with him of course, but we only went with my ilu. He stupidly went beyond the reefs and I chased after him, unfortunately we cross paths with a pxazang.” You paused, remembering that day as it was the only thing that would replay in your head over and over.

“I was able to distract it, calling back for my ilu and telling Ao’nung to go back home and get our father to help, knowing if we both left it would've followed after us. The most damage I did when he was away was cut its eye, but that only made him more aggressive… and he gave me this as a souvenir." You paused, pointing to your back as you moved your hair to the side slightly before speaking again.

"It’s funny because I had passed out from the injury and floated to the top of the ocean and my father kept mentioning how he was only able to locate me because my blood left a trail in the ocean to direct him towards me.” You spoke, shaking your head and smiling awkwardly to the idea of it all.

“I don’t know I want to get over it, but it feels impossible honestly, like-“ You stopped, thinking to yourself for a moment as A’tan spoke, not listening to a single word he said when an idea clicked in your mind.

All you had to do was face your problem head on, right? Then things would be easier for you. Yeah, they would be easier, you just had to find the pxazang and get all of this energy out. It was years ago and even so you damaged its eye, it couldn’t be that hard.

You quickly shot up, grabbing your equipment and weapons before thanking A’tan. He looked at you in confusion and asked you numerous questions, you only shooed him off and made him exit, as you did soon behind him.

Hopefully you wouldn’t die.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚

Your breath was ragged as you made your way back inside of your cave after petting your new animal goodbye. You held your side as you limped inside slowly, sitting down in front of your bedding and pulling out your herbal mixtures you had taken from home days ago.

You placed the paste on your side, your thigh, and upper arm. The cool sensation relieving the pain from your body and prior warm blood that trickled down it. You smiled to yourself, thinking back to your victorious moment, you were alive, and you had also bonded with the pxazang.

You thought to yourself how your family would’ve taken the news, definitely not well. You would’ve been scolded and seen as crazy for doing such a thing, but it bought a sort of comfort towards you. If you could beat such a creature there was no doubt you could do anything, especially speaking with your brother and the eldest Sully son.

You soon picked up your large shawl, placing your arms through the holes you had cut and placed the large hoodie over your head, now covering your body. You dug into your small pouch tied to your side and picked out the tooth of the pxazang.

You smiled softly as you got a small cord and wrapped it around tightly, securing it in place before tying it behind your neck and wearing it as a necklace. You looked over to the side, looking at the reflective surface on your wall and smiled looking at the necklace before hearing multiple people rushing into your cave.

You whipped your head around to see A’tan rushing inside alongside with your siblings and Roxto, you quickly stood up once you saw them all. A confused expression was worn on your face as you placed your hands to your side, before your sister immediately jumped into your arms hugging you tightly.

You smiled softly and hugged her back, biting your bottom lip as you winced and held in the pain from her pressing on your arms and sides. The two of you shared no words with one another, you looked past her shoulder to see your brother looking at the two of you, hurt in his eyes.

“Ao’nung” you said softly, your voice fairly hoarse. You motioned for him to come to you as you frowned at him, you sister let you go and you placed both hands on each side of his cheeks, cupping them.

You brought his head down to yours and pressed your forehead against his, as you two would do all the time when you were little and hugged him. Tears in your eyes and he only buried his head on your shoulder. You apologized to him profusely, over and over without fail, as he did to you, saying it wasn’t your fault and that he deserved it.

You soon shared your hugs with everyone inside, and they ushered you out as something terrible had happened to one of the Sully children. Before they could even go into detail about the seizure or how it started you darted out, calling for your ilu and speeding your way towards the shore of your family's mauri pod.

“Mama! Mama!” You shouted, pushing past all of the foreign objects and devices outside that made such loud noises as you made your way inside. Quickly flipping the beaded entrance to the side, you saw your mother who kneeled beside a body, Kiri’s body.

You greeted her quickly with a hug and walked around on the opposite side of her body. Placing a hand on her forehead, then her lower stomach. Her body was freezing, you frowned slightly taking in her unconscious expression and removed your shawl as your mother grabbed her needles to use on her torso.

You placed your shawl over her legs, and grabbing another cloth near you, rolling it up into a spiral like figure and placing it underneath her head to keep it elevated. Wincing as your body wouldn’t let you make that many movements as fast as you wanted from your wounds.

You took a deep breath and focused on your mother’s movements, mimicking her and keeping your hands over Kiri, praying for her. Honestly through your rush and prayers you hadn’t even realized everyone’s eyes on you.

Especially Neteyam, whose eyes hadn’t left your figure as he saw you sprint across the sandy beaches and into your pod. It wasn’t surprising for them to be shocked by your presence before them, it was the fact your body had suffered significant injuries.

Of course, your mother had taken note of this, her eyes not leaving your body nor Kiri’s. She took a good look at the necklace around your neck before huffing, to which you opened your eyes and asked if she was alright. She looked down at Kiri as she pointed a finger at your collarbone to where the necklace had rested against your skin.

