#I do know that usually the youngest take all the attention and the oldest takes all the expectations

[lonelyfresita]

Can we talk about how Dexter is the only brunette in his family and how that is a great representation of how invisible he is to his parents? My knowledge about blonde hair and genetics might be limited, but I do know that natural blonde hair is hard to maintain and that with time, it can become brown. So probably Dexter had blonde hair, but due to the lack of care coming from his parents and servants alike, it became brown.

Or you know, you can also say that he dyes his hair to be *☆•°different°•☆* but I like my theory more 😌

[ellecdc]

Soooo, I'm not the usual requester of the poly!moonwater x reader, but I fell I love with them and the way you write them!

With that being said, could I request Mia and Monty taking in Regulus and reader, saving them from their cruel families, and the holidays being absolutely hectic with everyone there.

Maybe some Mia and reader bonding?

If not that's fine! All my love,

🦕

*gasps* thank you lovely! I'm so glad you've loved moonwater enough to submit a request!!! sorry this took so long, I had this half finished and couldn't figure out for the life of me how to wrap it up happily, and then I was like "of course! Effie!" - not so much chaos but a lot of hurt/comfort and fluff

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through my older ones~

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

CW: toxic/abusive family dynamics, mentions and insinuations of abuse, your parents suck in this - I'm sorry, but just call me Euphemia Potter because you're all my children now

Remus had to admit that he was getting increasingly worried about you and Regulus the closer it got to the summer holidays. It seemed that no matter how much brighter the weather became outside, clouds were determined to follow the two of you around.

Remus only knew why Regulus would perhaps grow tense at the thought of returning to 12 Grimmauld Place on account of Remus’ years’ long friendship with Sirius. But the youngest Black, since reconciling with his older brother, has staunchly refused to discuss family life. Remus could accept that; he understood the gist.

But you, he was at a loss with. Though, he would admit that your occasional flinch at a raised hand or sudden quick movements by either Regulus or Remus spoke volumes on that end.

So here you all were (being Remus, you, Regulus, Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily) sitting by the Black Lake and enjoying the sun on one of the last few days of the school year, and you and Regulus were nearly comatose in your melancholy. 

Lily and Peter were doing their best to pretend they didn’t notice any tension in the group as they busied themselves with a game of wizarding chess, but James and Sirius had no such qualms and were staring hard between Remus and Regulus. 

“I told you that you could come with me, Reggie.” Sirius said surprisingly softly for the oldest Black. Regulus’ jaw twitched as he stole a fleeting glance at James.

“You told me that a year ago. I wasn’t smart enough to go then, I don’t see why I’d deserve that option now.” He muttered, sounding disturbingly more and more like the aristocratic Pureblood he was raised to be.

“It’s not about deserving, Reg.” Sirius said at the same time Remus said, “of course you do.”

“Honestly,” James interjected, “at this point, my mum would be pissed if you didn’t come live with us.”

Regulus’ face appeared to remain impassive, but Remus knew better; there were signs. His jaw tightened, there was a small movement in his left eyebrow and a subtle glossiness in his eyes.

Suddenly his gaze flit to Remus, his eyes almost begging him to understand something he hadn’t yet voiced. Remus held Regulus’ gaze until his eyes turned to something else; to you.

But it didn’t appear that you had heard any of the conversation going on around you; your eyes pointed to some unmarked point in the horizon, your mind far away.

“I can’t leave her.” Regulus whispered once he knew you wouldn’t hear.

“What’s the point of both of you suffering, Regulus? You can’t help her from Grimmauld Place.” Sirius argued. 

Regulus finally groaned, and Remus’ heart clenched knowing how close he was to frustrated tears. Remus felt just as close, feeling completely helpless in this situation. But his parents struggled enough supporting him alone. He knew that if he asked, his mum would have the two of you in a heartbeat, but the Potter’s had the space and funds to do it far more easily. 

“Y/N can come too.” James said plainly.

“Hm?” You hummed quietly, turning your attention back to the group at the sound of your name.

Regulus grimaced slightly but James, either ignorant to body language or choosing to ignore it carried on. “I was just thinking, we’re inviting Regulus to move in with us for the summer. Perhaps you could join us?”

You stared hard at James without breaking eye contact and Remus grew more and more tense the longer you stayed silent.

“It’s good that Regulus is staying with you.” You commented, sounding nearly robotic.

“You could-” Remus began, but you cut him off.

“Don’t, Remus.”

“Amour.” Regulus pleaded quietly.

“Leave it.” You ordered before standing and walking away. 

Regulus sighed and buried his face in his hands. Remus couldn’t stand it anymore and moved to sit beside him, rubbing soothing swipes up and down his spine.

“Your brother is right, love. You’ll be more help to her if you’re safe at Potter Manor. You need to be brave for the both of you right now.”

“She’s never told me either, you know?” Regulus spoke from inside his hands. “I have no idea what happens when she leaves here.”

Remus fought back the tears that threatened to infiltrate his eyes. “You’ll be more help to her from Potter Manor.” He repeated.

You’d been avoiding the boys, that much was certain. And even if you weren’t avoiding them, it was like you weren’t even there when you were sitting right next to them. Remus hated to think that this was the note you were all leaving on, knowing you’d not see each other again until September first. 

Regulus had agreed to stay with the Potters, though he refused to discuss with anyone what was said to his parents (or, perhaps more importantly, what his parents had said in return). 

So, they stood there in Central Hall with their bags and school trunks; James and Sirius arguing over what they were going to do first when they got to the Manor (in an attempt to hopefully lighten the mood for Reggie's sake) while Remus stared at Regulus’ face without pretending that he wasn’t, as his boyfriend stood painfully rigid.

You appeared then, the strap of your duffle bag thrown over your shoulder and your school trunk trailing behind you. Remus didn’t think he’d ever seen you look so forlorn.

It was like a switch was flipped in Regulus, and he went from a soldier standing at attention to cooing over your shorter frame.

“Let me get this, amour. Did you get everything packed okay?” He asked you softly, pulling your duffle bag gently from your shoulder to throw over his own. You barely nodded in acknowledgment, eyes staring at the ground unseeingly. Remus felt sick to his stomach.

“Okay.” Regulus murmured at you quietly, giving Remus a quick shake of his head as he went to move to you. Remus had this overwhelming urge to pick you up and huddle you under his arm, not letting go until you were all the way to Wales – where your family couldn’t get to you.

But Regulus perhaps understood your mindset better than he did.  

“Can Rem take your trunk for you?” Regulus asked, mostly as a means to invite Remus into the conversation and less trying to get him to be your pack mule.

“No.” You said as firmly as you could manage in this fragile state. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” You said, finally looking up to make eye contact with Remus and Regulus. 

Regulus, for his part, managed to smile sadly at you. Remus was sure his discontent was written all over his face.

“Ready to get this show on the road? Look at me, sounding all muggle.” Sirius called. One would think he sounded indifferent to what was going on, but Remus (and Regulus) could see this for what it truly was: distraction.

“No.” You whispered.

“What is it, lovie?” Remus asked, turning his attention quickly back to you.

“I’m not, I-” you took a few quick breaths, face scrunching up painfully as your eyes filled with tears. “I’m not ready, I can’t. I can’t go. I’m not...”

“Okay.” Regulus said softly.

“I can’t go back, I can’t - I’m not ready.”

“That’s alright.” Sirius offered just as softly. 

You were disturbingly close to hyperventilating – surveying your surroundings like you were looking for a place to run, looking for a way out. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You cried.

“Then don’t, love.” Remus pleaded. And you broke down into sobs. 

Something inside Remus snapped and he made for you, enveloping you in a hug that was probably far too tight, but you nuzzled impossibly further into his chest anyway as if he could perhaps hold your pieces together as you fell apart.

He’d find a way to do it for you if that’s what you truly needed.

As your gasping sobs ceased and your breathing evened into only the occasional hiccup, James let out a theatrical “Phew.”

“What?” Regulus asked, voice somewhat taut from both protectiveness and frayed nerves. 

“I sort of told my mum she was coming to live with us, anyway.”

Remus could have kissed the sod right on the mouth at that moment. He opted to kiss the top of your head instead. 

“I don’t want-”

“-to be in the way. You won’t be, amour.” Regulus interrupted your train of thought, voice far softer than the one he’d used with James.

“Yeah, Regulus is far more inconveniencing than you are, dollface.” Sirius snarked with a wink, earning him a quick stinging jinx from Regulus. 

If Remus had thought that the hard part was over in Central Hall, he was very wrong.

You had settled not too badly as you all rode the wagons to the train station holding onto Remus’ hand like a vice, and Regulus appeared to be far more comfortable now that he was less worried about you. Regulus undeniably had some abandonment issues, and the thought of going to the Potter’s without you left him with the sense that he would somehow be letting you down. Remus supposed that at least before, the two of you could commiserate together knowing that whatever you were going through, so was the other.

But as the group travelled on, some of your own tension returned the closer you got to Kings Cross Station. 

“You don’t have to say anything to them, you can just leave with us.” Sirius said plainly as Remus reached to grab your bags from the overhead compartment.

“That’d be considered kidnapping.” You responded quietly.

You hooked your duffle over your shoulder and stood, looking through the compartment as if you could somehow see your family through the sheets of metal separating you and Platform 9 ¾.

“Would...would you like us to come with you? Stand by your side? How would you like to do this, love?” Remus asked, leaning back slightly so he could see your face directly. 

You seemed to ponder that for a few moments before returning his gaze. “Maybe...maybe you guys could just, stay a little behind me? Not close enough to say anything or for them to say anything to you, just...”

“Close.” Regulus finished for you. You nodded in response.

“Consider it done, dove.” Remus said and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

James and Sirius spotted the Potter’s quickly after exiting the train and brought your bags and trunks to them so that the Potter’s elves could bring them to the Manor. You watched as your trunk disappeared with a pop; there was no going back now. 

“Y/N.” An indifferent tone called, causing you to stand up straighter, though you didn’t seem ready to turn your gaze towards it yet.

“We’re right here, amour. We’re not leaving without you.” Regulus insisted. Remus wanted to touch you, grab your hand, kiss your cheek, but he knew he’d have to wait until you felt safe.

Safe.

Soon you’d be safe.

True to their words, Regulus and Remus followed you towards your parents who stood poised like models in a Victorian Era portrait, staring down at you over their noses, though the two boys paused a good distance away as you had asked them too.

“I hate this.” Regulus murmured as you said hello to your parents. Your mother turned to leave before you asked them to wait.

“We’ll be able to take her home after this.” Remus placated, but it did nothing to soothe his own nerves either. 

“You’re doing what?” He heard your mother ask derisively. 

You repeated yourself, albeit quieter and more meekly than you had before. Remus wanted to hex her for making you feel so small.

“Absolutely not. Get your things.” Your father barked.

You raised your hand carefully, pointing towards the Potter’s to explain that they’ve already brought your things to their house.

“You insolent little witch. How dare you undermine me like this.” Your father spat and took a menacing step towards you. You stepped back quickly with a full body flinch, and that was it for Remus.

“We’re done. Let’s go.” Remus said authoritatively. “Come on, dove.” 

You needn’t be told twice, allowing Reg to steer you towards the Potter’s as Remus cast a quick muffliato around you to spare you from any trailing remarks your parents made. 

Remus and Regulus exchanged a worried glance over your head as you kept your eyes glued to the floor, letting yourself be guided blindly through the platform.

“Ready to go, dearies?” Euphemia Potter asked kindly, softly, as she beamed at the five students in front of her with Fleamont at her side. Even Remus felt like he had whiplash at the difference of atmosphere on this end of the platform; he couldn’t imagine how you or Reg were managing. 

“Hello, cariad!” Remus heard his mother call before any of you could answer Effie’s question. He turned his gaze to see his parents, Hope and Lyall Lupin, move through the crowds towards them.

“Gangs all here now!” Lyall called, and you tightened your hand currently enclosed safely in Remus’. He gave your three quick squeezes in return: a silent promise of safety. 

“This must be Regulus and Y/N!” His mum cheered, looking awfully close to embracing both of you. However, Regulus’ aristocratic upbringing appeared to save the day as he quickly stepped in front of you and stuck his hand out, bowing politely to her.

“Mrs. Lupin, it’s very nice to finally meet you.” He said, posh accent on full display.

Remus gave a pleading look to his family, knowing his mother was the kind to say “oh, I’m really more of a hugger.”

But apparently, one thing motherly love was very good at was reading the room, and his mum accepted the handshake before his dad, Effie and Monty all got one of their own. You nodded politely and exchanged a quiet ‘hello’ but opted to stay glued to Remus’ side.

He couldn’t say he minded that option entirely. 

Euphemia Potter was no stranger to troubled children showing up at her doorstep, but she couldn’t help but admit how different this time was.

Last year, Sirius showed up battered, beaten, bloodied, and bruised, not to mention completely scared out of his mind. And underneath all of that was this horrible fear for his younger brother’s safety, as well as an overwhelming sense of guilt for leaving him behind.

Sirius never really recovered from feeling like a burden, not last summer at least. He remained entirely too polite for Effie’s tastes, full of “thank you, Mrs. Potter”’s or “that really isn’t necessary”’s right up until the day she sent them off to Hogwarts.

“Now boys.” She said, giving the two troublemakers as stern a face as one Euphemia Potter could muster. “Though I would certainly prefer no trouble at all, can we at least promise not to get quite as many detentions this year? And for the love of Merlin – no more broken bones! I like that when people ask me how my sons are, I can at least say ‘well, at least they’ve got their health!’”

Effie was certain that the pressure behind Sirius’ eyes from fighting the tears must have been excruciating, but he held out for as long as he could before he launched himself into her chest. 

“Thank you, Effie.” He finally whispered through tears.

“Please, Sirius.” She whispered as she stroked the boy’s hair. “Call me mum.”

If last year was full of guilt, grief, and fear, this summer seemed to be full of caution, hope, and love.

Where James spent last summer trying to keep Sirius in as high spirits as possible, this year he got to simply play the role of host. Where Sirius spent last summer trying to stay out of the way and convince himself and everyone around him that he was completely fine, this year he got to show his brother what real family looked like.

And though he saw a lot of Sirius in Regulus, there was so much that was so distinctly him.

Regulus’ trauma came out in impeccable table manners, speaking in a manner far more suited to a member of parliament than a teenaged boy at a casual meal, and assessing the atmosphere in the room with the efficacy of a social weather man. 

But his personality was completely contradictory. 

He made jokes and comments that he didn’t seem to realize were funny until people around him laughed, which caused him to blush but let out surprised laughter of his own. Where Sirius’ jokes were performative and always for the sake of amusing the people around him, Regulus’ humour came naturally and unbiddenly. Where Sirius showed his love and excitement as loudly as possible in order to make sure everyone around him got to share in it, Regulus dutifully handed out his love and excitement in carefully curated doses. 

She loved them both beyond measure.

And you...well, Effie could certainly see how you managed to win over not one but two of her favourite young men. Your trauma seemed to come out in the form of fading into the background. Everything you did, you did quietly. You never asked for anything, whether it be for seconds at dinner, something to drink during the day, or to go into town to shop for supplies.

But even though you were clearly struggling, Effie could see how much you cared for those boys both actively and passively. Your body language seemed to change the second either of them entered a room, their presence’s easing any discomfort you may have been feeling nearly immediately; you smiled brighter, made more eye contact, and even contributed to conversations when one of them was around. Right now they were your confidence, your safe space. Effie hoped to get the chance to see it for herself one day, but she felt unbelievably lucky to get to see it in this way too. 

You always showed up with bottles of water when the boys were outside playing quidditch, somehow knowing Regulus was the kind to completely miss any cues his body gave him of thirst and predicting his needs. And you always brought sunblock out unprompted when Remus would fall asleep with a book over his face, ensuring he wouldn’t burn in the sun. 

She loved you so much.

It had been about two weeks since summer holidays started, and Hope and Lyall Lupin were going to be leaving their mini holiday at Potter Manor in a few days when Effie felt that you had made enough progress to broach the subject. 

“Y/N, dearie. Do you have a moment?” She asked as you and the boys walked in the back door after spending some time down at the lake.

Effie noticed a flicker of concern cross your features, though you readily agreed nonetheless. Remus smiled while Regulus promptly stood at attention.

“Hope’s going to be leaving in a few days, and I was thinking perhaps we could get a shopping trip in before she does.”

At this Hope looked over with a beaming smile. “Oh! I’d so love to go shopping! The shops are not nearly as posh in Cardiff.” 

You looked between the two women uncertainly but began nodding your head. “Erm, yes, sure. What...what are we shopping for?”

“Well, I thought we could go shopping for some clothes.”

You looked absolutely horrified at this. “I have clothes! I brought everything I had from school.”

Effie smiled encouragingly at you. “Yes, and what you had packed for school was appropriate for a Scottish autumn and winter, not for a summer in London.”

Sirius, never one to leave very well alone, piped up at this. “I want to go shopping! Can I come?”

Hope chuckled and ruffled the boy’s long hair. “I think it’d be better just us ladies, hm?”

Sirius pouted at that, but Regulus took pity on his brother. “You can come with me and Fleamont, Sirius.”

Sirius stood abruptly and planted a smacking kiss to the younger boy’s cheek. “You’re officially my favourite sibling.” He declared, earning him an indignant ‘oi!’ from James. 

“Get off of me, you sod.” Regulus grumbled, leaning further into Remus’ side. 

You looked at your two boys then; Remus was smiling at you with a look so full of love and pride it nearly rivaled Effie’s, and Regulus was smiling encouragingly and so sweetly, Effie was certain her blood sugar levels spiked just at the sight.

“That...that would be very nice. Thank you, ladies.” You agreed quietly. You nodded your head in decision, mostly to encourage yourself but Effie was thankful for the effort.

It was hard to imagine a time nearly eighteen years ago that Effie and Monty were heartbroken and struggling to finally have a child of their own. If only they’d know that seventeen years later, their lovely, lovely boy would bring home four more for them to love.

She was simultaneously sad for you, Regulus, and Sirius that you had to grow up in homes that didn’t love you the way you ought to have been, but she was so beyond grateful she got the honour to love you properly, now and for the rest of her life.

As long as Euphemia Potter lived, none of you would ever spend a moment being anything but loved.

[softguarnere]

Something He Can't Have

Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader

A/N: Not me falling back into one of my oldest hyperfixations after watching the movies this past week for Christmas 🥴 I honestly don't know what to say for myself, other than that I had fun writing this and it may have single-handedly saved me from my recent writing slump. Anyway, hope y'all like this, byeeee ✨💕 Warnings: none

Lucy lets out a groan that sounds so annoyed that it instantly draws Edmund back into the present moment. “Can I ple-ease say something now?” She asks Susan, who sits to her left at the banquet table.