“Where did you get that?” She asked, now placing her hand down and slightly poking Kiri again, a feeling of nervousness washed over you. You looked down at your hands and the bandaging on your left thigh, playing at it for a little.

“I made it from a tooth I found” you replied honestly. You weren’t lying, you did make the necklace, and you did find the tooth. Only in the palm of your hand after you had tied the mouth of the pxazang shut so you could climb atop it.

She only shook her head, before she could say or accuse you of anything else further and finding out the truth you only changed the topic, saying it was more important to focus on Kiri as of now.

And the two of you did.

Well,

Both families did, they all waited for her awakening. The children all sat together, Riti was accompanied by Tuk and A’tan, while Lo’ak sat with Tsireya, as you sat alone with your mother and Neytiri with Kiri. You only looked over your shoulder occasionally to catch Neteyam catching glimpses of you, then soon turning in the opposite direction and looking back at sea.

You stood up and excused yourself, watching as the colors were drained from the sky as night arose again. You walked over to him and took a seat beside him, hudding your knees to your chest.

You looked over at him briefly, placing one hand over your legs and another in the sand. He locked eyes with you, looking at you with a frown before wetting his lips and parting them.

“I’ve missed you” he spoke, looking out into the sea yet again, you only frowned and did the same. You felt your fingers bristle against one another for a brief moment, but you felt comfort for a while and didn’t move it.

His hand was warm, really warm. It clashed against your own cool skin as you had come from the water not too long ago, not even having time to properly dry your body off. The wind blew against the two of you for a moment before you spoke.

“I’m sorry, and I’m sorry about your sister also. I should’ve been here.” You said, hurt in your voice as you spoke to him, he only shook his head and smiled at you. Admiring your attitude and compassion towards the situation, and with your aid alongside your mother.

“It’s alright, your sister said you were taking a break because you weren’t feeling well.” He said with a pause, looking at your body before turning back and speaking again. “But it seems that you returned more beaten than you left” he joked, you chuckled at his response as he motioned towards your bandages.

After a moment of silence and short glances and bashful eyes towards one another you cleared your throat. Sitting with your legs crossed as you took a deep breath and turned, now sitting and facing his side.

He only raised a brow but copied your movement. Now sitting across from you and looking into your eyes, trying to find something. Whatever it was he was looking for was soon shut down as you closed your eyes and lowered your head before opening them again, looking into your lap.

“We need to talk” you said softly, looking up at him as you fidgeted with your fingers. He hadn’t seemed nervous at all, still keeping a confused expression on his face before he spoke.

“We’re talking now aren’t we?” He said, pointing between the two of you, making you smile softly as you shook your head at him.

“I mean we have to talk about us, or whatever is going between us. More importantly what you feel for me or for how long it’s been happening...” You lingered on, he made an expression saying he understood what you meant and smiled at you.

“You’re very beautiful, I’ve told you that since we first properly met. Your attitude and determination is also beautiful, how you care for my siblings as if they’re your own or the others of the village is admirable.” He spoke honestly, looking into your eyes as he muttered each word.

As you looked at him in shock you turned your head to the side, feeling a heat creep up poke at your face as you twisted your lips. You had only felt this issue out of embarrassment at certain times, so why now? In the corner of your eye, you caught onto Neteyam playing with the sand before speaking again.

“Over the time you were away I was able to think about you or more of how I saw you. I saw you as more of a friend, and my siblings even bullied me about it for a while.” He laughed, his eyes now glued to the sand as you turned back and listened to him speak.

“Even though we don’t personally know each other as well as I’d like us too, I feel like I’ve known you forever. My entire being longs for yours whenever you’re away, and even just seeing you makes me happy, we don’t even have to speak.” He smiled to himself as he spoke, your heartbeat quickened at his words. Unaware of what to say or do, shock now completely overwhelming you.

Truth be told you did feel the same way towards Neteyam, towards a certain extent at least, his emotions seeming more extreme than yours. Out of embarrassment and lack of understanding of course you kept it under wraps and never wished to explore it further, but as he sat here and said all of this it only made you question yourself.

Between the short time you two had spent together you compared it to what your mother had told you about how she felt for your father. Mentioning to you that these are things you should look for within a man in the future you wish to pursue a life with.

Someone who is attractive, and without a doubt Neteyam Sully was a fine man. A man who could make you laugh or bring a sense of comfort or happiness whenever you’re with him. You quickly thought back to the feeling the pit of your stomach would make whenever he would simply touch you or speak to you, let alone look at you the way he does.

You smiled at him, strongly as he lifted his head up. You quickly took your hand into his and only nodded softly. He soon pulled you into a hug, both of his hands on your lower back. It was soothing and also terrifying, his strength was unbelievable, and yet he was so gentle with you as you hugged him back. You closed your eyes, still wincing through the pain and grunting softly as you patted him softly.