Susan shushes her, but there’s no malice behind it. In fact, when she does allow a disheartened look to grace her face, she directs it toward Edmund. “No. I suppose we shouldn’t meddle.”

They’ve captured his interest. Which is something that seems nearly impossible, considering that he’s spent so much of this banquet staring at Peter and (Y/N) on the dance floor, watching his older brother enjoy dance after dance with her. And trying hard not to take it too personally when (Y/N) throws back her head to laugh every now and then at something that Peter has said. Usually, she only laughs like that at his jokes, and usually only when they’re alone together.

If Peter is making her come undone, allowing her to feel comfortable outside of the carefully crafted polite and diplomatic persona that (Y/N) has created for herself to use in Cair Paravel’s court, then she’s become relaxed with him. And who knows where that will lead?

“What are you talking about?” For good measure, Edmund tosses one last glance at the dance floor before turning his attention to his sisters.

“That!” Lucy exclaims, gesturing between Edmund and the crowd that swirl on the floor before them. “This!”

Edmund raises an eyebrow. “The ball?”

His younger sister groans, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, I give up!”

“Edmund,” Susan says sternly. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved, but this has gone on long enough.” For a split second, the gentle queen loses her composure, though only ever so slightly. “I mean, for God’s sake! It’s downright painful to watch!”

Still confused, Edmund isn’t sure what to say that will clarify whatever his sisters are talking about without further upsetting them. Instead, he settles for biting his lip, glancing between his sisters and the dancing, trying to work out their meaning himself.

Susan sighs, turning to Lucy. “He’s either a better actor than we give him credit for, or he’s downright daft.”

“Help me out here,” Edmund says.

“(Y/N)!” Lucy hisses, leaning across Susan so that she can scold her brother without causing too much unwanted attention. “You’ve been following her around all lovesick for ages now, but you haven’t done anything. And now you’re all jealous watching her dance with Peter.”

“Am not!”

Lucy swats his arm. “You’ve been staring at them all night. If you like her so much, then you better do something before you lose her forever!”

In other situations, Susan might chide the youngest Pevensie sibling, telling her that she’s being a bit overdramatic before offering Edmund some sort of good-natured advice. Edmund looks to her expectantly, only to find her brown eyes full of disappointment; she agrees with Lucy.

“We can all agree that you wear green better than any other, Ed,” she says. “But jealousy is not a shade that suits you.”

“Me? Jealous?! Of who?”

But his sisters only fix him with knowing looks. It makes Edmund want to wither away from existence on the spot. He spent most of their lives before Narnia being jealous of Peter. It’s been hard, but it’s something that he’s worked on since they were crowned. He really thought that he had overcome it. Now, though, his sisters’ words, coupled with the funny feeling in his stomach . . . He feels like a man, trapped, full of guilt, and caught in the middle of something very private. Which innocent people with nothing to hide do not feel in situations like these.

I fancy (Y/N), he realizes, admitting it to himself for the first time. It feels demeaning, somehow, to put a label on the feelings that he’s been harboring in secret for so long. And I’m jealous because she likes Peter more than me, says the next one, which makes him feel even worse.

A warm hand takes hold of his and squeezes. For all the annoyance that Lucy has felt toward him in these past few minutes, she offers him nothing but a kind look and encouraging smile. “You have to do something, Ed.”

“I – “ The words clog in his throat, causing him to swallow thickly, trying to find some of the air which has suddenly become very scarce. As you spin by on the dance floor, Edmund can see how you’re smiling at Peter like he hung the moon, and how his older brother beams at you like you created all the stars. Who wouldn’t want to bask in the sun’s warmth like that? And what sort of evil would dare separate two people who appear to be so . . . so in love. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Susan reassures him. “Trust me, Ed.”

Edmund, however, can’t take his eyes off of you. “I can’t ruin that.”

“You won’t,” Susan says. And if Edmund had his wits about him, he would recognize that she says it with the tone of someone who is very sure of herself because she has access to information that no one else has. (She, after all, is your best friend. But facts like that tend to fall by the wayside in moments of intense anxiety such as this.) “Ed, it’ll be fine. Trust me.”

To unstick the words in his throat, Edmund reaches for his goblet and takes a swig of the drink from inside. If he’s really going to do this, he’ll need all the courage he can get, no matter where it comes from.

As the song ends, he pushes back his chair and begins to make his way around the table. Lucy squeals with delight from behind him, and both his sisters offer nods of encouragement and thumbs up when he turns back to them, unsure.

The next thing that he knows, he’s on the dance floor, maneuvering his way through the crowd to reach you –

He catches sight of you just as you excuse yourself from the dance floor. You disappear into the crowd before he can call out to you, though he reaches out a hand, like he might be able to catch you from afar.

“Edmund!” A well-meaning slap on the back announces Peter’s presence. His older brother throws an arm around his shoulders. He radiates heat after all that dancing. “I wondered when you might join us on the dance floor.”

“I’m not. I’m just looking for (Y/N).”

Peter’s smile doesn’t falter, despite the fact that the next words out of his mouth are devastating news. “I believe that she’s retiring for the night.”

“Oh?”

“She said that she needed some air, that she might go to bed.”

As one of Narnia’s kings, Edmund is inclined to stay present for the majority of this banquet. You, being a courtier, are free to go as you please, seeing as there are no diplomatic negotiations, no fates of any nations, resting on your shoulders. If things were different, he would find a way to go after you.

And he’s actually looking for an excuse to do so when Peter says something that makes him stop.

“I wish she would have stayed,” the High King sighs. “We were having such a good time.”

Edmund nods, hands involuntarily clenching into fists at his sides. His voice feels hollow when he replies, “It looked like you were having a good time.”

“I was thinking – “ A laugh cuts Peter off as he shakes his head, looking half embarrassed, half giddy. “I was actually just about to ask her to be my – my girlfriend.” On the last word, something most unusual happens – the High King blushes. Actually blushes! Who would have known that such a thing was possible?

To say that it catches Edmund off guard would be an understatement. He’s never seen Peter so vulnerable . . . so happy. It makes Edmund’s mouth go dry. He and Peter have had their differences throughout their lives, but he can’t just ruin his older brother’s chance at happiness.

“Oh.” Is all that Edmund can think to say. He hesitates for a moment before asking, “What do you think she’ll say?”

Peter laughs, breathlessly, happily. “Well, I’m hoping that she’ll say yes, of course. In fact – “ He glances in the direction that you disappeared in. “ – I would go talk to her now, if not for my responsibilities.”

“Go,” Edmund finds himself saying. He can feel Peter’s look of surprise mirrored on his own face. But if Peter is going to do this, if this is all really happening, he’d honestly rather get it over with. “I’ll cover for you here.”

Now it’s Peter who hesitates. After a moment, his face breaks into a wide smile. He claps Edmund on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Ed.”

I wish I were better, the Just King thinks as he watches his older brother chase after the girl that they both love.  

From the banquet table, Lucy and Susan are giving him confused looks. Edmund only shrugs, then quietly rejoins them. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t want to explain what’s just happened. He recedes into himself, letting the party whirl by without him.

If only he were paying attention – then he would see the knowing look on Susan’s face.

. . .

It’s late when the banquet ends, and later still when Edmund slips into the library. He’s exhausted, but his mind is racing and won’t let him sleep. You and Peter had disappeared from the banquet hours ago. That’s plenty of time for his brother to have confessed to you and for you to have accepted. Dread fills him at the thought of the two of you happily announcing your new relationship the next morning at breakfast. He’ll have to face the two of you sometime, to muscle through his own pain and begin navigating a world where he has to accept that you’re in love with his older brother. But tonight, he can be amongst his books, which are a comfort.

He's so distracted that he doesn’t immediately notice you sitting by the fireplace, an open book on your lap, but a distracted look on your face as you watch the flames dance before you.

“Oh,” you both exclaim at the same time when you notice each other. The synchronicity makes you both laugh.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologizes.

“I didn’t mean to take your hiding spot,” you say in turn. You shut your book, but Edmund holds out a hand to stop you.

“You don’t have to leave on my account.”

You squint, studying him for a second, before nodding and settling back into the cushions behind you. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Carefully, Edmund takes a seat opposite you, gazing into the fire to gather his nerve. He didn’t expect to find you here. Didn’t expect to find you looking so . . . distracted and lonely as you stare into the fire, your book forgotten. He really shouldn’t pry. But you’re his friend, first and foremost, and he doesn’t want that to change. “Is everything alright?”

Delicate fingers pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh, collecting yourself before looking up at him through the firelight.

“Peter asked me to be his girlfriend,” you confess. Though the library is quiet, your voice is dull, hard to hear. You do not look as joyful as he imagined you would when delivering this news.

“Oh,” Edmund offers. He fumbles for words. You look upset, so he can’t congratulate you. But then again, he’s not sure if he should console you.

You stare at him for a moment, studying him just as intently as he’s studying you. “I said no,” you finally explain.

“Oh,” Edmund says again, for lack of anything better to say. “I’m . . . sorry?” Except that he’s really not. He feels quite relieved, if he’s being honest with himself.

Your brows furrow. He’s said the wrong thing, but he’s not sure where he went wrong.

“I said no,” you repeat. “Because I have feelings for someone else.”

Edmund’s heart, only on the mend for a split second, plummets. “Oh. I see.”

“No you don’t,” you scoff. “Edmund, you’re the one I have feelings for! Have you really not noticed by now?”

The words echo through the still library. They hang between you for a moment. A glorious, albeit confusing, moment where Edmund can do nothing but stare at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly. Narnia is a magical place, but there’s no way that you could have said the very thing that he would do anything to hear.

“You do?” His voice comes so quietly that when you don’t immediately reply, he worries that maybe he hasn’t spoken at all.

“Yes. And for quite some time, I might add.”

“But – “ Images of the night swirl in his mind. You had danced with Peter for ages, looking so happy. Everyone likes Peter. They always have. And much, much more than they like Edmund. To say that you have feelings for him . . . “Why?”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean . . . Everyone likes Peter. He always gets what he wants.”

Even in the dim glow of the firelight, he can see your gaze soften.

“Oh, Edmund.” You leave your seat, coming closer to him. He rises, meeting you halfway, so that the two of you are standing together in front of the fire. Gently, you take his hand, intwining your fingers. Your hand is warm in his. You squeeze, and on instinct, he squeezes back. “That’s not true.”

“What’s not?”

“People like you, too. I like you.” Your grip tightens on his hand. “And Peter doesn’t always get what he wants. I know something he can’t have.”

“What’s that?”

A smile tugs at your lips when you gaze up at him and say, “He can’t have this.”

[deans-queen]

𝐂𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader meets Dean at Roadhouse and challenges him to a game of pool, with an interesting bet.

Warnings: sexual themes/tension (it gets a bit smutty but thats no surprise from me at this point 😜) , language, alcohol use.

Pre AN: this fills the Pool/Billiards square for my @jacklesversebingo card!

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

It’s Saturday night at the Roadhouse. The air is buzzing with chatter, the clinking of glasses, music playing from the jukebox, and the occasional crack of pool balls. I used to play a lot when I was a kid and I loved it, but it's been forever since I last picked up a cue. 

I walk toward the bar and take a seat on the wooden stool. Ellen – the owner of the place – turns around and greets me with a smile. 

“Hey sweetie, what will it be?” she asks me as she grabs a glass. 

“Oh, hey Ellen! Just the usual – whisky on the rocks.”

“You got it,” she says with a wink. 

As Ellen gets my drink, I glance around the bar. People fill the booths and tables, chatting with each other. A few are out on the dance floor, swaying to the music, while others are casually playing pool. My eyes drift to one of the pool tables, and that's when I notice him. Tall, muscular but not overly so, with brown hair, and wearing a worn brown leather jacket. He’s talking to someone, a much taller guy with longer hair. I can’t help but wonder who they are  – especially the one in the leather jacket. 

Ellen serves me my drink, and I can't help but ask, “Hey Ellen, who are they?” I nod towards them, while casually taking a sip. 

She looks up and sees who I am talking about. 

“Oh, those two?” She asks, while nodding towards them. “They’re family friends of mine, Sam and Dean Winchester.

“And what’s up with them?” I ask casually. 

Ellen hands me my drink, and as I take a sip, the smooth burn of the whisky goes down my throat. I can’t help but let my gaze wander back to the two men by the pool table, especially the one in the leather jacket. There’s something about him — that makes me curious.

“They’re brothers,” Ellen says, bringing my attention back to her. “Been through a lot, those two.” She wipes down the bar as she continues, “Sam - the tall one — he’s the youngest. Smart as a whip,  he’s a big softy. And Dean — the one wearing the leather jacket, he’s the oldest. Bit rough around the edges but good hearted. They’re hunters, ya know. They fight things most people don’t believe exist. 

Hunters. Now that’s something I didn’t expect to hear. 

“Like ghosts and monsters and all that?” I ask curiously. 

Ellen nods, pouring herself a drink. “Exactly, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Those two are the best hunters around.” 

My eyes drift back to Dean. He leans over the pool table, lining up his shot with precision. I can’t help but admire the way he focuses. As if he can sense my gaze, his eyes — sharp, green, and full of intensity — flicker up to meet mine for a split second. My breath hitches, it’s like he can see right through me. He leans in closer to the table and it’s hard to focus on anything else but the way his lips quirk up into a cocky ass smirk right before he does the break. 

As the balls scatter across the table I bite my lip, unable to tear my gaze away from him. His eyes are still on mine, amusement twinkling as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on me. 

Ellen’s voice snaps me out of my intense thoughts. “You okay?” 

“Yeah…” I reply, a little too quietly averting my gaze. “I’m fine.” 

But I know deep down I’m not. My mind’s racing with thoughts I shouldn’t be having about a guy I just met — or rather haven’t met yet. 

“Enjoying the view sweetheart?” Dean's voice was blunt with a teasing edge to it as he straightened himself up, clearly pleased with himself. 

I don’t know if it’s the whisky or the sexual tension between us, but I’m feeling very bold tonight. The boldness surges through me, and before I can second guess myself, I find my feet carrying me toward the pool table. Sam is focused on his next shot, but Dean’s eyes are locked on me the entire time, his lips curled into that cocky smirk that’s been driving me wild since the moment our eyes met.

“Well, sweetheart, you gonna stand there staring, or you here to play?” Dean’s voice is low, teasing, and I can feel the challenge in it.

I raise an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Maybe I am here to play,” I reply, letting a bit of sass slip into my tone.

Dean chuckles, leaning back against the edge of the pool table, his eyes scanning me up and down, clearly intrigued. “You any good?”

“I used to be,” I admit with a shrug. “Wanna find out?”

Sam glances between us, shaking his head with a grin before stepping away from the table. “I’ll leave you two to it. Dean can use a good challenge.”

“Good luck, man,” he adds with a knowing smirk before heading toward the bar, leaving just me and Dean at the table.

Dean watches me for a moment before stepping around the table to grab a cue. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s make this interesting. How about a little wager?”

I raise an eyebrow, curious. “What kind of wager?”

Dean’s eyes darken with mischief as he hands me a cue. He steps in close, his body heat radiating off him as he leans in, his lips dangerously close to my ear. “Loser has to kiss the winner.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, my heart racing in response. I swallow, trying to maintain my composure, but the heat between us is undeniable. I glance up at him, meeting his intense green eyes.

“Deal,” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “But don’t be upset when you lose.”

Dean chuckles, pulling back slightly, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve got no idea what you’re in for.”

We set up the game, the tension between us thickening with every glance, every small touch as we move around the table. I take the first shot, breaking the balls with a satisfying crack. Dean watches me closely, his gaze burning into me, but I focus on the game, determined not to let him get in my head.

The game goes on, each shot bringing us closer, both of us playing to win, but there’s something else simmering beneath the surface, a fire that’s growing with every passing moment. I line up my final shot, feeling Dean’s eyes on me the whole time. The cue ball hits the corner pocket, sinking the last ball perfectly.

Dean’s smirk falters for the first time, and I can’t help the triumphant grin that spreads across my face.

“Well, would you look at that,” I say, setting the cue down and stepping toward him. “I won.”

Dean straightens up, his eyes narrowing slightly, though there’s amusement dancing in them. He takes a step closer, closing the space between us, his body heat wrapping around me like a blanket.

“Looks like I owe you something, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “But I don’t mind losing to you.”

Before I can respond, his hand gently grips my chin, tilting my face up toward his. His lips crash into mine, firm and demanding, stealing my breath away. The kiss is intense, and I melt into it, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath the leather jacket. His other hand snakes around my waist, pulling me closer, until there’s no space left between us.

Dean deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes me. His grip tightens slightly, possessive, and I’m drowning in the feel of him, the taste of him. It’s like he’s claiming me, and I’m more than willing to be claimed.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads resting against each other. Dean’s eyes are dark with lust, his smirk back in full force.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice husky. “You kiss even better than I imagined.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me, feeling a little lightheaded from the intensity of the moment. “Careful, Dean. I might make you lose more often.”

Dean leans in again, his lips brushing against mine as he murmurs, “I think I’d like that.”

Dean’s lips find mine again, slower this time, more deliberate, savoring the taste of me like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. His hands roam over my body, his grip firm yet tender, pulling me even closer. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my hands as I run them over his chest, his muscles tense beneath the fabric of his shirt. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in it, my body pressing into his, heat building between us until I can barely think straight.

When he finally pulls back, his breath is warm against my lips, and there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. “How about we take this somewhere more private?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

I bite my lip, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Yeah… I think that’s a good idea,” I manage, my voice breathless from the intensity of the kiss.

He grabs my hand, and without another word, we head outside. The cool night air hits me, but it does nothing to cool the fire raging inside me. My heart races as he leads me to the his beautiful car — a 1967 Chevy Impala; parked under the dim light of a streetlamp. There’s something thrilling about it— something intimate, yet wild. He opens the back door for me, and I slide in, my body humming with anticipation. Dean follows quickly, closing the door behind him, sealing us inside.

The moment we’re alone, the tension between us snaps like a rubber band stretched too tight. His hands are on me, his lips crashing into mine with a raw hunger that sends sparks through my entire body. I gasp against his mouth, my fingers tugging at his leather jacket, desperate to feel him, to touch the warm skin underneath.

"God, you drive me crazy," he breathes, his voice rough as his hands slide up my shirt, lifting it over my head. He pauses, his eyes dark with desire as they roam over me, taking me in. His gaze is so intense that it makes me shiver.

"Not so bad yourself," I reply, a teasing edge in my voice, though I can barely keep it steady. The way he looks at me makes it hard to think straight.

Dean smirks, leaning in close, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "I bet I can make you say more than that."