It seemed to him without even opening your lips to say a word he was able to understand everything you were telling him by just looking into his eyes. That’s what he had been trying to do for so long, read you.

Now that he had read your true intentions and the messages you were sending him, he was beyond happy. Honestly, he had practiced alone how he would speak to you when the day came, now it’s happy to see his work paid off.

As you two pulled apart from the hug your eyes or hands never left one another. Just as your heartbeat had settled it was risen again, the tension between the two of you was thick, now it seemed as if he wasn’t looking into your eyes for a response, but permission.

You placed a hand on his cheek, cupping it as you placed the other one past his ear, your fingers grazing against the back of his head. He placed a hand on your lower jaw, one of his fingers dangling down underneath it. As he rested his other hand by the side of your neck, careful to not grab you throat as he leaned in.

You nodded softly, to which he grinned from ear to ear as his fangs poked out from his mouth slightly. He kissed you on your forehead as you pressed your eyes shut, only to open them again. Looking at him as he smiled cheerfully at you, you only rolled your eyes and sat up straight, now ready to start the first kiss between you two.

He smirked at you, already seeing what position you were taking as he placed one hand now on your lower waist. As your lips grazed against one another before pressing you heard cheering and cries from the children inside. Quickly you pulled back from Neteyam, pushing him off of you and falling back first in the sand with a thud.

Without haste both Riti and Tuk came outside towards the two of you and jumped up and down screaming. Startling you as you now rolled over to stand up, looking back at Neteyam who was rested back on his elbows with his legs stretched out, shooting you a cocky smirk as you rolled your eyes.

“Kiri’s awake she’s awake!” They shouted in unison as they jumped hand in hand, you and Neteyam both darted towards the entrance of your mauri pod. You led a front while he stayed right behind you, his breathing heavy on your skin as you shivered.

As the two of you walked inside he placed a hand on your lower waist yet again, to push past you to get to his sister as you took a spot by your mother. As everyone said their hellos and hugged Kiri, you kept sudden glances and smiles back and forth between Neteyam, as he did you.

Realization hit you slowly, the two of you had nearly kissed, let alone had been nearly caught. It wasn’t just any kiss for you either, your first kiss. Your first kiss would’ve been him.

You covered your mouth and placed your face in your hands as you felt the same heat as before creep up to your cheeks yet again.

So long to saying you’d prevent anything happening between the two of you.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[blueflipflops]

Instead of Jango surviving that attack at the Fett farm, it's Arla who gone on a tunnel visioned revenge plan on those who had wronged her and hers.

It has consequences.

She tackles her identity as a mandalorian through many adventures across the galaxy as a bounty hunter, amassing quite the reputation. There's no Jaster Mereel to save her. The infighting in True Mandalorian Faction (Monstross) killed him off and the faction was left without a leader but also a very dead traitor.

Arla kills Palpatine.

Is it a good thing or a bad thing? She doesn't know but she's not sticking around long enough to find out.

...

Qui-gon Jinn dies in Melida/Daan and Jedi master Tahl was too late to save him. She took in his padawan and helped the Young faction brokering peace in their planet through the blood, sweat and tears, they pushed through and the Young finally had an adult they can trust.

They still didn't have back up, no. The Elders ransacked Tahl's ship and it's too risky to sneak out to it anyway but Tahl did her best to be the responsible adult in the middle of a heart breaking war between children and their own parents. She tried her best to shield Obi-wan and the Young but the horrors of war touches everyone.

She did her best. And when the day finally comes for the peace talks, it still went to shit. A young boy named Neild still dies and the Young, grieving and angry, blamed the jedi for his death and chased them off the planet.

Tahl still held onto her new charge. Try to help him even after they get back to the Temple. Try to heal together. Learn together.

Obi-wan was returned to Temple based learning in the meantime while he heals both physically and mentally. He hangs out with his friends. Reconnect with other jedi. Being a child he is meant to be.

Tahl continues to heal.

To work and train so that she can save more people than lose another. She meditates on each of the Young's death. She contacts the Temple Corps to discreetly send help to Melida/Daan. Even if they won't accept their help at first.

'Food is always welcome in that place.' She thought grimly as she remembers the gaunt faces of such young beings that were meant to be cherished but alas the galaxy is a cold hard place.

This strengthens her resolve to bring light to the ever darkening galaxy, even a flicker to those under darkness is a warmth uncompared.

It took quite a while to convince the council to let Tahl accept Kenobi as her padawan but with the state of the young boy they worry for an unhealthy attachment. In the end, they let her.

A woman who chose him and taught him the best that she can. They had a good partnership and slowly they both healed together.

One day they recieved a mission to protect Queen Amidala and in their mission they met a woman who is incredibly bright in the Force.

Her name was Shmi Skywalker and she is a slave.

Their current situation made freeing the woman difficult but Tahl did not give up. Somehow, someway, Tahl managed to get their ship parts and smuggled out a few bands of slaves along with them.