I open my mouth to respond, but his hands are already on my waist, pulling me down onto his lap, and any coherent thought slips away. I can feel every inch of him, hard and ready beneath me, and it makes my breath hitch. His lips press against my collarbone, his teeth grazing the skin just enough to make me moan softly.

"You think you’re in charge, Winchester?" I manage to tease, even as my body melts into his touch.

Dean’s low chuckle vibrates against my skin. "Sweetheart, I think we both know who's in control here."

His hands move to my jeans, unbuttoning them with practiced ease, and I arch into him as he pulls them down. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and I can’t help but bite my lip as his fingers skim over the sensitive skin of my thighs.

"You're killing me, Dean," I whisper, my voice shaky with need.

His eyes flash with something dark, something primal, as he leans in to kiss me again, his hands gripping my hips with a possessive edge. "Trust me, sweetheart. This is just the beginning."

I groan softly as he pulls me down onto him, the sensation overwhelming as he fills me completely. The feeling of him inside me is perfect, and I can't help but rock my hips against him, needing more, wanting more. His hands grip my waist tighter, guiding me as I move, the rhythm between us building quickly.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Dean growls, his voice low and ragged. He thrusts up into me, harder, deeper, and I gasp, gripping his shoulders to steady myself as the pleasure builds with every movement. The car rocks slightly with the intensity of it, the small space only amplifying the heat between us.

I bite my lip, my nails digging into his skin as I ride him, my body moving instinctively, driven by pure need. "Dean… I–" My voice breaks as a moan escapes me, my head tipping back as he thrusts harder.

"Come on, sweetheart," Dean murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "Let go. I wanna hear you scream my name."

His dirty talk, the rough edge to his voice, sends me over the edge. My body tightens around him as the orgasm crashes through me, and I cry out, my hands clutching him tightly as I lose myself in the overwhelming pleasure. Dean follows me moments later, groaning my name as he spills into me, his hands gripping my hips like I’m the only thing holding him to this earth.

For a moment, we’re both breathing hard, our bodies tangled together, the tension between us finally spent. I collapse against him, resting my forehead against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my skin. His fingers trail up and down my back in slow, soothing strokes, grounding me after the whirlwind of passion.

After a long moment, Dean tilts my chin up, his green eyes softer now but still intense as they lock onto mine. There’s something different in his gaze, something deeper, as if he’s searching for the right words. His thumb brushes against my lip, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen.

“I gotta ask you something, sweetheart,” he says quietly, his voice rough but sincere.

I look up at him, my heart pounding for a different reason now. “What is it?” I ask, though there’s a part of me that already knows this is something big.

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching mine, and then he finally speaks, his voice low and almost vulnerable. “Stay with me. This… us… it feels right. I don’t want this to be just one night.”

His words hit me like a wave, warm and unexpected. For a second, I can’t find the right response, overwhelmed by the raw honesty in his voice. But then a smile tugs at my lips, and I lean in to kiss him, slow and sweet, pouring everything I feel into that kiss.

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean,” I whisper against his lips when we finally pull apart. “I’m all in.”

Dean smiles, a rare, genuine smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against mine. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go.”

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

Hope you enjoyed this story! I’m sorry if the smut is REAL but I can’t help it — but you guys know me by now I’m gonna put smut in my stories! anyways, this one was really fun to do! And the gif — PERFECT TOUCH 🥵🥵🔥

Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

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[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

Part II

➺Part I

It's been two days since your arrival at Al-Razeh. Maha, your PA, poured tea into your cup and hers, and you both sat down, enjoying the evening and relaxing on your estate's lawn.

"The weather is nice today, Ma'am," Maha said, taking in the cool breeze.

"Indeed," you replied, savoring the calm. After a moment, you turned to her. "By the way, you’ve lived here all your life, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered, glancing at you curiously.

"So... any folklore tied to this village? Since, you know, villages are known to be famous for such things." You smiled, lighting the mood with a bit of humor. “Often having their own stories.”

Maha chuckled softly at your inquiry and drew her chair a bit closer to yours. “Well, not exactly folklore, but there is this family. Personally, neither my family nor I are closely acquainted with them, but…” She took a sip of her tea, her words now capturing all your attention.

"They are the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family, they own general stores here, two of them. He has three sons. The oldest two are married and have children, but their youngest… he’s always been something of an enigma around here.”

Your curiosity piqued, you snorted softly. “An enigma?”

“Yes, ma’am, an enigma,” Maha’s voice took on a tone of anxious seriousness. “He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed. The situation was dire, his agonizing screams were reportedly heard throughout the quiet streets. This was happening around the time of his second brother’s wedding. Guests at the house, including those from the neighboring families, overheard the commotion. The disturbances along with conflicts within the family caused tensions to rise, and at one point, it nearly led to the engagement being called off. Fortunately, the wedding went ahead, but Habib was absent, cited as being ill by his family.”

You listened with growing intrigue, though a pang of sympathy tugged at your heart. Such occurrences were tragically real, and often, people not only suffered but sometimes perished.

"Let me guess," you said, shifting your gaze to Maha, "you mentioned he was--no, is--beautiful?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Then black magic? Possibly from relatives?" You inquired, noting the surprised look in Maha’s eyes.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "I mean, that's what most of the people think. The cleric himself when consulted by some of the village elders, particularly Kadir’s friends, didn't reveal anything except that it was indeed something paranormal."

"That's often the case with such situations," you remarked. "Clerics typically avoid naming names if it's a matter of black magic. If you discover the culprit on your own, that's one thing, but directly asking the clerics usually only gets you vague responses. Or maybe the family didn't want the details out."

Black magic presented a confusing challenge when it came to legal matters. The laws were clear, if someone was caught practicing black magic, they faced severe penalties. Yet, the shadowy nature of these practices often meant that many perpetrators remained hidden. Clerics, bound by their own reasons, often withheld crucial information about those involved. In villages like Al-Razeh, such issues could be predictably common. To you, black magic was not merely a mystical concern but a serious crime. The victims deserved justice, and those who perpetuated such malevolence needed to be held accountable.

“Ma’am, how do you know so much about these things?” Maha’s childlike curiosity brought a smile to your face.

“Nothing special,” you replied, “just a hobby. So, how is the boy now?”

"Oh! I missed a part," Maha said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "People, like you mentioned, initially suspected the relatives because that's common in cases of black magic. But his brothers were also under suspicion. They always seemed to harbor resentment towards Habib. After all, he’s the most beautiful of them, so it wouldn't be surprising if they were involved. Men too get jealous over these matters."

With a pitiful sigh, you set your cup on the table and leaned back. "It breaks one’s heart to hear such stories--family turning against family. This... magic stuff is no joke. Deep-rooted jealousy can lead to such tragic outcomes, tearing apart lives and families."

"Indeed," Maha agreed solemnly. "But it could just have been a normal possession and not caused by magic cuz like I said, he is said to be very beautiful. He's reportedly doing better now, but he hasn’t left the house since then. It might be the cleric’s advice, or perhaps it's his parents' protectiveness or... his brothers' doing. Some people speculate that he might have died."

“What? Died? But didn’t the cleric solve his problem?” you asked, puzzled.

“Yes, he did. It’s just a rumor--he can’t be dead. You can't hide something like that for so long. People who are the family's relatives and friends, have seen him inside the house. So, he’s definitely there.” Maha chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of such rumors.

"What about the cleric? He still here?"

"Oh no, he was from some other place. Kadir called him here for his son's treatment." You hummed and took in the information. Then a subtle smirk graced your lips.

“It could have been a lover, too,” you suggested casually.

“What?”

You petted Milo, your cat, who had jumped onto your lap. “It might have been a lover who cursed him, someone who wanted him. One of the leading cause for black magic."

“He was 16.”

You laughed, “So? She could have been 16 too. Who knows? Anyway, did you put the reports in my study?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, I’ll go freshen up.” You stood up, leaving Maha to enjoy her tea on the lawn. Your thoughts shifted away from the village story, focusing instead on the duties that lay ahead.

═════ ◈ ═════

Odai stepped into the small shop, removing his glasses as his gaze briefly settled on the figure behind the counter. What caught his attention were the eyes--unmistakably unique, as if they held a quiet depth. But the rest of the man’s face was hidden beneath a cloth, adding an air of mystery.

"Um, two packs of cigarettes." Odai glanced back at the car parked outside across the road. Through the tinted windows, he could see his reflection.

"I can't."

Odai’s head snapped back in surprise. Is he hearing things?

"Two packs of cigarettes, brother," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

But the man behind the counter shook his head again, those evasive eyes refusing to reveal more. What was going on?

"What?--what do you mean? It’s just a pack of cigarettes. Why are you saying no?"

"I-I can't sell them... I don't want to."

"Why? That’s your job! Why even own a shop then? Is this how you treat your customers?" Odai's frustration grew.

"No... I just don’t sell cigarettes... They’re harmful."

Was this man serious? Was he actually joking?

"Look, boy. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I need them, so I’m gonna ask one last time before I leave. Hand over the cigarettes."

But all he got in return was another silent shake of the head. That was it.

"Fine, keep running your business like this bud and you’re bound for success," Odai muttered, "And maybe don’t stock cigarettes in your shop if you’re not planning to sell them!"

He stormed back to the car, slamming the driver’s door shut accidentally. The noise made you glance up from your file.

"What’s wrong? Did you get them?" you asked, noticing his disgruntled expression.

"I’m so-rry, ma’am… um… the boy in the shop… he refused to sell. God, I can’t believe it--like, what even was that? But there's another store nearby so , we will go there." Odai stammered, frustration clear in his voice. Before he could shift into gear, you stopped him with a curious question.

"Wait, he refused to sell cigarettes?"

"Yes." Odai nodded, still baffled.

"That’s interesting. And did he say why?"

"They’re harmful." Odai’s ears flushed as he heard you chuckle softly. He wasn’t sure if you were annoyed or just amused by the whole thing.

"Now this is intriguing. Someone refusing to run their business properly... now that’s a case worth looking into." Still chuckling, you slipped out of the car before Odai could respond, but he quickly followed, his curiosity piqued.

Like him, you took in the scene before heading to the small counter tucked in the corner. There, the figure sat quietly, standing the moment you approached, his demeanor almost shy under your gaze.

"You’re the one who refuses to sell cigarettes because they’re harmful?" you asked, your voice curious yet firm.

He nodded. His eyes, though not meeting yours directly, seemed to speak in a language of their own--soft but full of meaning.

"Do you know who I am?" You wondered if the uniform might catch his attention.

A brief silence followed before his voice, barely above a whisper, reached you. "No.."

"I am the new DC."

"T-he DC?"

"That's right."

"I still… won’t sell." Odai huffed behind you, clearly irritated, but you hardly noticed. Your eyes softened, lighting up with quiet amusement at the childlike defiance. "Why? This is not how you run a shop, boy."

"I don’t want you....our… new DC to be harmed. I won’t let a pack… kill an honest officer."

For a moment, time seemed to still. Never in your life did you imagine hearing something so simple, yet so profound. His words, spoken with such gentleness, struck something deep inside you. Just who was this man? You could sense Odai’s stunned silence behind you, just as surprised by the unexpected warmth in those gentle words.

After clearing your throat, you finally asked, "What’s your name?"

"H-Habib, miss."

This… this is Habib? The Habib that Maha had told you about?

"They’re the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family. They own general stores around here, two of them."

And here you were, standing in one of them. But how was he… here?

From behind a curtain serving as a door to an adjoined room, a man in his late fifties appeared, his presence steady and familiar. He moved to stand beside Habib.

'That must be Kadir, his father.'

"Oh! I’m sorry, I was just praying in the other room. How may I help you?" Kadir asked politely, his tone warm. Meanwhile, Habib stood quietly to the side, his gaze fixed downward, trying to shrink into the background, as if seeking shelter behind his father’s presence.

"Well, our DC wanted some cigarettes, and this boy refused to sell them," Odai interjected with a trace of frustration in his voice.

"Oh--I’m so sorry. Ma’am, please, forgive him. He’s new to this… and, well, he refuses to sell them to anyone," Kadir said with a chuckle that barely masked his embarrassment, as he reached for the cigarettes.

"No, it’s alright. Really, I don’t want them. And… you’ve raised a kind soul, sir," you said, your gaze briefly shifting to Habib, who still stood quietly, his presence almost ethereal. Maha was right. If those eyes alone held such depth and softness, then his face… You couldn’t help but feel a quiet curiosity bloom within you, wondering what beauty lay beneath the mask. Yet, it wasn’t a thought born of desire--no it was reverent. There was a satisfaction in knowing that Habib remained untouched by the eyes of envy or malice.

"I--thank you, ma’am. But, please, if you still want--"

"It’s fine." You smiled, your voice gentle. "I’ll just take those chips instead. Thank you."

Before leaving, your eyes found Habib’s one last time. For a brief second, he looked back, those soulful eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that touched something deep inside you. And then, just like that, the moment passed. Something stirred in your chest as you made your way back to the car.

His demeanor, though shy and reserved, had an innate warmth that contrasted starkly with the pain you suspected he might have endured. Habib's eyes, so expressive despite their attempt to hide behind the mask of modesty, spoke volumes. How could anyone ever think to harm such a gentle, innocent soul? His kindness made him so pure, yet so brave in his quiet way. Your heart ached at the thought of someone cruel, someone arrogant, standing where you were now. If they had received the same refusal, what might they have done to him and his father?

Part III

(AN: I cried writing this due to the unspoken romance which is more to come and I just wanna give the biggest hug to Habib so bad 😭)

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

SET ME FREE x MIN YOONGI

[MAFIA AU]

PART ONE

Red Chopsticks

Side Characters: Kim Namjoon/police officer detective, Jeon Jungkook/police officer detective, Jung Hoseok/mafia member and Yoongis right hand.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, death, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, porn (a lot of it), drugs, cuss words.

Song: Gods and Monsters by Lana del Rey.

Next ->

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I knew that working as an intern at the police station wasn’t going to be easy. As a young woman i knew that very well. But life wasn’t ever exactly easy for me, when i wasn’t fighting to survive i was planing how to survive tomorrow.

At least i was never bored.

“Another fight against the mafia Min left three police officers in the hospital in critical condition and five dead, the police said that they are taking care of the case right now and so far they can’t disclose any information about the investigation but, everything indicates that the mafia leader Agust d was behind it. We’ll be back after the break…”.

I took a sip of my coffee as i watched the news on the tv in wall of the coffee shop. This Agust d was one of the most wanted criminals in the world, they say he has deals with the Italian and the Japanese mafia. No one knew how he looked like, the only way to know he was behind a crime was looking at the crime scene. He had a way of doing in the most cleanest way. Bodies dropped dead in a blink of an eye and no one would know.

I always wanted to be a police detective just like my father, completely influenced by him but when he passed away i made the promise to take his place and do just as much good to the world as he did. To continue his legacy. Since I was the oldest I had to take care of the house and my younger brother. Who was still in high school.

After completing my training i was assigned to work as an intern at the police station. I’ve been working for almost four months now, it hasn’t been easy since.

Many male seniors looked down on me and tooked me for weak. But that didn’t stop me. It never did in the academy and It won’t here.

I’m gonna do my job and I’ll be the best at it.

Days are work were usually the same, sitting on my desk making documents and delivering documents with criminal information on crime scenes, criminals and people who passed.

I had to make sure every information was in order and ready to be documented and archived in the system.

At lunch break I would seat in the table with the few detectives that saw me as one of them, Namjoon was working on the Agust d case together with Jungkook and his other man, he would always take care of me when he could. As fathers used to know each other and for that reason he’s always been like a big brother for me in the station.

- how’s been work so far y/n? - he asked, a smile showing his dimples making him look even more attractive.

- same old same old - i said, sitting in front of him on the table. - how is the investigation of the Min mafia?

- don’t even tell me about it. The damn Agust d is like a ghost. - he held his chopsticks tighter, a deep look in his eyes showing me how much this case has been burning him, no one wanted to catch that man more than him - But just you wait…. I’m gonna catch him and make him pay for his crimes.

- I’m sure you will - i send him an assuring smile - no one can do that but you.

He replied my smile send a small one back to me, the air around seemed to have lightened up since.

- make sure you document our relatories right y/n - Jungkook the youngest detective said to me in a teasing way. Turning the attention to me.

- you do your job and i do mine - i said - I’ll be better then you once i become a detective.

- she’s coming for you man! - Namjoon teased, getting playful too.

- I’m not scared of girls - Jungkook stated, looking my way.

- well then I’ll make you scared - I said daring. We all just laughed after that.

Lunch time was always pleasant with them, as much as they can’t seem to stop teasing me for being the youngest, it was nice being with them.

After lunch i went back to work finding a new pile of documents with a small yellow note saying to transfer them all to the system. One of the other female workers who was a senior Looked at my way saying the boss requested me to do the documents and send it to him.

I sighed knowing it would take more then hours to complete the work, specially with how slow the system has been lately.

…

Finishing the last paper o looked outside the window at the office. It was night already, half past eleven.

I yawn getting up from the chair, time to clock out. As I walk down the stairs to the front doors of the station, Namjoon comes from the corridor of the left. I smiled at him and he does a little jog to come to me, accompany me as we both exit the building.

I take a deep breath once outside, finally time to go home.

- you need a ride home? - Namjoon offers.

- oh no, thank you though - i declined - I have my own ride home.

- don’t tell me you’re still driving that thing? - he asked incredulously of my ride home.

- hey! Don’t talk like that about my baby - i said. Hitting his arm.

- i swear that motorcycle is a monster… - he said playful.

- no it’s not… - I’m interrupted by my cell phone ringing, my brothers name shining on it. - sorry i gotta go, bye Joonie!

I quickly said by to him as i run to the parking lot, once my motorcycle was in my sight I took the call.

- hey bro what do you-

I couldn’t finished. My voice got stuck in my throat as i heard him sobbing, silent cries.

- they are coming to get me… I’m so sorry big sis…- he cried, I could hear laughs and other voices in the back.

My mind was doing loops. Different scenarios about what he might have gotten himself into that could have gotten him in that situation, i felt the rush in my body and completely lost control of myself. The only family I had was in danger and i just couldn’t breath at the thought of it. How could I not do anything?

Knowing i was just an intern at the police station but i would never turn my back to someone in need. Never.

I’m so stupid.

I moved out of instinct. Getting in the motorcycle. Turning on the GPS of his cellphone so i could track his location, finding out my brother l location was my focus now. Turning the key the loud roar of the motor was flowed through my ears. I checked the GPS once more finding out he was at the wets part of downtown.

My eyes looking incredulously at his location, just what in the world was he doing at one of the most dangerous parts of downtown?

Once I find him I’m going to smash some sense in his head, with my fry pan. Hard.