Tahl helped them remove their chips and offered them a ride with them in their newly repaired ship, courtesy of Shmi's handiwork, despite initial disagreements from the young queen's guards. The queen gave her word to help still, as thanks to their assistance also.

'It might be a tight squeeze though.', she apologized.

Not all of them accepted her offer. Some had family in the planet before they were stolen. Some were desperate to leave the place and accepted immediately.

One of them were Shmi Skywalker.

They continued as planned.

Maul arrived the scene, young and brimming with drive to prove hinself to his master only to fall to Jedi Master Tahl's lightsaber.

They continue as planned.

The political situation did not get better. The fought and fought and—

Gunray is still arrested and Palpatine was still elected Chancellor but there is a young woman in Coruscant that shines so bright that it threatens his darkness. Nevertheless. He will continue, unknowing of the force of nature said woman would bring.

Tahl gently brought Shmi and the others to the temple to help them. Jedi Master Shaak Ti was entrusted to assist them as they were slightly more comfortable with her than the other healers.

She felt Shmi's brightness shining through the dark fog of Coruscant and understood why Tahl trusted her with their check up.

But what to do, she is clearly too old to be a jedi. But never too old to recieve help from one or a few.

It is a Jedi's nature to help after all.

After checking their health for anything that needs immediate help, the Togruta talked them through the options they now had and how the Jedi can help them.

Some joined the temple to help with the corps, some accepted their assist of subsidy to travel to a refugee friendly planet that can take them in to start a new life.

Shmi Skywalker was given a choice. It was the first in her life that she was given such a multitude in choices.

She stayed at the temple long enough to heal, she helped around the temple with whatever skills she may offer. They offered her education she did not have the choice to have back when she was a slave.

She accepted.

She healed, she lived, she learned, she rages at the injustice and she— well, she has the freedom to choose now, doesn't she?

Shmi chose to help free other slaves and, with the help of Tahl, Shaak Ti and other jedi both Corpsman and Knights, managed to collect funds and materials to return to Tatooine.

To start a revolution.

It was but a droplet of water in the not so serene lake that is the galaxy yet the ripples form quite a large picture.

They all walk the their paths of Destiny. It changes nothing yet everything. But what is 'nothing' and what is 'everything' in this galaxy where everybody has to live?

Reverse Star Wars AU writing challenge: every time canon fridges a mother, fridge the father instead. Every time a woman dies for the sake of Manpain™️, kill off the dude instead.

(I know this gets particularly complicated with Obi-Wan, because his woman-who-died-in-my-arms count is in the double digits at this point, but I have faith fandom can find a way.)

The only rule is that the story cannot be about a man. It cannot be about man angst. It has to center the women.

[serpentface]

FAMILY TITLES AMONG THE HILL TRIBES

(ft. various linguistic notes and tangents)

In-universe Brakul’s self-given title of ‘Red-Dog’ is Brakul 'ne-Dainh' in his native language (Bict-Urbinnas dialect of the Highland language group) and Brakul 'Chin-Reyla' in Wardi. Ne-Dainh/Chin-Reyla is not something he treats as or considers an actual surname or identity, just a self-styled nickname. He already has a title.

Family names/surnames are not a native practice among the Hill Tribes (though some clans or individual families have adopted this practice), and all traditionally use titles that designate immediate ancestry, clan and tribe. These full titles are officially given when one comes of age and are spoken aloud in ceremony (with the entire direct male and female lines listed by name, with most traditions expecting 12 generations of each being named).

The function is to cement one’s sense of place in the world, and their place in a direct ancestral line, which puts the person under the full watch and guidance of their ancestors. It's also a critical method of recording lineage- the long held practice of each person memorizing at least 24 total direct ancestors allows for very long, largely accurate records of family history to be kept, with some people able to trace their ancestry all the way back to initial settlement of the Highlands (or even beyond).

Brakul’s full title is:

“Brakul virsum Kuligan et Borunil an Briyonis ne-Taig an Bict-Urbinnas”

Which dead literally translates to “Brakul son of Kuligan and Borunil of the Foothills (of) Red-Cattle, of the North (Urbin/Erubin) River Valley” but has a much richer meaning in the original language.

"BRAKUL VIRSUM KULIGAN ET BORUNIL"

The actual meaning here is closer to ‘Brakul, son of Kuligan and his father’s fathers, and Borunil and her mother’s mothers’.

“Virsum” means ‘child (son/daughter) of’ (the gender is contextual), but implies the person’s status as a descendant of a full male and female line of ancestors. A different word is used if you’re just saying ‘I’m so and so’s son”. The title describes him as a son of his father Kuligan and of Kuligan’s male line, and of his mother Borunil and Borunil's female line.

All ancestors (within this particular system of kinship, divided into one direct male line from the father and one direct female line from the mother, and not including husbands from the female line or wives from the male line) are invoked and credited with the word ‘virsum’. Speaking it as part of the personal title is part of the routine and necessary honoring of one’s ancestors, who watch over their descendants from the afterlife and can temporarily return to the land to guide and protect (and sometimes punish, or teach sharp lessons to) the living.