Driving this late wasn’t so bad, everyone was sleeping and those who weren’t were coming back from work or just going to parties, getting dunk or eating out. It was easier to get there faster, as i drove towards my brothers destination the streets began to slowly turn darker, and i don’t mean light sense.

I was struck by how things went down there. I never came a single kilometer close to this part of the city. Now I know why.

People fighting in the middle of the streets, some drunk men being dragged out of a pub, woman bearly clothed walking around smoking.

I stooped my motorbike to look at the GPS once again, he was close now one street ahead in the next alley. I drove there slower till I was close enough to go there on foot and made my way to the alley.

I couldn’t find words to describe this place, it smelled so bad my head started to hurt. Cigarettes and cheap alcohol, piss in the corners and some people laying on the floor. I didn’t know if they were alive but, i didn’t know if going there to check would be a good thing to do.

I had my own share of trouble to solve now. Once in the alley i felt paralyzed, honestly I didn’t know what to expect from this. I didn’t know what to do. I just knew my brother was i danger and i had to get to him quickly.

Once there i stood in the alley, my heart was weighing on my chest, as i saw three men cornering my brother. Two of them wearing big jackets and while one wore a baseball hat the other a bucket hat he was the one who held my brother against the wall while the other one threw a punch against him. Those disgusting pieces of trash.

- ya!

Anger boiled inside me. Now finally getting their attention. The one who threw the punch turning towards me. He was bald and had a dragon tattoo on his face that follow the side of his head to his left eye.

- there's nothing to see here princess - he said - get out or... we might not let you go.

- no, you leave - i stood my ground - i already called the coops, leave my brother.

They all just laugh, i didn't move an inch through if i wanted to win this I would have to fight. I knew I would.

- you all heard that? She called the cops - he said in a mocking way to the other guys and they all laughed - you must not be from here little girl.... the coops don't come here any more.

- yeah... - the other one who held my brother said, he took his cap off siding with the tattoo guy - Agust D made sure of that.

They looked at each other and chuckled.

- we gotta thank him for that... - the back one said walking towards me - thanks to him we can do whatever we want to little girls like you....

I felt like throwing up.

It wasn’t long before two arms held me from behind, a breath of cigarettes hitting my face. A forth men? I tried to break free from it but the man’s hold was strong.

Bald guy walking towards us a vile smile on his lips as he did so, my mind was completely blank and all i could hear was my heart beating faster in my chest and their laughs as if it was coming from far away.

My eyes desperately searching for my brother finding him laying on the floor, fear boiling on my body. I could only watch.

How useless i was.

- we are gonna have so much fun… - he said grabbing my face and smiling sickly. I was so disgusted and angry at the same time.

Still i spit on his face. For a second it seemed like he didn’t believe it, then he angrily cleaned his face with his hand.

- you bitch! - he was one second from slapping me in the face.

If I’m in hell, might as well shower in flames. I closed my eyes waiting for the blow, but it never came.

- what’s is all this garbage?….

A different voice said this time, before anything could happened, from behind the man in the other end of the alley a man stood there.

I couldn’t make his face as he was too far, he proceeded to light a cigarette and take a blow. Smoke flying above his face as he lets it all out. He was wearing simple clothes, ripped jeans a white shirt and flower shirt over it. Long black hair slick back. He walked slowly towards the commotion, as if this was nothing but exactly what he stated: garbage.

- we don’t need more people here friend… - the man in front of me said, walking towards the new stranger - just keep minding your own business.

- well you see… friend - he said closer now, eyes falling over mine and i noticed the scar on his face. It made him look mad. - i don’t like men hurting woman…

- I don’t give a shit about what you don’t like get the fu- before the man can say even one more word, scar men throws a punch on him, cigarette still between his lips.

He falls on the ground nose bleeding and groaning in pain, scar men takes a second blow lof the cigarette letting the smoke fall out of his lips slowly in the air watching the men on the ground, a smirk on his face.

- I also don’t like poor dirty vocabulary… - he said, throwing the rest of the cigarette on the man.

The two other guys went stray to the scar men, one of them throwing a punch on him but he quickly dogged grabbing the guys arm bringing towards him he punched his ribs then kicked him on the same spot, while this were happening the other one who just watched grabbed a piece of wood and went straight to the scar face men.

It happened so fast, the guy didn’t stood a chance as scar face held the piece of wood and his other hand before he could do anything, a sick laugh coming from scar face lips. He looked as if he was having the most fun but, more then anything like this was nothing to him.

I knew he went hard when i heard the sound of cracking, but it wasn’t from the wood. The painful groan that left the guy mouth was enough to tell me, scar men broke his arm then threw the guy on the floor two with another kick. He stood there pushed his hair back and looked at me, a smirk still on his face.

The forth men that was holding me finally let me go, turning back i only saw him walking fast as if he had nothing to do with this signaling to the other men to get out of there, one after the other they got up from the floor leaving quickly. I don’t know who that men with the scar is but although he helped me and my brother, he doesn’t seem like one to mess with.

As the alley was clear i ran to my brother, checking to see if he was okay. He hugged me as soon as i kneeled beside him.

- why did you come? - he cried on my shoulder - they could’ve hurt you…

- and they hurt you - I told him - how could i not come? Should I have just left your!? You punk.

I helped him up holding him by the waist, I honestly thought the scar men wouldn’t be here anymore. I was surprise to see he was still there looking at me and my brother. Both hands on the pockets of his jeans.

Noticing my look of surprise at him he only side smiled, I couldn’t read his expression.

- it’s still dangerous to be alone at this time… - he said walking to the end of the alley where he came from and towards the street - let’s eat something till things cool down in downtown.

I didn’t question. I didn’t know how things worked at downtown and if he’s from here he knows more then I do. Seeing how my brother was still in pain I thought that would be a good idea, at least until he gets better to go and as the scar men said till thing cold down.

So i follow the him. We walked without saying anything else, the streets of downtown seemed to really be quieting down now . He stopped in front what looked like a noddle restaurant, it looked old with rustic furniture and decor.

He walked around as if he new the place and quickly sat down in one of the tables on the back, i fallowed him sitting in front of him after helping my brother to sit beside me.

And old lady came to our table, she seemed to know scar face as she smiled at him.

- the usual mister Yoongi? - she asked him, he nodded.

- the same for them - he then replied, she looked at me once then my brother the expression on her face showing clearly. Pity.

She quickly went back to prepare the food, i looked at the men in front of me. The scar on his face gave him a fearful look, he had sharp eyes too and moved with so much confidence and control of himself. Nothing around his surrounding seemed to fazed him, he looked indifferent to everything.

He’s from downtown. The part of the city were crime was all over it, the mafia Min had control over it more then the military soldiers. No one could take this area down. They had so much power over it no one from the outside could even imagine what was truly happening here, everyone feared getting even the stlighly close to here.

I tried not to think about it so much as time passed, the food was put in front of us by the old lady. The scar face who’s name the old lady said before was Yoongi took his chopsticks blowing the noddles before eating.

His knuckles had some blood on them, but he just eat as if it wasn’t nothing to him. Are all the people in downtown like this? Born bad? Born with blood in their hands.

Now here i’m right in the middle of it. With this men in front of me who looked like he was some kind of mafia criminal.

- are you in the mafia? - I only realized I said my thoughts out loud when he looked at me.

He stoped mid eating, mouth slightly opened as he hold his chopstick. His eyes locked on mine and he stared at me, it felt cold the more i held eye contact with him. I couldn't decipher what was going on his mind, it made me even more intrigued and for a second it felt like time had stoped, everyone and every thing around us simply didn't exist.

How did I get here? Who was this men?

I couldn't breath. My eyes were glued on his, how could someone like him have this kind of effect on people? I felt a shiver run down my spine as he licked his lips smirking if that was somebody else I’m sure it wouldn’t look as attractive as he made it look and before he took a bite of his food he simply said without breaking eye contact with me.

- no.

Nothing else was said after that.

We all just eat our food. The silence was filled with only dish sounds and food being cooked, some old people talking about sports and how some areas were too dangerous.

I kept checking on my brother to see if was fine, he only eat his food quietly blood dried already on his bottom lip, a bruise on his right eye turning red. I hated the fact i couldn’t protect him. Even after becoming a police officer I couldn’t do anything to protect my only family.

Mat the sudden movement in front of me my eyes turning to Yoongi as he got up from his seat, he grabbed the pair of red chopsticks before looking at me one last time.

- i have something to deal with now - he said - you know that way out, don’t worry about the food… is on me.

Was all he said before turning his back and walking towards the back of the restaurant with the red chopsticks.

What a night.

Taglist: @missmin @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe @catlove83 @taegicity @ginger-coffee-addict @rosquilleta @tarahardcore @liveyun @manuosorio @thvlover7 @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky

Notes: First part is out YES. Sorry for any grammatical mistakes I didn’t edit yet! 🥺💖🤭

[jenctrl]

yubaba's contract*ೃ༄

"the black cat runs into someone who she claims she doesn't remember or know, but it might just be a deep grudge. the "stranger" warns her to not forget her own name if she wants to find home and unfortunately for the asocial cat it doesn't end there."

warning; from the blackcat!Y/n series, the parts don't need to be read in order! however this one will have a continuation [ 1 ] , [ 2 ]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“All of these are terrible Yunjin,” the feline commented, loudly enough for the girl on the stairs to hear. Her nose scrunched up and she tilted her head to look better at the phone screen while leaning her weight against Yunjin’s back; her chin on the taller girl’s shoulder. 

“What?” The canine worriedly asked, looking over at Y/n whose eyes only moved to meet Yunjin’s gaze who caught a glint of something in them. That little glint Yunjin knew what it meant as Chaewon spoke up.

“Since when are Yunjin’s pictures bad?”

“Well they aren’t bad, but they aren’t genuine.” 

“What are you on about?” Chaewon groaned in annoyance at the youngest while Yunjin looked between them. 

“I know photography, okay.” Y/n calmly responded, her hand slipping the phone out of Yunjin’s hold, going through settings while listening to what her leader was saying. 

There was one thing the feline always loved doing and that was what the little glint in her eyes was; mischief, especially around Chaewon. Y/n was good at a lot of things, but something she was extremely good at and also enjoyed doing was riling up her leader for no particular reason.

“Your pictures are actually always terrible.” The oldest huffed and sat down on the stairs with the help of the railing as she crossed her arms, staring at the black cat and golden retriever. If she didn’t know any better Chaewon would assume that they didn’t even acknowledge her presence when they were together with how engulfed by each other they were. 

The backstage of the place where they had their comeback showcase was empty at the moment which was the perfect opportunity for pictures before others would show up for the same reasons. 

“No, I just intentionally make them bad when I take pictures for you, anyways they aren’t true to you because your smile is too forced,” Y/n commented and looked up from the phone, her arms coming around Yunjin’s shoulders from behind as she stood on her toes so her canine could look when she would take pictures. “You never smile at me like that,” she finished and watched the scowl that covered Chaewon’s face within a second.

“That’s because you literally just proved that you never give me a reason to smile at you,” the leader exclaimed, losing her temper as usual when it came to the feline who always knew how to somehow get on her nerves with ease. 

Chaewon could burst a vein before Y/n would break a sweat. 

Even though Chaewon knew that Y/n did it intentionally she still fell right for it no matter how hard she tried not to. The feline was impossible to win against.

“I’m just giving feedback and you’re being rude,” the girl mumbled, jutting out her lower lip as she looked at Chaewon, blinking her cat-like eyes in an owlish manner. 

The girl on the stairs watched how both girls in front of her tilted their heads to the side; Yunjin’s gaze filled with uncertainty as she stayed unusually quiet while Y/n’s gaze was menacing behind the feigned innocence. 

“I am not.” She stubbornly huffed, scoffing as she side-eyed both of them with an ugly glare of judgment. Her mind trying to process how Y/n managed to look so calm while crumbling her cool. 

“I think Yunjin would agree with me that you are.” Y/n quipped while angling the phone to get ready.

“She always agrees with you.” Chaewon retorted, her cool long lost as her blood pressure had risen tenfold, an accusing finger directed right at the poor canine who now had all the attention on her. 

It made Yunjin lean back and closer to Y/n at Chaewon’s accusation. Whenever the feline caused mischief, the canine always seemed to be present at the scene of the crime; defending the girl and like Chaewon said; agreeing with her. 

“You do look a little too nice and happy,” Yunjin finally spoke up, pointing out the same thing the girl, who was clinging onto her from behind, pointed out. 

It was enough to snap Chaewon up from her seat on the stairs as she stood up in anger with a scowl. “What else am I supposed to be if not happy!? Do you want me to look pissed off in my pictures—” Her furious ramble caused by Y/n and enhanced by Yunjin was cut short.

“Now we captured the real you.” Y/n’s mundane tone took up light as she smiled after taking pictures of her angry leader whose ears were turning red. She quickly handed the phone back over to Yunjin who took it without question while Chaewon was stomping down the stairs.

Y/n moved aside, still somewhat hiding behind Yunjin just in case while the anger-infused girl snatched her phone out of the canine’s hold. Chaewon hated dealing with the two all by herself, just Y/n was enough, but with Yunjin at the feline’s tail, it spiked her blood pressure and felt like a kindergarten. It made her wonder why she went with the two alone and didn’t bring the oldest member. 

“I told you that only one person loses their cool like this!” 

Their heads turned at the voice and Y/n snuck her fingers through the belt loop of Yunjin’s pants; the girl was her source of comfort, one that she usually appreciated during social situations. Y/n was aware of how socially inept she was, especially with people she didn’t know.

However, her posture relaxed the slightest at the person; Wonyoung who was a friend. It didn’t last long as the IVE leader came into sight after rounding the corner with a big smile. They quickly bowed at each other before Chaewon was pulled into a hug by Wonyoung.

“We were on our way to get something to drink and heard you.” Yujin happily exclaimed to the eldest, making Yunjin and Y/n snort and Chaewon send a glare their way.

“Uh, the vending machines are out of order here,” Yunjin spoke up, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. 

Y/n stared behind the two girls, her glare was set on the wall behind them, but it was starting to grow on her. It was impossible to not feel the stare on her as they all talked. The feline sighed and fixed her gaze on the pair of eyes that weren’t leaving her alone.

She blinked as she stared back at Yujin who gave her a smile that didn’t make her smile back. The girl was overly excited and energetic for Y/n to even want to acknowledge her; her social battery was low after being away from home for the whole day and performing. Another outgoing person was the last thing she wanted or needed. 

She had enough of an excited and energetic canine around her all day already now a second one was staring at her with a similar pleading puppy-eyed gaze Yunjin would give her.

This one wasn’t one Y/n would melt from and say yes to. 

She didn’t know why the girl was drawn to her, but seemingly everyone who was the opposite of her was. 

“I honestly forgot the card.” The attention was drawn to Yujin who spoke and looked at Wonyoung with her lips pursed. 

Y/n finally thought she could relax after not having to hold Yujin’s gaze; refusing to let it go before the latter to not appear affected by it. In her head, she won the, albeit one-sided. stare-down. She leaned against Yunjin, her head resting on her shoulder, who wrapped an arm around her waist for more support. 

“It’s fine, Y/n has hers.” Y/n stood up straight and leaned forward to look past Yunjin where beside her Chaewon stood. The leader gave a sarcastic smile while the feline’s eyes bore into her soul. Oh how much Y/n would annoy Chaewon for setting her up for a social situation when all she wanted was to go home and be alone. 

“Oh no, it’s fine, we can’t just take her money like that.” Y/n looked away from Chaewon and at Yujin who bowed with a small blush covering her face at the offer.

“If only the rest of my members would be this considerate with my money.” The girl emphasised, shooting a glance towards her other two members as it seemed like the whole group of Le Sserafim lived in her wallet. 

“No, it’s fine, Yujin.” Yet the leader continued to push.

“Well, it’s not ‘cause I don’t remember bringing my card, Chaewonie.” The three other girls looked between the two. Yunjin’s hand soothed over Y/n’s back, getting the feline’s attention whose gaze was hard, barely managing to soften even for Yunjin at the moment. 

It made Yunjin look down as she cleared her throat, trying to further soothe her feline by rubbing circles over her lower back as she spoke. It didn’t do much soothing because if the feline had a tail it would be puffed up. 

“So uhm…Chaewon and I were getting drinks earlier and–”

“You know, it’s whatever at this point—” Y/n didn’t let Yunjin finish as she grabbed hold of her card that got taken out of the canine’s pocket who then gave her that look that Y/n hated. The feline found it embarrassing that she was close to trembling from how hard she was trying to stop herself from giving in in front of everyone because that wasn’t like her. Y/n’s mile-high glaciers didn’t melt for anyone and she always preferred solitary. 

“I will gladly buy my seniors something to drink. What do you two want?” The girl gave in, looking at the two girls as Wonyoung playfully rolled her eyes at Y/n’s stubbornness which washed away by a simple puppy glance from Yunjin. It was unlike the girl and she felt annoyance boiling up inside her yet she knew how to hide it behind her perfect facade and not show it. 

“I will come with you.” Y/n wished she even had time to decline it, but she was yanked away from Yunjin’s hold by a similar haphazard hold but this wasn’t her canine but Yujin. 

“You’re still all the same.” 

Y/n slipped her hand out of Yujin’s grasp and took a step to the side to put space between them, her shoulder almost brushing against the wall as they walked. The action would come off as rude and too blunt to anyone unless they were close with the girl, but somehow Yujin didn’t take offence in being dismissed by the girl. 

“How would you know?” Y/n grumbled, clicking her tongue when the girl still walked closer to her to close the awkward–four feet–space between them. The feline continuously flicked at the black card in her hand, not caring if it would at some point snap from how she was bending it. She wasn’t enjoying herself and was sure to make it known. 

“Because I know you, Y/n/n!” 

“Weird, if you did know me, I would know you too which doesn’t seem to be the case at all.” 

Her eyes stayed in front, completely trying to blur out the girl in her peripheral vision yet it felt impossible. The stranger kept looking at her with familiarity and fondness in her eyes. Y/n would declare that the only reason why she knew about Yujin was because she was an idol she had heard about. 

“You said you wouldn’t forget about me during the time away.” The coldness didn’t make Yujin’s warmth die out as her tone was laced with glee, her eyes creasing into crescent moons from her smile as they turned the corner. 

“I did?” Y/n threw the question over her shoulder, her tone apathetic as she wasn’t entertaining the girl. All she wanted was to get it over with.

She stopped in front of the vending machines as Yujin hummed, using her card before stepping aside to let the latter get the drinks. 

“Yeah.” She further confirmed, glancing over her shoulder as she crouched down to get the two drinks. A smile rested on her lips as she looked at the feline she knew, the feline who didn’t know her. 

However, Yujin wasn’t mistaking Y/n for someone else and knew that the girl was stubborn and that she wasn’t one to hold petty grudges, but instead removed the people from her life to the point of not knowing them. Was it the truth though? 