"AN BRIYONIS NE-TAIG"

The actual meaning here would be understood as ‘clan/people of the foothills where cattle are lit red by the setting sun'.

‘Briyonis’ is the word for ‘foothill’, citing his clan’s specific location being the foothills that form the slopes of the north Urbin river valley. He is of a lesser clan within the powerful North Urbin River tribe. His clan benefits from close affiliation to their more powerful ruling clans located directly in the river valley, which grants them access to a greater variety of cultivated foods, but their actual position in the foothills still renders them predominantly reliant on cattle for subsistence. Clan names referencing cattle or horses are very common, given their frequent centrality to life.

The ‘ne-Taig’ literally means ‘red cattle’, but the ‘ne’ color word for red specifically invokes shades of red seen in and cast by a rising/setting sun. This red cast is culturally regarded as a unique beauty and evocative (and part of the name) of the solar god Hraighne. The foothills his clan is physically located on are a vantage point from which the western horizon is not fully obscured by mountains, and they experience very striking sunsets and are directly touched by the light. This is fairly unique to this location, and is invoked in the clan name and identity. ‘Ne-Taig’ here suggests a visual of grazing cattle illuminated red by the sun as it crosses the horizon.

‘Ne-Dainh’ carries the same implication, a dog illuminated red by setting sunlight. The Wardi language does not have a comparable word for a sunlit red and ‘Chin-Reyla’ really does just mean ‘(orangeish) red dog’ (‘reyla’ is specific to orangey-red colors, which is the closest match he could get. There’s no way to impart the meaning of ‘sunlit-red dog’ in Wardi that is non-clunky enough to be appropriate for a name).

"AN BICT-URBINNAS"

‘an Bict-Urbinnas’ is fairly simple, Bict means ‘north’, and 'Urbin' is the name of the specific river that stems from a northern and eastern tributary. This river has a very ancient name (or a derivative of one) that predates settlement by the Hill Tribes, and its exact meaning is lost.

The root -(n)nas designates a river valley, but has strong implications of being an esteemed and bountiful place, rather than solely a literal geographical descriptor (as the river valleys are centers of power and trade in the highlands). It may be a loanword from the Wardi language family, as its usage is VERY similar in form and function to the Wardi -(n)nos, which also suggests a place of esteem and bounty (more specifically having connotations of a kingdom).

’An’ literally means ‘of’, but in the specific sense of describing the place and identity of a collection of people. ‘an Bict Urbinnas’ would be understood in speech as ‘of the north Urbin River Valley (people)’. The clans historically settled in and around the valley of the North Urbin River form the totality of the Bict-Urbinnas tribe.

The ‘Urbin’ word predates the contemporary Wardi name ‘Erubin’ for the river, the latter of which invokes the semi-mythological founding figure Erub, who himself was of a Wardi tribe located downriver to the south of the Highlands. The real historically extant ‘Erub’ was most likely named Urub after the river, with his cited name shifting over the centuries in folklore, and the Wardi name for the river shifting with it.

‘Erubin’ as a corruption of ‘Urbin’ functions very well in Wardi language due to ‘-bi/bin’ denoting something as a ‘gift’, usually in a more metaphorical sense. ‘Erubin’ is understood as meaning ‘(The river that is) Erub’s gift’, and the Erubin/Urbin river is a key tributary to the much larger Black river, one of the key rivers that feeds the region's wetter and more fertile west. This 'gift' meaning also occurs in the name of the southeastern Imperial Wardi city-state Erubinnos, which is understood as meaning ’((The kingdom that is) Erub’s gift’. He is considered to have conquered and taken the land (from the core city's actual founders, the Wogan people) and established a kingdom there in the early days of warring Wardi tribal monarchies.

[maxiwaxipads]

City of Borealis, Briar Valley

(i promise i wrote this all in advance a long time ago and I'm not insane <3) The City of Borealis is the hub of Briar Valley’s most populous city with its nearby arcane institute, Grey Wings Institute. Over the years, technology has slowly been implemented throughout Borealis and built up its own population. Borealis was once a part of a befallen human nation which still continues many of its past traditions. (Note: The "War of Morrow" is related to Lilia's dream and that will be the name I will refer to it as) (I should mention this might not fully comply with the information we currently have with Book 7 or the Briar Valley itself. I wrote this a while ago.) (I didn't include all the information I have. Because if I did, finding the notes and piecing them together would be more trouble than necessary.)

Borealis has a known tradition of its Iridescent Festival that celebrates new hopes for prosperity and generates a supple amount of blessings throughout the city. Flowers themselves are decorated throughout the city, and many attendees are donned with them. This year’s Iridescent Festival is expected to be big and an invitation was forwarded to Malleus who’ll also bring you along.

From the rest of Briar Valley, the City of Borealis is quite distinct due to the Briar Valley’s lack of modernism. Borealis is populated with either students of the Grey Wings Institute, scholars, or the local population.

Compared to the rest of the Briar Valley, the City of Borealis is considerably more diverse and contains citizens from all walks of life.

Regarding technology within the City of Borealis, as mentioned before it’s a slow implementation. Despite being more modernized compared to other regions of the Briar Valley it carries technology considered outdated compared to other countries. (The same as everything else, anything regarding outside exports is largely outdated information or technology.) (Even information or materials arrive months or years later within the city) (Information outside the region is passed on slowly, and issues such as magazines or newspapers are often a few months or years old)

The current City of Borealis, it retains half its size than it was 400 - 500 ago. Due to the War of Morrow, its other half was shrouded within a suffocating mist originating from ancient incantation where all dies before there’s sunlight met. Anything that escapes its grasp is either the deceased or old ruins. Sometimes even rare plants curated from a high-magic density can be found growing around. (Cursed forest rumored to be caused by the ‘Rhizanthes Witch,’ or the Witch in Red after killing her king in the name of revenge) (Result of Ancient Incantation rather than natural phenomena, I imagine some try growing rare plants nearby for the amount of magic they hold in one place) (Heavily guarded to prevent anybody from accidentally or intentionally getting caught in the mist) (Though it is being studied, and there is research to see if the ancient incantation placed upon it can be removed)

I imagine one of the Iridescent Festival’s famous traditions is lantern-making. Thousands are released into the sky before they’re permitted to burn with the usage of magic after reaching a certain height.

The City of Borealis, while a territory of the Briar Valley, wasn’t originally a part of the nation, but was previously the royal capital of the Kingdom of the Dawn before its ultimate demise. (Lacked proper leadership, and was on a steady decline) (Compared to 500 years ago, the present is majorly different than the past)

Three Wise Sages (TWST version of the Three Good Fairies)

Wise Sages who've existed since the founding and falling of the Kingdom of the Dawn. Their existence has since been erased since the War of Morrow, with only 2 members of their bloodline believed to be existing.

Uri Ipomoea (Fauna's TWST) has sworn her loyalty to the Briar Valley’s heir apparent, Malleus Draconia. Employed as the Headmage to the Grey Wings Institute, and entrusted as the Lord of Borealis from the current queen.

Betrayed their kindred to side with humans to create the Kingdom of the Dawn. Saw potential with humanity. They are pacifist by nature and refused to participate in wars and battles, though it took the War of Morrow to topple their vows of nonviolence. Morrigan was forced to fight as a general, Aine was assassinated by King Henrik’s order, and Fianna fled after the death of Aine.

(I wrote a lot on these, but basically, Fianna is related to Flora, Morrigan is related to Merryweather, and Aine is related to Fauna)

(While pacifists, that doesn’t mean they weren't petty) (Fianna betrayed her creed of remaining peaceful and killed King Henrik) (Vanished, her fate is believed to be unknown) (Morrigan if you want to count her, though she was technically forced to participate as a general in the War of Morrow) (Aine was killed for her transgression of the war against King Henrik) (In front of Uri who witnessed the death of her mother)

Heralded as the “Three Wise Sages” for their dedication to education and learning. Their efforts led to the creation of the Grey Wings Institute as an arcane school sponsoring solely women. (Before confusing anyone, the present Grey Wings Institute sponsors all genders but first intended to only teach women)

(Could never teach Ancient Incantations in fear of starting a war with the Briar Valley(?)) (Though the sages personally practiced the usage of Ancient Incantations) (They’re able to demonstrate it, but never teach it)

(Originally, the reasons of the War of Morrow started because of King Henrik’s meddling and desire for conquest(?)) (While the Sages are an influential force in their own right, I imagine there isn’t much they can do, except lessen the impact)

(Infamous for their rivalry with the Fairy of Thorns(?)) (Their encounters are enough to make a novel series)

Similar to how Malleus comes from an egg, the sages are conceptualized as flowers. (They feed off their mother's magic until the flower itself can circulate magic on its own) (Basically, it's like asexual reproduction(?)) (that's why they have no dads <3)

Characters/OCs

Uri Ipomoea is the Headmaster of the Grey Wings Institute and the Lord of Borealis. Originally, it was Malleus's grandmother who was forwarded an invitation to the Iridescent Festival, but she forwarded it to Malleus. A young child during the War of Morrow, she is unconditionally loyal to the City of Borealis and strives to continue its growth. (Fauna's TWST)

Mirin Wich-Tree is Uri's adoptive sister and currently attending as a second year at the Grey Wings Institute. Vice-President to the Student Body. (Merryweather's TWST)

Rhodes Strangleweed is from the small village of Dregs on the outskirts of the Briar Valley. Her mother, Fianna Rhizanthes came to this village after her murder of King Henrik. Rhodes is unaware of her mother's true identity until meeting Uri. A 2nd year attending the Grey Wings Institute, a member of the sewing club. (Flora's TWST)

(i have a lot written about them, this is only a gross summary of their characters </3) (all 3 are fae) (fun fact!! they all share the same signature spell but have different incantations) (that are all longer than necessary)

(i have other OCs on GWI's other students, though they aren't relevant to the Iridescent Festival story sadly) (mainly on the student council)

Unique Flora

Sillows are a species of flower within the Briar Valley cultivated to create textile fabrics from its thorny shrubs. Although most abundant within the Briar Valley they occur naturally throughout Twisted Wonderland. Their petals are also collected to make floral teas, as described sweet and savory.