Yujin also happened to know that even if Y/n could strongly dislike someone with a passion and hold deep grudges that made her completely erase the person from her life; she wasn’t one of them and that she could make the feline come around without her claws out. She was optimistic and very sure of it. 

Yet Y/n wasn’t sure of what she was supposed to remember. “Weird, I can’t remember it neither can I remember you.” She persisted.

Yujin was unfortunately just as persistent though. “Oh come on, Y/n!” The older girl exclaimed with a light laugh as she stood up and looked at the girl who was leaning her side against the vending machine. Her eyes scanned the girl as they stood face to face, being only an inch taller, but their eyes met perfectly.

Yujin softened her posture and smile, coming off gentler instead of being ecstatic and overwhelming as she knew Y/n even if the girl said otherwise.

“You’re more likely to forget your name before you forget someone else’s.” She mumbled and pursed her lips after as the girl didn’t reply and stayed quiet, her eyes were on Yujin’s but they were distant and cold as she was thinking; thinking deeply at that. “You just don’t like admitting to it.” 

Y/n passed by Yujin as if she were a ghost, not uttering a word, however, the door was left open, letting Yujin follow right after her. She maybe didn’t say anything, but she didn’t lock Yujin out in the cold rain. It was just like Yujin said and Y/n would hate to admit to it being true and right now she was beyond annoyed with the girl who was trailing after her like a lost puppy looking for a home.

“Plus it’s only been a year.” She pointed out, skipping in her step as she couldn’t help but feel excited around the grumpy feline. She had tried to contain it, but it wasn’t possible as she could run circles around Y/n from glee. 

It had been a year after all.

A year of what? The feline thought.

“Y/n/n.” Yujin called out behind her as she walked with her arms crossed, in deep thought. 

Who was Y/n/n? Y/n had no clue, she didn’t remember the name, and she had no clue what it was. As far as she knew her name was Y/n. 

“We could meet up, I want to pay you back!” The puppy-like girl eagerly offered, doing a small jog to walk beside Y/n who at last stopped thinking.

Although she was far from done with thinking and contemplating, it was simply too difficult to do when someone was annoyingly persistent and needy right beside her. It wasn’t letting her think. She suddenly really wanted to be back at the dorm, locked inside her room all alone to be able to deeply think about every little detail until she could perfect it in her head and act out on it rationally.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to, it’s only two drinks.” She quickly replied, eager to leave as she hastened her pace.

“But I want to.”

“No.” Y/n bluntly declined as they were approaching the other three, but she almost flew back when she was stopped by her shoulder. She turned on her heels and looked at Yujin with a frown; the girl was stopping her from her objective as Y/n had her whole evening planned out now. 

“You have to, you can’t just bluntly decline your senior's request.” Yujin tried, but she knew that it was a futile attempt. 

“I literally do not care about senior formalities because if I did I would never get to be at home.” There was no one to stop her so she could bluntly decline every senior she passed. She wasn’t going to pass up on it now that her members weren’t around to stop her from being straightforward.

“Please?” Yujin pleaded, her eyes hopeful as she looked at the girl in front of her, but Y/n turned her back on her with another no as she walked away and towards the other three. She didn’t have time to ask again as the second she caught up Y/n was already leaving with Yunjin happily trailing right after her while talking. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The feline rested her chin on her knees which she hugged while staring ahead; the green room was filled with chatter. They were about to leave any second. Yunjin was right in front of her on the couch as she put clips in the feline’s hair to make time pass faster while they waited.

She had tried to engage more with Y/n–having a lot to tell her as usual–but ultimately settled for her company in silence after realising that the girl was busy being deep in thought. It was fine for the canine, she loved Y/n’s company no matter what way it came in. 

Being quiet together in a rowdy room made it feel like it was just them and she liked that. 

She knew that Y/n was aware that she was willing to listen to whatever it was that had left her thinking the way she did; she often did, but Yunjin also knew Y/n enough to see that they were complicated thoughts.

Y/n had those often and never did look for solace because she refused to ask for help. She had always been stubbornly independent and rarely listened to anyone else’s input. But Yunjin was a rare case because she did open up to her albeit with some difficulty. She found the girl in front of her extremely comforting. 

However, her mind was loud as she was sorting everything out, going shelf for shelf until it was all perfect and she could make a final decision after analysing each option. Y/n was quiet most of the time, but this was a new type of quiet.

“Here you go.” 

Yunjin was the one to look up as Sakura’s presence didn’t seem to register for Y/n. The eldest let Yunjin take it before walking off. Her eyes merely inspected the folded piece of paper and she quietly slipped it into Y/n’s hold who finally looked up with confusion.

“It’s apparently for you,” Yunjin informed and reached for her phone to take pictures of the feline whose hair she had decorated with a few colourful hair clips. 

Y/n heaved a sigh and looked at the white paper that had been ripped off from a bigger paper; unfolding it with slight annoyance at how unnecessarily many times it had been folded. 

‘Don’t forget your name: you will lose your freedom if you let someone else take it away. 

You won’t find back home without it, Y/n/n >:( 

Saturday 1 P.M. I will pick you up’

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[lilyandthegenshinbrainrot]

Frederica Gunnhildr, and her familial ties

"For Mondstadt, as always" is the Gunnhildr family motto. Every time I use my Vision, I am reminded of my mother and the hopes of the people of Mondstadt. - Jean Gunnhildr

Frederica Gunnhildr, one of oldest leaders of Mondstadt, is the mother of Jean Gunnhildr and Barbara Pegg. She is the second-in-command of the expedition that Grandmaster Varka, Knight of Boreas, has led to unknown origins for unknown reasons. She has been working as a knight for longer than most of the current knights have been alive, and she enjoys being on the front-lines fighting for Mondstadt's safety. All according to Phonia, of course. She thinks incredibly fondly of her eldest daughter, as she taught Jean everything about their family's history, their nation, how to be act with the grace of the heir to their name, and swordsmanship. Jean is considered one of the best with a sword in the nation currently. She even wrote to her, saying that she has found a new sword for Jean and promising that it will do well to keep her safe easily. More so, Frederica hand-sewn the uniform that Jean usually wears to work, but the second outfit that Jean has used to be hers as well ! She does also love Barbara, as she sent her a lovely sunflower dress for her youngest to wear as she performs in her idol work and is written to be spending time with both daughters in Gunnhildr's Legacy description. Which tells me that she both knows of and supports her youngest's dreams and ambitions, even if she is not active in her life. Frederica does however give more time and attention to her heir, of course. She raised her alone. Which brings me to her marriage. Frederica, as established, loves the fight and loves the city. She is a proud woman with incredibly high standards and even higher work ethic. The woman was the inspiration of an entire generation of knights, and has long surpassed the requirements for becoming a Captain, if not for her own love for the front-lines. This is presumably, where she met Seamus Pegg. The Cardinal of Daybreak, a famed ex-adventurer whose name was once known across Teyvat before he settled in the Church of Favonius, cast aside his old self, and became the man of faith that he is today. I think she married him to secure her family lineage, because the way that she raised Jean is so focused on her future contribution to the city that even the people joke, A Gunnhildr learns to say "For Mondstadt, as always" before learning to say "Mommy." Which is why Jean is so... disciplined.

I think that she was excited to meet someone as formidable as herself- a respected adventurer- and she ended up with a man who... perhaps was unprepared for the Gunnhildr expectations. Sure, they were married with two children but I believe Frederica left Seamus. Remember what I said about Gunnhildr's Legacy, Jean's second outfit? Yes! Seamus kept her ceremonial clothes for years after their divorce. Why? She didn't care about those clothes ! She immediately tells Jean to keep them ! "Those were the clothes I wore when they granted me the title of 'Alder Knight.' You can take them, if you don't mind." And admittedly, while it would tragic enough that this poor woman married a man solely for her family name and for Mondstadt, I cannot help but wonder what they were like together because of that last line. Take them, if you don't mind. For a known proud woman, that sounds awful close to begging. Why? I wonder if this pious man, who quickly became an authority in the church, would turn to Ms. Gunnhildr in an effort to secure Barbatos' favor. After all, Gunnhildr's biography is public and everyone knows that Barbatos favors that family line. Was he the sort to marry for that ? Did he wonder if there was a family record, a Gunnhildr's autobiography ? Did he agree to marry Frederica in hopes of receiving private information about their nation? You know that they have it. It's suspicious to me that an adventurer would quickly rise through the theocratic ranks of one of TWO government reigning organizations in Mondstadt, when his wife was already a well-established name in the other. Seamus, a retired traveler and treasure hunter, what were you expecting in your marriage? Did Frederica leave once you gave her a legacy, or did she leave when you asked for things that don't belong to you?

[wonwoosthetic]

Hii!! I hope you're having a great day, I've been loving your pre-outbreak!joel fics (especially the way you write the Millers omg). On that note, could you write something fluffy about reader having a sick day?? And Joel and Sarah just taking turns watching over her. Thank you so much!! 🫶

A Day Off

warnings – flue, sickness, mentions of dizziness, medication, but mostly cute Miller fluff

word count – 6.2k

a/n – I decided to make it part of my “Couldn’t Love More” series, I hope that’s okay ˙ᵕ˙ Thank you for the request, I hope you like how it turned out!! And I hope you have the best day possible🫶🏼🫶🏼

2004

"Is mom okay?" The soft voice of Sarah rang through Joel's ear as he was preparing his usual morning cup of coffee.

While the two Millers were already downstairs, the little girl munching on some cereal and the oldest of the family standing in the kitchen with his favourite mug in his hand, you had run back up upstairs, having forgotten to put on deodorant for the long day of work ahead of you.

With scrunched eyebrows, Joel turned to his daughter, "What do you mean? Because of her cough?" 

 The evening before, you seemed to be doing perfectly fine, but almost as soon as that clock hit midnight, you couldn't lay still next to your partner anymore. All throughout last night, up until that morning, you had been coughing your lungs out, along with a runny nose that didn't seem to be getting any better.

Sarah nodded, "It doesn't sound good." The cereal still filling her mouth.

"Don't speak with food in your mouth," her father warned her, using that typical dad voice the girl has had to listen to all her life.

She swallowed. "I said it doesn't sound good."

"I heard what you said," Joel brought his cup of coffee to the dining table, taking a seat right next to the youngest Miller, along with a hot cup of tea he had prepared for you. "I asked her, and she said it's all fine."

His statement earned him an unamused facial expression. "And we both know that's not true."

He nodded with a sigh, "I know, but what do you want me to do? You know how stubborn she is."

"She's not!" She argued back. Joel closed his eyes for a second. Right. Don't tell the girl, who definitely got the stubbornness from his wife, that his wife is stubborn. How could he forget...

"Alright, but still. She won't listen to me. I already told her to stay at home."

Sarah scoffed, "And that's it? When I'm sick, you two don't even let me fight back. You basically lock me into my room."

"We don't lo-"

"Mum?" He was interrupted by you coming back down, catching the girl's attention.

You hummed in response, followed by a cough as you tucked the blouse tighter into your pants.

"Why don't you just stay at home today?" She wondered, to which you sent her a look of confusion, directing it towards Joel for a split second.

"Why? What's wrong?"

Sarah got up, the bowl in her hand when she passed you, only stopping to point a strict finger at you. "You're sick. That's what's wrong." Before continuing her walk to the dishwasher. "You should stay home."

You chuckled as you sat down next to your husband, whose hand found its way right to your back, brushing over it gently, motioning towards the cup of tea waiting for you. "It's just a little cold. If even," you blew on the hot water, hoping to lower the temperature. "Might also just be the result of someone at work thinking it's necessary to blast winter temperatures through the A/C."

Joel's fingers started running through your hair, detangling the small strands your brush had missed.

"Still," Sarah didn't stop arguing. "Sick is sick, and you should stay home." But you just shook your head with a smile. Another cough followed that you were able to hide into the inside of your elbow.

"See." The girl passed you with a knowing glance as she walked up the stairs into her room to get her backpack.

"You sure, you'll be fine?" Your husband's eyes were still on your side profile, sending you a warm smile once you turned to face him.

You placed your free hand on his thigh and gave it an assuring soft squeeze. "Yep," you nodded, "I'll be fine, don't worry." Just as you leaned in to give him a quick kiss, he dodged out of the way. You gasped, gazing at him with your mouth hung open.

"You heard her," nodding towards the stairs where your daughter was just coming back. "Sick is sick. And I'm not risking that."

"Wow...," you gasped, "Unbelievable. Not even a kiss?" Joel shook his head. A devilish thought crossed your mind, getting the corners of your lips to curl up. "What do you think about a stepdad, Sarah?" Making the girl immediately look at you in confusion. "Someone that would kiss me, even if I actually was sick." The man next to you rolled his eyes. The hunk of a horn coming from the garage let you know that the younger Miller brother had arrived. "Someone younger, hotter, more-" The gentle tug of your hair cut you off, making you grin as soon as you felt the familiar hot breath next to your ear. Thank God, Sarah had gone into the hallway to get her jean jacket.

"Careful, darlin'," his low vibrations tickled the side of your neck before you could feel his lips on your skin.

"Well," you shrugged, "I'm sure there's someone out there that would still kiss me even with a stuffy nose."

He had started petting your hair again. "Keep searching darlin', and the moment you find that someone will be the day I have my first kill."

"Joel!" You shot up straighter in your seat, turning your entire body towards him with a shock written all over your face - yet, a smile was still on your lips. The oldest Miller was in no way a violent person, that much you knew. But, when it came to family, you also knew that there was nothing he wouldn't do. Not a single thing. 

He shrugged a proud grin plastered on his face when your hand came up to push his cheek, mimicking a gentle slap followed by a chuckle.

Sarah passed you two again when a second hunk echoed through the room. "I'm going," she rushed to stand between you two, engulfing you in a big bug, "Love you!" Getting the same words of affirmation in return. She made her way to the door before stopping, "Oh, and mum!" 

Making you look up while Joel's gaze was still fixed on you, wondering how even with a stuffy nose and a cough that could scare away every kid, he was still as attracted to you as when he first saw you in that tight party dress you had worn.

"Let me know how that search for a stepdad is going!" Giggling at the reaction of her father.

"Excuse me?!"

While you laughed out loud, your hand falling back onto his thigh. Your laugh didn't last long, interrupted by another wave of coughing, that you tried to calm down with a sip of your tea. 

Joel stood up and tapped your head, "That's what you get for saying shit like that."

-

The lunch break was almost over, and each employee was putting their helmets back on, throwing their one-way coffee cups into the bins, ready to get back to work. The contractor was still sitting on one of the benches, looking over their final plan for the building behind him, the hot temperature of his beverage long gone, now ice cold. Tommy hadn't joined him as usual, but it wasn't all that new to Joel. Sometimes his brother tended to disappear during his break, coming back only barely on time and usually with his belt missing - no questions needed, everyone knew where he had been.

Just as the oldest Miller brother lifted his head, he squinted his eyes, for one due to the sun, but also to make out the silhouette of the younger brother as he run up to him. Unamused, Joel took a quick glance at his watch,

"Three... two... one... and you're late." He glanced back up at the now panting man, who was holding onto the wooden table.

"Late?!" Tommy exclaimed, "I literally just got back in time."

Joel shook his head, "You haven't clocked in yet," packing his stuff back up as he got up from his seat.

"Jeez, come on, man! Can you cut me some slack?"

He stopped in his tracks to turn back around, shoving the A3 piece of paper into the younger Miller's chest, "I've cut you some freaking slack often enough, Tommy. This shit's gotta stop."

"I just-"

"No," Joel shook his head, "No excuses. I've told you this before. We've got a tight schedule. There's no time for your stupid little acquaintances."

Tommy sighed, still giving no signs of moving while his brother was already a few feet away.

"Have you checked in on your wife?" He shouted out loud, making the older man stop again, glaring at him in confusion.

"What? Why?" It was unusual for either of you to contact the other one during your workday. You much rather enjoy the evening together, ranting about your coworkers and employees in the comfort of each other's arms rather than over the terrible connection through your phones.

With a proud grin, Tommy walked up to him, his hands secured in his pockets. "Well, that's where my acquaintances actually come in handy."

"What the fuck you talkin' about?" Joel was on the verge of his patience with his younger brother, more specifically with that massive ego of his.

"You know that blonde one from Y/N's office?" The younger brother questioned with a smirk, ignoring the glare of the other man. "Tall, blonde, green eyes, usually in those tiny skirts, and Jeez... those big lips that just look magnificent around my-"

"Tommy," he stopped him with a raise of his hands, "Get to the point. For God's sake...," mumbling the last part as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Right, right, sorry," the younger one snapped back into it, "When I went to see her, she told me that Y/N was sent back home because she almost blacked out at the-"

"What?!" Joel raised his voice as soon as the words rang through his ears.

Tommy crossed his arms with a deep breath, "Yeah, apparently she wasn't feeling well, but stubborn as fuck and wouldn't go home until her boss came."

"Jesus fuck..." without wasting another second, the oldest Miller snatched his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. "And you couldn't have gotten to the fucking point sooner." His fingers moved quickly, ignoring whatever Tommy was talking about in the background, as he clicked around hastily to call your number.

His grip on the rolled-up paper tightened while a sigh fell from his lips, dropping the phone again, "Of course, she won't pick up..."

Within a second, he pushed the floorplan into his brother's grip and took his helmet off the decorate Tommy's head with it instead, "Congrats," he patted his shoulder, "You just got promoted for the day."

"Wh-"

"I'll be back in a bit. I'm gonna go check on her," he was already brushing past the younger Miller, jogging towards his car, "You keep everyone else in check in the meantime!"

"I got ya!" Tommy shouted back at him, "Make sure she's okay!" Before Joel disappeared in the parking lot after sending him a last thumbs up.

The entire car ride was filled with heavy breaths leaving the older man's lips, curse word after curse word echoing through the small space - Sarah's curse jar would've gotten filled to the brim if she had been there to hear him.

He knew it wasn't a good idea to let you go to work today. No matter how stubborn could get, he deeply regretted not starting a possible discussion to keep you home. Now he had to rush back home in hopes of finding you there still on your feet, while his heart was daring to break through his ribs and chest. Never before had the drive to your shared house felt so damn long, even though he was sure to have broken multiple laws.

You insisting on not getting a car was making his anger bubble up just a tad more. You had told him that Tommy and he each having one was enough, and that you were more than happy using the public transport. Joel had given into that way too quickly. Your sweet voice tended to have that effect on him. But now, knowing that you had to take the bus after almost blacking out-

He didn't even want to think about that. Please let that blonde co-worker of yours have lied to Tommy. Or maybe she just heard a rumour going around the office - that shit travelled quicker than lightspeed according to your tellings.