(I imagine because of the Briar Valley’s abundance of naturally occurring magic, Sillows from this region are more flexible when it comes to manipulating fabric with magic itself)

(Like it’s more dynamic to use magic to manipulate the fabric’s form(?)) (They’re quite abundant and considered a culturally special flower to the Briar Valley and the Dawn)

Unique to the Briar Valley, Lumin flowers are known for their luminescence that glow similar to an aurora in the dark. Their natural light is dim, though channeling magic within these flowers will also cause them to simmer even more. Lumin flowers are specially decorated during Iridescent Festivals and glow even brighter when blessings are distributed throughout the city. (Wither once plucked)

(Thousands surround the city) (First appearing as tucked flowers that have yet to bloom) (Decorated during a planned performance of the "Primordial Prayer")

Iridescent Festival

Unique within the City of Borealis which was once a part of a befallen nation, the Iridescent Festival is the celebration of new hopes and prosperity. Thousands of unique flowers are decorated across the city with lanterns symbolizing and hanging to mimic stars. Festival participants don cascading costumes made for dancing and may find themselves wearing decorated hats reminiscent of the wise sages. (<-Often these hats are plain and unadorned for loved ones to embroider and decorate on) (But some might like making unique hats of their own)

During the Iridescent Festival, GWI opens its doors for visiting hours with school activities paused for about a week. Students and faculty host food stalls, games, and performances. I imagine GWI is basically a cultural exchange and more untraditional instead of what the rest of Borealis offers.

Primordial Prayer [Love Stretching Aeon]

Once integral to the Iridescent Festival until the death of Borealis’s Sages, the “Primordial Prayer” is expected to take place upon the final day of the festival which releases numerous blessings founded on good luck and betterment for the future. During the Primordial Prayer, thousands of Lumin flowers glitter luminously throughout the City of Borealis.

The Primordial Prayer itself is a blessing crafted by the Three Wise Sages to inspire hope and bring happiness to the people. Celebration towards hopes of the future and meant to inspire happiness in anyone who comes forth across the spell.

A powerful incantation that only the Three Wise Sages kept to themselves and could solely perform. It’s a potent blessing that shows itself like embers of snow.

Lumins under the performance of the Primordial Prayer are said to glow yellow which is often compared to the stars.

Considered to be a once-in-a-lifetime to those who witness the Primordial Prayer, it’s often played during the last day of the Iridescent Festival. Those who experience the Primordial Prayer firsthand often describe it as comforting and beautiful.

Full Incantation - “Love surmises my existence, feast upon my heart, and nourish from the accomplishments I’ve curated for those I developed yearning.

I, desperate for a beloved’s eternity, understand this as a fraught wish.

Awake your long-held dreams from slumber, as I cast the snowy plain of stars from the heavens onto you. 

Longing, as this moment defines devotion and relaxing the weight upon the waking days.

Illuminate the unchained glisten of the suns and moons, as I cascade a blinding hope upon your hearts. 

Primordial whispers, answer to my call; Primordial skies, answer to the delimited daybreak. This devotion shall hold longer than nigh. Primordial Prayer.”

[nervouslittlewreck]

Daddy issues, but in the 'I cry reading about Mortimer Folchart caring for children' kinda way

[4lexnilsen]

“are you aware of this very special talent of yours?   how you make everything way more fun than it really is?”   alex coos with a sweet,  boyish smile,  watching as poppy’s lips close around the still warm cinnamon roll.   he laughs as crumbs fall onto the floor between them,  the pad of his thumb dusting off her chin.   he’s loved baking ever since he can remember.   at first,  it was something that brought him closer to his mom or rather the memory of her.   then,  it became an effective way of keeping all his brothers occupied —   baking cookies for santa,  pumpkin pies for thanksgiving,  cherry pies as a sweet summer treat.   now it’s mostly a hobby,  and his love language.   after all,  nothing says i love you quite as homemade sweets.   and having poppy around,  either perched on the counter or hugging him from behind or adding some secret ingredients to his recipes,  never fails to make his heart soar.   “yeah,  no…   if you spell it out for me,  it’ll be the only thing on my mind until we get back home.   you don’t want to torture me like this.   i’ve got an idea.”   he beams at her,  feeding him and letting out these little moans of approval that always make his cheeks heat up.   those cinnamon rolls are really good,  though.   “oh,  we’ll do that.”   his nieces and nephews don’t know the difference between homemade goods and those store-bought.   they’ll be content as long as the sugar index is high enough to put a grown man in a diabetic coma.   

the nilsen’s family reunions are usually highly entertaining events.   their brothers turn into five year olds the second they cross the threshold of their childhood home,  their spouses attempt to keep them under control up until that third glass of wine and then dissolve into giggles and gossip,  the actual children are like chimpanzees on the loose,  and his father tends to get emotional every time the festivities come to an end,  but alex wouldn’t want to have it any other way.   being the self-proclaimed favorite uncle,  he is immediately swarmed by all the snot-covered gremlins,  sticky hands dragging him away to assist in the annual pumpkin painting / carving contest,  little voices ringing in his ears,  demanding his full,  undivided attention.    he has to,  once or twice,  explain to his six year old niece that poppy isn’t dressed as a female version of pennywise   (yes,  the hair is the same color.   yes,  it might be confusing.   no,  not all redheads are evil clowns.   yes,  some orange-haired politician are evil clowns,  but that’s beyond the point.)   and he’s not a victorian orphan,  but other than that it’s a fairly peaceful evening.   he ends up with glitter and bows in his hair,  lipstick on his eyelids,  but that’s nothing new.   they love turning him into a princess,  and he’s just glad to be included.   after all,  one day,  all these kids will be grown up and think he’s anything but cool.

“baby,”   he calls out from across the room,  seeing that she’s been chatting up with his dad and deciding to throw her a life raft in case she needs it,   “would you like to join us?   i don’t think i have the skill to help lily bring her vision to life,  but you’re real good with makeup.   i think you’re also good at painting pumpkins.”   his little niece beams at that,  her bleach blonde wig barely hanging onto her scalp,  that blue elsa gown all wrinkled after hours of playing with her cousins.   there’s paint on her cheeks and hands,  but she still jumps up to her feet and races to where poppy’s seated,  hoping to drag her to the floor so she can help her turn that big pumpkin into olaf.   “alex doesn’t know who olaf is,”   she explains with a sigh and a dramatic roll of her eyes,  hands on her hips as she judges her uncle for that embarrassing lack of knowledge.  

@sparelove

"of course i want to try it." as alex dips the knife into the icing, she's careful to place a hand beneath it as he lays it carefully across her tongue. "yeah, no. we can't bring that. i have to eat one right now." she smiles when she notices the pink of alex's cheeks. "you know what i mean, alex nilsen. don't be coy." she takes the knife from his hand and continues to ice the rest of the cinnamon rolls, teasing him all the while. "work it off meaning something akin to what we did this morning, and last night. would you like me to spell it out for you?" she scoops a roll onto a plate that sat close by, grabbing alex a fork so they could both try it. "i make no promises that we won't be late though, if we start…" poppy cuts a piece, waiting for him to open his mouth before pulling away. a moan of pleasure passes her lips when she tries a bite of her own. these may have been the best cinnamon rolls she's ever had. "we should just pick up those festive frosted sugar cookies on the way."

which is exactly what they did; and despite the looks of judgement from bryce when they arrive without what had been promised, poppy quickly shuts the second nilsen brother down. "i'm sorry, bryce, what was it you made for this party?" she asks as she sets down their container of cookies. when his eyes narrow on her, poppy pushes again, "it's my fault, not his. they were just too good to be wasted on the youth." byrce rolls his eyes with a laugh, "i'm not disappointed my children aren't getting to have any. i'm disappointed." she nods, "now that i understand."

after explaining to a few of alex's neices and nephews what their costumes were, and therefore also explaining that they weren't old enough to watch the film, poppy found herself sitting with mr. nilsen while everyone else carved pumpkins. "you know, i didn't used to let the boys even celebrate this holiday," he began, prompting a chuckle from poppy. "i do know as a matter of fact. your son and i had a fight about it earlier." the confession prompts a look of concern from alex's father but the blonde is quick to settle his worries. "about religion, more specifically. it worked itself out." there's a heavy sigh as mr. nilsen crosses his hands in his lap, looking across the room to his children and grandchildren were. "i didn't know any better." poppy nods before she settles an arm across his shoulders. "but now you do, and that's all that matters." the only point that meant something was that four well-rounded men were out in the world. they had families and lovers, great friends and careers that kept a roof over their heads. by all means, mr. nilsen was successful. no parent was perfect. but the love poppy felt from alex and the rest of his family was a job well done in her opinion. complicated relationship with religion or not, she was happier when she was around them.

[tariah23]

ur tags on that kenjaku post… oh my god you saw that too? i was truly horrified

YEAH… I saw that shit, I hate stsg so much lmfaooo. It’s so obvious that they want Getou to be the “girl,” so badly. He’s getting the treatment of every dark haired best friend in a popular shounen 🚶🏾‍♀️. He’s too good of a character for this!

[4thbrighteststar]

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