Before his thinking could make his brain explode, he pulled into the driveway, leaving the car outside of the garage and sprinted to the door. He, once again, found it unlocked, making him almost shake his head - how was their daughter ever supposed to learn to lock the door when even you, her biggest role model at the time wasn't doing it. But that was a conversation for another time.

Once he busted through the front door, his eyes scanned the living room hastily. You not appearing right then and there just sent another wave of anxiety through his body. Joel continued to look for you in the kitchen. Still not here. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. That's when he heard a thud coming from upstairs. He didn't waste another moment and raced up the set of stairs.

"Darlin'?" He called out for you. Before he could reach the top, your head popped out from the doorway leading to your shared room. A breath of relief washed over him.

You glanced at him in confusion, "What the hell are you doing here?" Joel ignored your question, coming up to stop in front of you, gently getting a hold of your jaw to get a good look at your face.

"Joel-" you swatted his hand away, "Wh-"

"Why didn't you call me?"

"What?"

Another sigh tumbled from his lips as he walked back downstairs after making sure you didn't hurt yourself on the way home. He still noticed your red nose and the slight scratch in your voice, so he was already planning on making you a second cup of tea.

"Why didn't you call me?" Joel repeated the question while moving through the kitchen to get everything he needed.

You followed him into the dining space, tightening the sweatpants you had put on after taking a shower as soon as you had arrived home. "Why call you? And what are you doing here?" Followed by a cough.

"Call me?!" He turned his entire body to look at you, "Maybe because you blacked out at work?!" He didn't dare to raise his voice much, just making sure the tone was enough to let you know how serious he was about this subject.

"W-...," you shifted on your feet, crossing your arms over your chest. "How do you know about that?"

The oldest Miller took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, "Your co-worker called Tommy. Sweeth-"

"How does my co-worker know Tommy?"

"It doesn't matt-"

"Yes, it does!" You argued back, now standing in the kitchen with him, your back resting against the counter.

One look from your husband was enough to tell you everything you needed to know.

You sent him an unamused facial expression. "No, he doesn't."

"Yes, he does," he nodded gently, pouring the hot water into the mug he had prepared for you.

"Joel-"

"It's not import-"

"It is to me!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" He wondered, placing the cup of tea right next to you.

You shrugged, "I don't know... Castrate him."

A chuckle fell from his lips followed by a sigh, looking up at the ceiling with his eyes closed before his gaze stopped on you again. He couldn't stay mad at you for long when you looked at him with those kind eyes and that little smile you were trying to hide.

"Why didn't you call me?" He brushed your wet hair away from your face, securing it behind your ear, his voice now back to the gentle tone you're used to.

"There was no reason to."

"You almost blacked-"

"I didn't," you interrupted him, "I got dizzy. I didn't black out. And before anything could happen, my boss sent me home. Nothing bad happened."

"But it could've," he reasoned.

"But it didn't." Your statement wasn't enough to convince him.

"Are we gonna fight about that now?"

You smirked, "Not if you just drop it and believe me. Instead of that desperate housewife of a co-worker, I have."

Joel closed his eyes for a quick second before nodding towards the mug on the counter beside you. "Drink your tea."

With a smile still plastered on your face, you opened your arms and took a step forward to wrap your arms around his torso. Not even a second passed before your husband engulfed you in a hug, his rough hand holding the back of your head close to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," lifting your head to catch his eyes, "I didn't mean to."

He glanced down at you, cupping your face in his palms, his thumbs tracing invisible lines of your cheeks. "I told you to stay home today."

"You did," you admitted.

"And Sarah said so too."

"Yep, she also did that."

"So you're gonna listen to us from now on?"

You put your thinking face on, pressing your lips into a thin line. "I'll think about it."

Joel shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss onto your forehead, mumbling against it, "You're gonna be the death of me, darlin'. Don't scare me like that again."

You chuckled, tightening your arms around him, "I'm sorry. I won't." Placing a loving peck on his chest once he let his arms wrap around you again. "I love you."

"I love you too," he declared like he always did, giving the top of your head another kiss.

A few seconds passed before you felt a soft pat on your butt and Joel freeing himself from your embrace, reaching behind you to place the mug into your hands.

"What do you need from the pharmacy?"

You lifted your shoulders, moving to sit at the dining table, "I don't know. Nothing, I think. It's just a cold, it'll go away."

"Darlin'," Joel's eyes didn't leave your form, "My throat hurts listenin' to you talk."

"Wow," you lifted your head to glare at him with an open mouth, "You really know how to compliment a woman, don't ya?"

He smirked, "I thought that's why you married me."

"Among other things, sure," you copied his facial expression as he got closer to you again to place the back of his hand on your forehead.

"Did you check your temperature?"

You shook your head, "Not yet, I took a shower right when I got here."

"Alright," he grunted, getting his phone out of his back pocket to check for any missed messages, "I'll go see what the pharmacy has and get a few things from the store for soup."

"Joel, I'll be fine just resting-"

"Do you want me to drag you to the doctor's office?" That question made you shut your mouth tightly. He knew how much you hated doctors and hospitals - that bastard used your weaknesses against you. He earned himself a glare from you.

"I'll take anything the pharmacy gives you."

The corners of his lips curled into a proud grin as he lowered his head to peck the top of your hair once again. "That's my girl." In the next moment, he was out the door, and you heard the roar of his engine.

-

Joel didn't cook rarely. Every now and then, you'd get the gift of his cooking - well... the gift of watching him cook since the food itself usually turned out... alright. Eyeing him in such a domestic scene was much more of what you'd be thankful for. But now, you didn't even get to enjoy the sight of him in the kitchen, thanks to him forcing you to stay on the couch, the TV being your only form of entertainment.

"Joel!" You cried out loud, "Please let me help!" Almost begging him since you knew, you'd eventually have to eat whatever he was putting together in the other room.

"Don't you even dare get up from there!" He shouted back before the clanking of pots and pans hurt your head, only motivating the headache that had started an hour ago.

"But-"

"No discussion!" You rolled your eyes. Normally, Sarah was in your position, and you or Joel would be in the kitchen, telling her the exact same thing. With you now right there, you were starting to understand the frustration of the little girl.

"I'm ill! I'm not dying!"

You heard his heavy footsteps before your eyes fell on his body stopping in the doorway, a kitchen towel in his grip. "Don't say stuff like that. And drink that," he motioned towards the medicine he had mixed up for you before disappearing again. You didn't even want to look at that glass. The colour that fluid had, looked toxic and like it shouldn't be consumed by a human. It smelled just like that as well.

"But it stinks!"

"You know, you're starting to sound like Sarah?" Making you roll your eyes. You were a big girl. You could do this.

With disgust written all over your face, you reached for the glass and without much more debating, knowing you'd back out of it, you chucked the whole thing in one big gulp. Noises of repulsion immediately left your lips that you clearly faked yet couldn't hold back.

Joel entered the room, a bowl in one hand, and a mug in the other.

"You're being dramatic," he commented on your actions, setting everything down on the coffee table in front of you.

"Maybe," you groaned, "But this shit is revolting."

"It'll help you get better."

"I sure hope so," you scoffed, leaning forward to get a hold of the mug.

He took a seat next to you, the pills he had bought for you now in his hand, out of their packages. He handed them to you, to which you grimaced. You hated swallowing pills.

"Take them," he rolled his eyes.

"You know, my mom doesn't believe in pills." She was a very spiritual person.

Joel took a deep breath, "I know. I talked to her about it."

"Oooh, yeah!" You laughed out loud, slapping his upper arm as the memory of their discussion at your wedding came back to you. Sarah was recovering from a cold she had, and while your mother was talking Joel's ear off about herbs and oils that would help, he stood his ground on his opinion about trusting whatever medicine she had been described - your mother did not agree with that.

He shoved his hand closer to you. "Just because your mother doesn't like them, doesn't mean you don't, right?"

You shrugged to answer him.

"You want me to grind them for you? Put them under some food?"

"No, no," you snatched the pills out of the palm of his outstretched hand - your other hand got a hold of the mug. One pill after the other, you threw it down your throat, a shiver going down your spine after each. Joel watched you grimace in amusement, his hand running down the back of your head with a smile.

"Good girl," he kissed your cheek, which earned him a death glare from you. His eyes widened, "What?"

"You know what that does to me, and you won't even kiss me!" You whined, throwing yourself back against the backrest of the sofa, a cough following.

A laugh erupted from your husband as his hand landed on your thigh, rubbing and squeezing it gently. You tried pushing it away, but that only entertained him more.

"Take your medicine and I'll kiss you all that much more once you get better," he grinned, placing multiple pecks on the side of your head and pulling you into his chest.

"Is that a promise?" You teased, feeling him shake from chuckling.

"That's a vow."

-

"Darlin'."

You felt a soft shake against your shoulder and fingertips tracing your face.

"Darlin'." 

A groan came from you in response as you opened your eyes, making realise you must have fallen asleep earlier. Your eyes danced around the room - you were still on the couch in the living room. They landed on the body hovering above you. Joel smiled as your gazes met.

"I gotta go back to check on Tommy and the guys, but Sarah's here now. She'll take care of you until I come back."

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows, "No, what about school?"

"She just got back."

"And homework? Friends?" You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, "I'm sure looking after an adult is the last thing she'd want to do-"

"No, don't worry-"

"I want to look after you, mum!" Sarah interrupted her father, skipping into the living room, with another mug in her hands. You were starting to get tired of seeing them.

You smiled at your daughter, "That's very nice of you, Sweetie. But it's so pretty outside, don't you want to go do something?"

"Not if I know you're here sick," she quickly answered before exiting the living room again.

Joel watched her leave, a proud look on his face as he turned his attention back to you.

"She's too kind for her own good," you commented.

"I wonder who she got that from," he smiled, caressing your cheek with his fingers, making you roll your eyes. Joel crouched down to be on eye-level with you, lowering his voice as well, his fingers not leaving your skin. "You wanna go upstairs? I think the bed might be a bit more comfortable."

You nodded while he straightened his back, standing back up on his two feet.

He nudged his head, "Come one." Reaching out his hand for you to take, but you had a different idea. You shook your head with a pout and opened your arms. Joel chuckled with a shake of his head. He could've expected that. Your husband didn't need to be told twice before leaning down, pulling the blanket off you and moving one arm underneath your knees with his other wrapping around your back to cup you up. 

He couldn't help but let a quiet groan fall from his lips as he moved back up. With a chuckle, you slapped his chest,

"Come on, old man." A grin spread on his face, followed by pretending to let you fall, making you screech and wrap your hands tight behind his neck, "Joel!"

"Call me old again, and I'll drop you for real, sweetheart."

He felt your loving eyes on him as he carefully took step after step, carrying you safely upstairs.

"You wouldn't do that." Poking his chest to tease him.

You're right. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He would never drop you. You were safe with him. For now and forever.

-

Only moments after Joel left you alone in the bedroom, another pair of feet echoed through the upstairs hallway. Sarah appeared in the doorway, a beautiful smile decorating her face while holding tightly onto a bowl.

"Dad said you fell asleep before you could eat, so I heated it up again." She got closer to the bed, placing the dish on the nightstand to your right.

"You didn't have to do that," you pushed yourself to sit up on the bed, "But thank you."

"Wait for me," she quickly told you before rushing out of the room, leaving you for about a minute before coming back, another bowl and a book in her grip.

"You're eating your dad's cooking?" You jokingly wondered as she made herself comfortable on the other side of the bed.

"I'm very brave, I know." Her answer made both of you chuckle in chorus. Jokes about Joel's cooking would never get old.

With the two of you holding onto your bowls, you went in first to get a taste of what you had expected to be the most tasteless watery substance you could imagine. You were surprised by multiple layers of flavours. Sarah hummed in agreement.

"Oh wow," you commented.

The little girl nodded, "Not bad, dad. Not bad."

"Not bad indeed. I was ready for something else."

"I was ready to run to the bathroom and spit it out," Sarah stated, making you laugh.

You fell into a comfortable conversation, asking her about her day and what she was up to later in the day, only to get "obviously, looking after you. Just because dad can cook all of a sudden, doesn't mean he won't need my help," in response.

The girl had her way with words.

After you finished cleaning out the bowls, Sarah brought them back downstairs, only to join you in the bed again minutes later. Before she made herself comfortable again, she made sure you'd have tissues, a glass of water, and some pills Joel told her to keep close, right on the nightstand.

"Are you comfortable? Do you need another pillow or-"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sarah," you patted her hand as she laid down next to you.

"Alright, but tell me if you need anything."

You nodded with a chuckle, "I will."

After closing your eyes, you could feel her moving and rustling as she reached out to get something.

"I have to read this book for school. Can I read it out loud to you?" She wondered, placing it in her lap, glancing to the side to see your eyes looking up at her.

"Of course, sweetie." You pulled the covers tighter around your body, ready to listen to her soft voice. "What book are you reading?"

"Sweet Valley High," she told you with a deep sigh, opening the book on the page she had left it.

"You don't sound fond of it," her clear annoyance made you want to smile. You knew exactly why she probably didn't enjoy the piece of literature her teacher had assigned them to read.

"Because I'm not," she stated with a scoff. "This is ridiculous. It's a terrible book with a terrible plot."

"It can't be that bad if it's school literature, sweetie." You tried to explain, hoping to give her a sense of understanding, even though you could imagine how annoyed she must feel.

"But it is!" She whined, "Our teacher probably only gave us to read that because more than half of the class are girls. Ridiculous..."

Before she could even read the first word on the page, she closed the book again. "Can I please read one of yours?" That question wasn't unfamiliar to you. It happened more than you'd like to admit - a 14-year-old asking for books of yours because she found the literature for her age 'boring and all the same' and had even called some authors 'possible illiterates, as well as the teachers for assigning such books'. In reality, she was just unchallenged, and you were more than happy to help with that. But you still had to remember your role as an adult and, more importantly, her mother.

"But you have to read this book, Sarah."

"And I'll get to that once I have the patience," she got up from the bed. "I promise. But right now... I need to read something better than some girl's high school drama." And disappeared, not waiting for an answer from you.

Once she was back, you were already half asleep, but still noticed it when she found her way back next to you, humming in happiness as she made herself comfortable.

Before sleep took over you completely, you heard the first words fall from her lips, "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents-"

You smiled to yourself. She chose Little Women, one of your favourites.

-

The moving covers and rustling made you open your eyes again. You were still laying on your right side, in the same position you had fallen asleep in. The only difference now was, Sarah wasn't next to you anymore. Instead, she got replaced by her father, who was not so subtly, trying to get into bed without waking you.

Joel found your eyes trained on him, making him immediately stop, the bed sheets in his hand up in the air, "Sorry, darlin', I didn't want to wake ya."

"It's okay," you mumbled, moving closer to him as soon as he got under the covers, "You were never smooth or quiet at moving around anyways, Miller." Your legs interlocked with his, making sure you were as close to him as you could be. You had spent enough time apart, now was your time to enjoy having him right there next to you.

He chuckled at your confession, "I'm sorry." Once you were cuddled up to his side, he lifted his arm to wrap around you and place your head on his chest, but that was interrupted with a groan as he pulled something up from underneath him.

"Was Sarah readin' this?"

You opened your eyes and nodded, the soft smile back on your lips.

"Why on earth is she readin' a book from the last century?" He always remembered the little details you told him about the books and authors you loved.

"The more important question is why aren't you reading books from the last century," you poked his chest. Joel placed it on the nightstand and grabbed your hand into his bigger one, warming it up with the natural heat of his palm.

"You're right, I shouldn't have asked," he quickly commented before changing the subject. "How are you feelin'?"

"Better... I think," a yawn escaped from your throat, followed by a soft cough, "I slept pretty much the entire afternoon."

"That's good," his hand found your back, rubbing it in a comforting way. "You're supposed to sleep a lot."

You nodded. "How was work? Did the guys behave?"

"Yeah," he grinned, "Mostly. Tommy says sorry for sleeping with your co-worker, but also, and I quote, 'The ladies want, what the ladies want. And who am I to deny them of that'."

A moan in disgust erupted from you, "Oh god... He's disgusting." You both chuckled.

A few seconds of silence were shared with Joel's hand running up and down your body before he spoke again.

"You ate the soup?"

"Yeah, Sarah heated it up for me. And she also had a bowl." You lifted your head to look at him, "And we must admit, you did surprisingly well."

"What do you mean surprisingly?" He sounded genuinely curious about your answer as he glared down at you. "What were you expecting?"

"I don't know... but you know..."

"What do I know?"

"You're not the best cook, Joel," you admitted with a gentle smile, "So we were prepared for the worst."

"The worst?" He scoffed, "You two are unbelievable," and turned his head away from you, making you giggle.

"Joel," you whined, but the grin didn't leave your face, "Come on," you sat up straighter to cup his cheeks and turn his head to face you. But that man had his eyes closed. "Look at me." He shook his head. "Look at me, Joel."

"I'm not looking at you until you apologize."

"Are you serious?" You tried to contain your laughter as well as you possibly could, remembering that a girl was sleeping across the small hallway from you. "You know your talent isn't in cooking, handsome." Your fingers brushed through his hair as you caught him finally looking at you again.

"I actually didn't know that I was such a bad man in the kitchen, but thank you for the critique, I guess," he tried to keep the annoyed facial expression, but it was cut off by your synced laughter echoing through the room. He damn well knew about it. Sarah never let him hear the end of it. He will forever be 'an okay cook and a terrible baker'.

The sounds coming from you died down the moment your gazes met again, your fingers tracing his jaw.

"Would a kiss be apology enough?"

His face scrunched up, "With all of that bacteria still in your body?" You tried. With a roll of your eyes, you pushed yourself away from him, ready to turn around and go back to sleep, but his grip on your wrists stopped you. Joel pulled you in again, his lips hovering less than an inch above yours. 

"I couldn't ask for a better apology," he whispered, making you grin. You won. There was no way that man could go more than a day without stealing a kiss from you, and that's just what you wanted.

With that smirk still plastered on your face, you tilted your head up to finally meet the soft touch of his lips, pressing yours against his mouth. You would be ready to care for him once that man flu hit him, and you knew you would have Sarah right there with you as well.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

[solar-wing]

⚣ Duke To The Rescue 💈

⚣💈A/N → Usually, I write my reader characters as general as possible in all manors of looks and traits so as many people as possible can relate (whether male or g/n). But, I wanted to give some special attention since I rarely see any content like this being an African-American writer and reader myself. Hope you all like it! Plus, this is triggering some dark memories of when I used to get my hair cut so enjoy my pain lol.

⚣💈 Summary → You're the newly adopted Wayne kid after your parents are caught in the crossfire of one of Batman's battles. Bruce, trying to prove himself a better father, attempts to do your hair but since he knows nothing about African-American haircare, you're in for a painful ride. Your poor hairline...

⚣💈 Words → 2.0k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please!💛

⚣ ENJOY 💈

“Okay, so how do I do this?” Your dear old dad asks.

“I don’t know! I’m just a kid! Aren’t you supposed to be the parent and know these things?” You asked with your hands waving around animatedly as you sat on a stool chair taken from the dining room into one of the many bathrooms.

Bruce gave you his signature frown while looking at the assortment of combs and hair products on the sink.

After your parents had gotten caught in the crossfire between Batman and one of his notable nemeses, the billionaire decided to take you in, making you an official Wayne kid.

For a 7-year-old, you were very knowledgeable. Something your new legal guardian immediately noticed after adopting you, and because of your age, you were now officially the youngest kid Bruce had taken in. 

You were also the only other African-American kid Bruce decided to take in outside of Duke. And that didn’t even really technically count since Duke was already a teenager by the time Bruce officially adopted him.

So, your adopted father was at a loss for words while staring in the mirror at your hair while you played games on his phone. Your hair had grown to a considerable length, and you’d been asking your adoptive father for a while now to help you get this new style that was becoming more popular called ‘twists.’ Well, new to you since you hadn’t seen it before.

‘I thought that was a dance move.’ Bruce thought to himself.

When you showed him the video you saw, the Dark Knight persona immediately decided he was taking you to a professional barber who knew more about your hair texture and maintenance to give you what you needed.

At least until Jason ran his big mouth.

“Wow, old man. Can’t even take care of your own kid’s hair. Shameful.”

He was really just patronizing the older man, always enjoying the moments when he got a reaction from him now and then. But, he’d begun to regret that decision when he along with your other siblings saw Bruce carrying an armful of hair products and tools to the upstairs bathroom while holding your hand in his other hand leading you upstairs.

It was quite comical seeing the frightened look you threw at your second oldest brother as he along with your other siblings watched Bruce’s towering frame lead your tinier one up the grand staircase with you looking like you were heading for your doom.

In hindsight, you might have been, and Jason could only smile sheepishly at you as Bruce led you toward the bathroom.

Now, they all stood outside the bathroom watching their shared father struggle as he read over the ingredients from the different hair products.

“How bad do you think this is gonna go?” Steph asked.

“Oh, I’m betting on a full shit show within the first 10 minutes,” Dick said while munching on some popcorn.

“10? You’re too graceful dickhead. I’m betting 3 and half minutes tops.” Jason threw out while reaching to grab some popcorn before having his hand slapped by the acrobat. “Hey!” He yelled in offense before getting into a sorta-ish fight with Dick, trying to tug the bag of popcorn from him.

“Cut it out, you two! You act like wild children throwing tantrums.” Damian snapped at the two vigilantes.

“Says the actual child who throws ninja stars and daggers during a tantrum when daddy grounds him from patrol,” The Red Hood persona remarked, stuffing his mouth with a handful of buttery popcorn after nabbing the bag from his older brother who was now mean-muggin' the shit of him.

Damian growled at Jason, rolling up his sleeves before Steph grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him back to his place. The second Robin laughed while taunting the young assassin, throwing kernels at his face.

While that was going on, you sat and watched Bruce read label after label on the various hair-care product bottles.

“Uh, Bruce, are you sure we can’t just go to a barber?” You asked, a fearful tone evident in your voice which did not do well for Bruce’s confidence. Even as a 7-year-old, you could tell when a situation was about to go left without the side comments from your adoptive siblings.

“No, no, Y/N! I got this. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t take care of my own child’s hair.” Bruce said while reading the red bottle. He was holding his phone in the other hand, reading a review online under his breath, “...mixed with a high amount of sulfates to help cleanse build-up of oils and other products in the hair.”

“You realize Jason was joking, right? Right?! Jason, tell him you were joking!” You frantically shouted, turning in your seat towards the vigilante who held a sheepish smile while his mouth was full of popcorn.

“I was joking.” He tried to say, words muffled by his chewing.

“Y/N, calm down. If Bruce can handle taking down crazy madmen and women at night as Batman, how hard could it be to do a simple hairstyle?” Tim spoke trying to reassure you.

And it almost worked…until you felt Bruce try to brush your hair with what you were sure was Stephanie’s hair brush.

“Is that my hairbrush?” Steph asked.

“It says I’m supposed to pick his hair out before washing? Is brushing not the same as picking?” Bruce asked, looking at his kids with the most confused face.

“I’ll pray for you at your funeral, Y/N.”

The desperate and confused face on Bruce's face was actually so adorable that if you weren’t terrified for your scalp (and life) at that moment, you would’ve hugged him just to help him feel better.

Cass had walked into the bathroom before grabbing a larger comb off the counter and switching it with the hairbrush in Bruce’s hands before returning the purple hair tool to its rightful owner.

“Thanks, Cass,” Steph said.

‘You’re welcome.’ She signed back.

“Alright, here we go,” Bruce uttered before grabbing your shoulder and placing the comb at the base of your scalp, pulling back to ‘pick’ through your hair.

“Ow, OW, OOOWWWWWW!” You shouted in pain while holding on to the counter for dear life, feeling like your face would tear in half.

“Bruce, you’re going to rip his head off!” Dick yelled, coming to your rescue, “You gotta comb from the sides.”

He pulled the comb to the side of your hair causing your head to yank in that direction.

“OW!”

“Whoops, okay, maybe that was wrong,” Dick said, smiling in apology at you.

“Alright, you idiots, get out of the way. Looks like another issue I have to take care of for you.” Jason stated, placing the popcorn down before cracking his knuckles which really did not help ease the nerves and fear you were feeling in your stomach. He pulled up his sleeves and licked the butter off his fingers, which, gross by the way, “You gotta pull with some strength.”

“OOOWWW!” You yelled, glaring hard at your older brother who once again just smiled sheepishly at you.

“You guys are hopeless,” Tim sighed, grabbing the comb only to make it worse by tangling more into your hair.

“TIM!” You screamed.

“Maybe I’m hopeless too.” He said, a confused expression taking over his face as he tried to figure out how to solve this.

“Okay, simpletons. Move over.” Damian said.

Your eyes went wide at that.

“UH UH, back away gremlin!” You grabbed the nearest thing that could be considered a weapon which turned out to be another hairbrush. Not even caring, you decided you would make it work. 

Damian was not allowed anywhere near your hair.

“What the- I’m older than you!”

“So?!”

“Fair point, brother.”

Stephanie tried to help but only managed to get the comb fully lost in your hair. You could feel yourself getting dizzy and a headache coming on as your head had been yanked back and forth in different directions. 

As your family was busy yelling back and forth at each other while playing tug-of-war with your scalp, none of them even noticed when Duke came up the stairs, confused by all the chaos.

“What’s going on?” The Signal persona asked Cassandra.

‘They’re trying to do Y/N’s hair,” She signed.

Duke’s eyes went wide as he heard your cries of pain before rushing into the bathroom.

The tears forming in your eyes were clear as day as your tiny hands gripped the counter with everything you had, feeling like if you’d let go at any moment, you’d be yanked out of the chair and swung back and forth like a yo-yo. Duke also saw Damian creeping through the mess to grab at the tangled comb in your hair, giving it a yank causing another cry of pain from you making him smirk in cruel enjoyment.

“Hey!” Duke screamed at the top of his lungs, effectively shutting everyone up and turning their attention toward him. “Everyone out!” He pointed his thumb behind him. They all quickly shuffled out of the bathroom, mumbling to themselves while Bruce remained behind, looking quite beside himself.

Duke picked up the bottle the older man was holding in his hand before turning it over, seeing the ingredients and what he had pulled up on his phone.

“Really, Bruce? Sulfate?” Duke said.

The billionaire only groaned before his forehead fell into this palm, “I should’ve just taken him to a barber.” He grumbled,

Duke looked towards you, seeing how tense you were and the fresh tears in your eyes from the amount of pain your scalp was in.

“Don’t worry, little bud, I got ya.”

~~~

A few hours later, everyone was waiting in the kitchen while Alfred served refreshments before hearing your happy feet skipping down the hallway, Duke right on your trail. Your hair was done, washed and conditioned, and twisted right into the style you wanted.

“Ta-da!” You yelled upon entering the kitchen, opening your arms as if you were giving a grand finale. A mix of delightful reactions and cheers filled the room from your family members, everyone smiling at how excited you looked. Even JDamian, despite how small it was.

“Wow! Look at you, Y/N,” Dick said, biting into an apple.

“Hold still! I’ve got to get pictures for my feed.” Steph said while coming to take some pics of you.

“You look quite charming if I do say so myself, Master Y/N,” Alfred said, before handing you a cookie.

“Thanks, Alfred!” You said, happily munching on the treat, before climbing into one of the stools without any assistance. Okay, you had a little help from Jason to make sure you didn’t slip, but since he didn’t mention it, neither would you.

Bruce walked up to Duke, who was still standing by the entrance to the kitchen leaning against the wall.

“Thank you, Duke.” He said, patting his shoulder, which was weird for Bruce, but he was learning how to show more affection to his kids now that he had you so everyone was slowly getting used to it. 

They were also weirded out by it too.

“No problem. Just glad I got here when I did. By the way, why didn’t you just take him to a barber?” He asked.

Bruce looked reluctant to say, so the brown-skinned boy didn’t push it, “Don’t worry. I won’t ask. But, if you want me to teach you how to take care of it, just ask. I learned from watching my parents do my hair growing up. Then, when I kind of had to start taking care of myself in the foster system, I picked up some different tricks here and there.” He explained, answering Bruce’s questions before he could even ask.

“Thank you,” The older man said before their heads turned at the sound of you screaming.

They saw Damian next to you with another smirk as you rubbed the back of your still tender head with an irritated grimace at the youngest Robin.

“Damian!” Bruce shouted.

“What? That’s what he gets for calling me a gremlin.” Damian said before he felt a harsh tug on his own hair, looking back to see you with your own mischievous smile.

“Ow!”

“Now, we’re even, gremlin.”

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[sad-leon]

Doe + Change

Doe expected things to change, but not this much.

She'd always felt more feminine than her brothers, but didn't really have a name for it until Donnie confirmed that she was, in fact, female. Her genius brother had helped her search it up. Transgender. There was a whole community out there like her.

Neat.

Except, they weren't really like her. She was lucky enough to be born in the right body, just raised differently. She didn't have to worry about hormones or surgery or other surface issues like jobs or school. She has her lovely supportive family.

So, fine. Maybe she didn't have a community, but she had her brothers and that was fine!

Until wrestling matches disappeared. And she was given first choice on movie nights even when she lost the arm wrestles or whatever silly little game they decided to play. And when she lost a game and was met with compassion instead of teasing.

It was starting to get annoying.

She already had a rough night, but the thought of Dad letting them go up to the surfact to patrol gave her hope. She could run with her brothers again! They could race! And things would finally be normal again when they realized that nothing actually changed.

A gentle knock on the wall caught her attention. "Hey, Doe? You up?" Mikey asked. Doe frowned. Usually her little brother wouldn't hesitate to barge into her room.

Taking a breath, she plastered a smile on her face and sat up. "Yup! We're going to the surface, right?"

Mikey lit up. He nodded aggressively. "Yup! Yup! Raphie told me to come get you while he gets Donnie!"

Standing up, Doe grabbed her jacket, tugging it loosely over her shoulders. "Was he in his lab late again?"

Shrugging, Mikey stepped to the sided, gesturing for Doe to leave the room while he closed the curtain behind her. "Raphie just said that he'd going to 'drag donnie out of that lab and barricade the door' if he keeps ignoring Raphie's knocks." Mikey lowered his voice to immitate the cadence of their oldest brother.

Trying to ignore the flare of annoyance at not even being allowed to close her own curtain, she chuckled. "Donnie will get back into his lab if it's the last thing he does."

The two youngest turtles made their way into the common area where Raph was tugging a beanie onto a very disgruntled Donnie.

Doe sidled up to the side of her twin and elbowed his side. "Someone wasn't sleeping, huh?"

Donnie just gave her a huff. "Scoff. I was just trying to finish up my newest battle shell."

Raph grumbled and pulled the beanie down over the softshell's eyes. "You went to bed two hours ago. I told you to stop doing that. You need to sleep!"

Fixing his beanie, Donnie glared at Doe. "Well atleast I slept."

Raph gawked and turned to Doe. "You didn't sleep? Why? Are you feeling okay?"

Doe rolled her eyes at the gentle tone her oldest brother adopted. "I slept fine."

"You were sending me memes until about an hour ago," Donnie grumbed. "I have the timestamps."

Trying to lunge at Donnie proved futile when Raph gentley intercepted Doe, setting her down a few feet away from her smug twin. His face was nothing but concern and he gently put a beanie on her head as well. No teasing. No pulling the beanie down. Just concern and gentleness.

Doe just huffed, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets and pouting.

Raph looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped and turned around, leading the way to the entrance of the lair. "Okay, you all know the rules. Stay close to me and don't run off. Again. Or Raph will be very upset. Again."

"Yes Raph," the three younger turtles agreed and followed Raph out the door and through the tunnels.

The surface was much colder than Doe had though. Her jacket was not thick enough at all, and she had also worn her thinest pair of sweats. Repressing her shivering, she pushed forward. It was fine, she'd be able to warm up once they got moving.

The beginning of the patrol was normal. They bantered. They raced. They jumped around. Then Doe slipped.

She was running to make a leap, slipped on a puddle near the edge of the roof and totally missed the next roof. She grabbed onto a windowsill and hauled herself up, climbing onto the next roof.

"Doe!" Raph had yelled. And even when she pulled herself up, he was looking at her with nothing but concern. He stepped back, getting some momentum to leap onto the rooftop next to Doe. "Are you okay?"

Doe shrugged away from his hands, fixing her coat and beanie herself. The annoyance was turning into irritation. It made her blood itch. "I'm fine Raph."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Mikey and Donnie landed onto the rooftop next to them only a moment later.

Expecting some sort of jab or tease, she turned toward her twin only to be met with concern. "Are your shoulders sore? Do you feel any tension when you move them?"

They were a little sore, but Doe wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of having an actual cause for concern. "What are you, Don? The medic?"

"No. But that looked like it could have potentially hurt."

Doe just rolled her eyes and turned away, planning to continue the patrol.

Raph put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "I think we should go home."

"What?" Doe hissed. The itching was become unbearable. Her hands twitched, as did her tail.

"You're tired and you're also probably sore, even if you don't feel it."

"I'm fine!"

Raph just groaned and starting to walk back the way they had just come. "Let's go."

Doe fumed. "No! We just go out here. Yeah, sure, fine. I slipped, but I'm fine!" She turned to Mikey and Donnie for support, but they were both angled toward Raph, frowning at her. "Really? Really?! I make one little mistake and suddenly we have to go home?!"

"You got hurt-" Mikey started.

"I'm not hurt! I'm fine! I slipped, I biffed it, took an L -- whatever you wanna call it -- and I'm flattered you guys are concerned about lil ol' me, but really? No teasing? No nothing?" Venom was starting to lace Doe's tone but she couldn't care less. "Gah! Ever since I came out you guys have changed! I just want what we used to have back!"

Raph looked stunned, but took a breath and said in the most annoying calm voice, "I know you're tired, but we're just concerned."

"Gahh!" Doe yelled, throwing her hands in the air. "Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! I'm sick of this!" She sent a glare at her oldest brother before turning around and running.

-----------

Threw this one up on Ao3 :D

it was much longer than i meant it to be... oops

[starrclown]

Random things in my Hazbin Hotel rewrite that I added for lore, character, or because I think it's cool

(I might do this for my Helluva Boss rewrite because these take up alot of brain space and I wanna infodump so Tumblr is my bitc-)

Triggerwarning: Talks of death, suicide, murder, other nasty stuff.

Angel has a daughter named Isabella. (This is Angel Dust. I took the Dust out of his name because in my rewrite Angel is ashamed of his drug addiction. I wanna clarify incase someone gets confused.)

Angel and Husk were born in the same year, 1891. Angel died at 56 while Husk died at 86.

Husk and Valerie (Vaggie)are probably the most innocent at the Hotel.

Angel, Alastor, and Nifty have all killed people. Nifty has only killed one person, her husband.

Both Angel and Nifty were married when they were alive.

Sir Pentious is now a girl. She is now Madame Pentious.

Husk is Transgender.

Husk has a Russian background. He also knows Russian.

Angel and his family are not from America. His family are immigrants from Italy. They came to America when he was about 7.

Alastor is black. He's not mixed anymore.

Cherrie is almost deaf. She can hear somewhat but she is almost excessively deaf from being around explosions all her life.

Angel is blind in his right eye. Things... happened to it.

Since Cherrie is hard hearing and Angel has only one eye, they help each other alot. Angel learned sign language to talk to Cherrie if she's having a hard hearing day. Cherrie usually walks around with Angel if he's in a unfamiliar area.

Both Alastor and Angel are overlords. (I'm gonna have to work out what makes a overlord a overlord )

Charlie is a doll. Litteraly. Her parents made her with demonic magic. (More like a puppet but you get it.)

Charlie has a bad relationship with Lucifer. Lilith on the other hand is a loving an attentive mother.

Valerie even though she doesn't look like it, is very good with certain weapons. Not good with hands on though.

Mimzy and Angel are good friends.

Vox and Velvette don't like Valentino. They stick it out with him because their territories are objectively smaller than Valentinos. They are both weaker than Valentino.

Vox and Valerie have the biggest inferiority complex out if the main cast.

Tom Trench has had a crush on Katie Killjoy for about 20 years now. Katie is aware of it. She toys him along all the time.

Valerie can't speak.

Vox and Angel have a brother like relationship. Velvette shares the same thing with Angel. Only Velvette likes it.

Nifty was the youngest to die. She's 18.

Husk was the oldest to die.

Considering Nifty died so young she often can revert to a teenage life mindset. When someone (Mostly Angel) treats her like a child because that's what she is, she gets upset. Really upset. She doesn't understand why everyone treats her diffrently.

Nifty also tries to argue that she's grown up because she not only had a husband, she has to be bad like a adult because she's in hell.

Alastor shows blantent favoritism when it comes to the treatment of Husk and Nifty. (Hint: Husk ain't the favorite.)

Alastor is actually pretty nice. Despite how evil his is he is genuinely kind to most people. He was raised to be a gentlemen so he never really let that go as a adult.

When you die, after a significant amount of time, you can recive objects from your human life. There is two ways you can obtain objects from your human life. You either have it on you when you die or someone gives it to you as you die. Like being buried with a object or a object being set on your grave. This is how Angel has some memories of his family, someone set a scrap book on his grave. He has his necklace cause he was wearing it when he died.

Angel killed himself. He intentionally overdosed.

Charlie has biased when it comes to sinners. She's unaware of it but it's there. Charlie shows favoritism to younger sinners and to sinners who died from unnatural causes or to wronged sinners. This is demonstrated in the main cast. Charlie treats Nifty, Valerie, and Alastor better than Angel and Husk. She doesn't treat them hostility by any means but she gives alot more leeway to those three then Angel and Husk. She treats Angel objectively worse. If something bad happens and Angel has a part in it, then Angel will most likely take blame. She treats them worse for diffrent reasons. Angel because he killed himself and Husk because of how long he lived.

While Charlie doesn't like killing sinners, she will if pushed far enough.

Angel hides what he actually looks like. He didn't come down to hell looking as he does currently.

Valerie will do almost anything to get validation. Her self hatred is that big.

I have more but this is getting long.

Ask questions if you want. If your curious.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[weirdoartist21]

I sure most know this but I noticed no one mentioned anything about it

So as we know Peppermint is 23 and Kale is about 38(Probably the best number we got according to the creator) 38-23 is well 15 so Kale was 15 when his sister was born. And as we know Peppermint has been clearly the favorite child since literally she would have been the one to take over if she never had left. Now imagine being in Kale's situation, you most likely want to be like your mom and take over then you get a sister suddenly. Then that chance of ever taking over your mom's company becomes slim, despite you are the oldest and usually in history or that the oldest is the one to get the 'throne' The youngest kid only would ever become heir to the throne if A the oldest one is unable to do it do to death or sickness or B they turn the title down and leave. But the only one that could fit this would be A but Roxanne would have clearly used Vandelay to heal her son upright if he did get truly sick which I theorize he got into the same accident as Peppermint that made her lose her leg or he got badly sick like Roquefort maybe that's why he let him join Vandelay cause he knew how it felt to be so sick that your body is failing you. Yet the description for Kale Boss looks said the keyword 'upgrade'. So either Kale never had the robot body before and decided now was his chance to actually live then suffer or he had a robot body but it wasn't cut out to him either he did need a better one for his health or he just wanted to feel stronger. The key thing is that Peppermint does mention Kale is always used by people but he would be an adult by the time Peppermint could even remember the earliest thing in her childhood. So not sure how she would have known who Kale was if clearly, she wasn't there for his life. I may be sounding crazy but I'm sure I would be real upset if my younger sibling suddenly became the favorite and took a dream of running my family company in seconds. I know Kale was a teen when Peppermint was born and babies need a lot of attention but we all remember how hard and struggling being a teen was. But I can say Kale is a bad person, I mean he mind-controlled his own mom to get what he wanted and tried to kill Chai many times and gave zero care when his coworker turned into fireworks/a pancake. But as we know people aren't born bad, they grow bad without the right help.

Anyway welcome to my ted talk sorry for my rambling

[jun-hug]

dream team art school! au

Doodles that inspired me to write a little drabble fic :)

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

This was Georges biggest project,

okay maybe biggest project this semester... or last 2 months, either way the assignment occupied boys attention for couple last weeks, especially this week. That's why his two best friends were so eager to meet up, it felt like they haven't seen him in so long yet they go to same university. When brunette texted on their group chat asking for a hand with a photoshoot he haven't even blinked an eye before they eagerly agreed.

What's even more exciting, boys haven't seen George's project yet! The oldest kept it a secret to "prevent the leaks" because apart from it being his assignment it was also an entry to one of his most ambitious fashion competitions. The fashion awards of all US fine arts universities. He had high hopes for it.

"Alright I'm almost ready, remember to put the ISO to 200, I borrowed those lights for a reason!” Georges words were a little muffled but still understandable as he worked on setting his design as perfectly as it could get.

"Got it Gogs, come on we don't have a whole day!” they did, their classes finished at 11am today and it was Friday so they were free for the next days. Sapnap was just eager to see the boys creation, after all he put all his heart into it, like he does to all his projects. "Actually we do" Dream interjected, youngest only glared at him knowing damn well he's as impatient considering constant taps on his thigh.

"Yeah Sap idiot, we have all day.. but you're right, it's better if the light from outside is still at it's best." he finally emerged from behind the wardrobe curtain. Okay. The boys were stunned it's not that George usually doesn't look like goddess himself - that's far from truth actually. It's just that this time they're seeing his art mixed with all his grace and beauty. Sapnap manages to whisper little "Oh god" only for Dream to hear, as the tallest boy starts "You-”

The baby blue glowy shirt, ornamented with flowered embroidery makes his face look soft, bringing out his strawberry cheeks and eyes hinted with a bit of peachy shadow. It all contrasts, yet fits without fault with a long, red, mermaid cut skirt. It's flowy, the material decorated with blue beads in the shape of hearts- And oh-

Dream gasps, Sapnap inhales loudly. Fishnets, George is wearing fishnets and the cut in the thigh is so high it shows his left leg fully. good christ, they are so down bad. Sapnap eyes Dream and They can really just see how both of them are fully raspberry blown faces.

They are both hot. red.

And The brunet who's the one and only cause is clearly oblivious to their reaction as he innocently asks "so how does it look?", makes a gesture with hands showing of the sleeves and frills on the skirt.

"I- you, it's well, George, it's so beautiful you look amazing." Dream exhaled eyes still on him, almost not blinking.

"George it truly is gleaming - I mean the colour palette for this one??? Ms Chevreu will loose her shit when she sees this! You actually are so skilled holy smokes” Sapnap added still admiring his friend's piece.

"awe thank you! I hope she looses her shit to be honest that would be funny, she's into reds recently so I think she will" boy snickered, his cheeks visibly tinted, not only from blush he applied couple minutes ago.

"alright!" he clapped his hands "time for shoot!"

Youngest set the light, while dark blond took photos to fill the entire SIM card folder. Taking that George was /very/ photogenic it was easy to catch the best shots, it's almost like he looks perfect in all of them. George is perfect tho, Dream thinks.

"Okay I think we're done, I took pictures from every side I think" Dream announced as George stretched "gods yes please my back is starting to hurt so bad" as to emphasize that he popped his bones ”ew George don't do that” Sapnap made a face.

"what do you mean you are the worst back popper I've met. Hearing only a scoff in response from other boy George's half lidded eyes closed for a little while.

"He's meditating guys!” Dream squeeked in one of his mocking voices, George giggled "he's died!"

"Okay, that's it I'm checking the photos!" Sapnap yanked the camera from the tallest's hands and plopped on one of the puff poufs. "Hey be careful you goose! this camera only cost me 5 and a half months of cafeshop money!” Dream hurried with scolding

George got up slowly and joined the youngest, soon enough all three of them were slumped on floor, brit in the middle looking and commenting on photos. "Hey guys.." brunet started, causing Dream and Sapnap turning to him.

"yeah?" dark brunette asked.

"thank you... for supporting me, like not only this time but at all" he turned his eyes from both pairs of theirs. Then he cupped each cheek and gave it a short kiss.

Boys blushed, all three of them.

"Yeah no problem Gogs, we'll always be your biggest fans" Sapnap breathed out.

"Always" Dream repeated.

And if for the rest of the day boys only watched movies all cuddled up on couch, snacking on anything they found in brunets kitchen, that was on them.

thank you for reading ♡

hugs,

Jun

[lovemyavatar]

Reflections

Lo’ak x Dad!Jake

based on this request, I hope this is close to what you wanted!

Warnings: so much fluff, Jake is a GOOD DAD goddamn it

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri says desperately. “My ears are bleeding.”

He turns from where he’s knelt beside the smaller bed in their tent. One hand is stuck beneath Neteyam’s tiny fingers, clutching onto him so tightly though he’s already fast asleep. The other rests on Kiri’s head, smoothing down wild hair as he tucks them both in for the night.

Neytiri is across the room, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a screaming Lo’ak wrapped snuggly against her chest.

A heavy sigh falls from Jake’s lips, brows furrowing with concern. The kid hasn’t stopped crying since he was born several months ago. No matter what they do, he isn’t happy. And they’ve tried it all. They’re close to losing what remains of their sanity, from lack of sleep and the constant droll of high pitched crying.

He rises slowly, peeling his hands free and planting gentle kisses on the foreheads of his two oldest children. He crosses the tent, palms smoothing down his mate’s arms soothingly.

“Want me to try, honey?”

“Please.” She nods tiredly, a relieved sigh dropping her shoulders.

Admittedly, Jake doesn’t have the best record when it comes to this side of parenting. Hunting, fishing, even playing, that he can do. He thrives in the lighthearted moments, loves chasing around his rambunctious toddlers.

But this, when they’re crying, it splinters his heart. Sits in his stomach like heavy stones. He can’t bear to hear his children’s sorrow, so Neytiri has handled it for the most part.

But Lo’ak is different. He’s so much fussier than the first two. Cries nonstop if he’s awake. They’ve even asked Mo’at for advice, afraid something’s wrong with the kid, but she said he simply needs more love.

Jake delicately scoops him up from the pouch at Neytiri’s chest. He gently lays Lo’ak against his shoulder, beginning to bounce the same way he’s seen her do to calm Neteyam and Kiri. One of his large hands pats the infants back, and within seconds, he settles.

Neytiri’s eyes blow wide with surprise, a grin slowly pulling at her lips. Jake’s brows raise as if to say wow, that really worked? Silence blankets the Sully family tent for the first time in weeks, and both parents release a breath of relief.

“That one is yours.” Neytiri declares, only half joking, before making her way to their shared bed.

Little did they both know, this pattern would become the new normal for the next several years.

When Lo’ak took his first steps, it was Jake he stumbled toward. Dada was the first word to fall from his lips. When he began playing, it was Jake he wanted, his little brows pinching in anger if his siblings even dared try to butt in.

Every bump, bruise, or fight with his siblings, only Jake could soothe him. Neytiri tried many times, but he’d only cry harder, thrashing in her arms and demanding his dad instead.

Jake, though always affectionate with simple touches, has never been a huge fan of cuddling. He’s a man who likes his space, but when it comes to his youngest son, he can never find it within his heart to say no.

Lo’ak is always on him. Balancing on his shoulders, hanging from his back, wrapping himself around one of his legs. Jake lets him do it, for some reason not bothered by the usual overstimulation of constant attention.

On the rare occasion Lo’ak is sick, Jake doesn’t even try to leave the tent. He has men lined up to take over his duties for however long his son needs him. He doesn’t hesitate, scooping Lo’ak up in his arms and tucking into bed with him to sleep off whatever’s in his system.

At the age of three, he carved his own action figures from a fallen piece of wood. He said it was his family, yet there were only two. One for him, and the other for Jake.

It was clear early on that his dad was his hero. He revered him like he was Eywa reincarnate, like he could do no wrong. Even when he did.

“You have got to be kidding!” Neytiri’s angry voice booms in the quiet tent.

“I know, sweetheart, I know—” Jake’s ears flatten against his head, arms outstretched in a gesture of surrender.

She hisses pointedly, lifting Lo’ak’s arm again to inspect the short scratch down his bicep.

“I’m fine.” He rolls his eyes toward the ceiling, a dramatic sigh leaving his lips.

“He is too young!” Neytiri looks away from the injury to glare at her husband.

Lo’ak’s face scrunches with irritation as he jerks his arm free. He holds it against his chest, the sharp pain hard to ignore. But he puts on a brave face, just like Jake taught him. He may only be five years old, but he’s already certain he wants to be just like his dad, which means showing no weakness.

“I’m not a baby! I’m a warrior like dad!” Neytiri's narrowed eyes cut to him at his raised tone, and he drops his chin.

“Hey, hey.” Jake coos gently, bending down to his height. He grips his shoulders lightly and turns him so he can catch his eyes. “We don’t talk to your mother like that, remember? Why don’t you go see your grandmother and get patched up? Yeah?”

Lo’ak’s lips push into a defiant pout, but he begrudgingly obeys, stomping his way out of the family tent. Jake watches him disappear with a frown, knowing he pushed things too far. It’s hard not to, when he sees so much of himself in his youngest son.

He recognizes the stubbornness, the recklessness that’s already gotten him into trouble at his young age. He's a reflection of himself, and it's gut-wrenching. He wants nothing more than to prepare him for the harsh reality of Pandora. He wants Lo’ak to ease into adulthood, an opportunity he was never afforded.

His worry, the apprehension he feels at every misstep, every mistake Lo’ak makes manifests into harsh words and raised voices. He’s too hard on him, but he can’t help it, only realizing when it’s too late the damage he’s done.

“You could you be so careless?” Jake yells angrily, finger pointing right in his son’s face.

Lo’ak curls inward, already familiar with this pattern. He does something wrong, and his dad flips his lid. Even if his siblings were a part of it, he’s the only one who suffers the blame.

He’s the black sheep, the screwup, the outsider within his own family. And he knows it already at the age of ten.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters the words though clenched teeth, bitterness raging in his chest.

It was an honest mistake. He didn’t intend to be out so late, to venture so far away from home. And he really didn’t expect Kiri to follow him, only showing herself when it was well past curfew.

“Yeah, I bet you are. You could’ve gotten your sister hurt, know that? You’re grounded. For a month.”

He nods in understanding, chin wobbling as he desperately tries to contain rising emotion. He wants to scream, to shout what about me? But he remains silent. The ever so stoic Lo’ak already in full force.

It only gets worse as the years tick by.

Jake finds it nearly impossible to see past their similarities. It makes him mean, cruel even when he knows he should be soft. He never thought he’d be in a position like this, watching a younger version of himself make the same mistakes time and time again.

The tension rears it’s ugly head when Lo’ak makes his first attempt at taming an Ikran. Jake watches anxiously, chest tight with emotion as his son flounders. He struggles to subdue the animal for several long minutes while his family watches with baited breath.

Jake attempts to intervene, but Neytiri won’t let him, explaining that the danger is something he must face, must conquer if he wants to be a warrior. He ends up failing, unable to make tsaheylu, and tumbles over the side of the hallelujah mountains.

Jake’s heart nearly bursts from his chest at the sight. He’s over the edge in an instant, not a care in the world if he gets hurt too. Luckily, Lo’ak survived with minimal injuries. Back in the Tsahik tent, Jake never leaves his side. Not even after he wakes up a day later.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Are the first words he croaks, hot moisture welling in his eyes. He’s scared, no, terrified that he’s disappointed his hero.

Jake’s face screws with emotion, hand smoothing down his son’s face comfortingly. He blinks away tears of his own, simply happy that Lo’ak is conscious.

“Just get some rest, boy.” Is all he says.

He realizes, much too late, that it wasn’t enough. That Lo’ak needed reassurance. He hasn’t gotten better at this part of parenting, at processing emotions and using his words. He much prefers to show his children how much he loves them. It’s what he’s good at. This…not so much.

Tension steadily rises, until it reaches a breaking point several years later.

“I can’t believe you!” Jake roars, furious with Lo’ak and his continued antics.

Lo’ak’s jaw clenches, nostrils flaring as he prepares to take the brunt of his dads wrath once again.

“Sir, it was all my fault.” Neteyam steps in front of him, arms outstretched.

“No, you’ve got to stop taking the heat for this knucklehead!” Jake shakes his head, icy glare looking straight past his oldest child. “You deliberately disobeyed orders!”

Neteyam lets out a deep sigh and returns to his position beside Lo’ak, head dropping to his chest. He knows arguing is no use when his dad gets like this. All they can do is grit and bare it, and hope it’ll be over sooner rather than later.

“I was just—” Lo’ak tries to defend himself, voice small.

“I don’t care what you tried to do! What you almost did was get your brother killed!”

Lo’ak seethes silently, too aware of the fact that no matter what he does, it won’t be enough. He wanted to impress his dad, show him that he can be as fierce a warrior as Neteyam. He’d only planned on dropping into enemy territory for a second, just long enough to grab some weapons and head home.

But, like most of his earnest attempts at shrinking the wedge between them, he’d failed.

When Jake is finished, Lo’ak stomps away, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He doesn’t stop until he finds a secluded part of the forest. Despite the fact that eclipse is in full effect, and completely ignoring the steady patter of rainfall, he sits outside for several hours.

He barely moves once, knees pulled tightly against his chest as he simply thinks. He ponders where it all went wrong, when his hero turned into this beast that’s never satisfied.

He doesn’t even realize he’s shivering. Not until Neteyam finds him, strong arm wrapping around his shoulders in silent comfort. His older brother guides him home, whispering words of encouragement the whole way.

Lo’ak doesn’t leave his bed the next day. It’s Tuk that notices first, surprised by his absence when their family gathers for the first meal of the day. Neytiri quickly checks on him, lips pulling into a frown at his state.

He’s wrapped in his blankets, trembling despite the heat. His forehead is covered in a cold sweat, skin hot to the touch. She immediately calls for her mother, who assures it’s only a mild cold. There’s nothing they can do but wait it out.

It eats at Jake, as he finds excuse after excuse to stay near the tent throughout the day. He keeps poking his head through the entrance, simply to confirm the slow rise and fall of Lo’ak’s chest as he sleeps.

His stomach twists with regret, knowing his words had upset his son to the point of sitting out in the rain. Lo’ak made himself sick over the harsh words he’d spoken out of anger. He’s anxious all day, knowing he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to his youngest boy.

Finally, as the sun gradually disappears behind the moon, he can’t take it any longer. He abandons his duties for the evening and makes his way home. His eyes instantly find Lo’ak, still curled in on himself on his bed.

Jake drops his gear at the door, padding toward his trembling figure. He kneels beside the woven mat, and Lo’ak rouses, bleary eyes squinting up at him in question.

“What—what are you…?”

Jake shushes him gently, running a soothing line down his temple. He’s cooled off significantly, but still feels a bit warm.

“I’m sorry, son.” He whispers, heart clenching in his chest.

Lo’ak’s eyes blow wide, having rarely heard his dad utter those words. Before he can fully react to the sudden display of emotion, Jake gently peels the blanket from his shoulders. He motions for Lo’ak to scoot over, which he does without hesitation.

Despite his lingering hurt and anger, he can’t deny that he just wants his dad. Truthfully, nothing has changed since he was a child. By now he’s learned to control his feelings, to hide any inkling of sadness about the growing distance between them, but it hasn't stopped the earning for his first and strongest protector.

Jake slides into the bed, propping himself up against the wall. Lo’ak breathes a sigh of relief, instantly cuddling into him. He rests his head on Jake’s chest with the help of a gentle guiding hand. They settle into a comfortable silence, both feeling at ease for the first time in years.

“I see you, son. You know that right?” Jake’s voice is low in the otherwise quiet tent.

A genuine smile splits Lo’ak’s face as he drifts into a peaceful sleep, finally having the one thing he truly needed to get better.

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 24 - Hard Words to Swallow

It had been a regular mission.

Not even the kick-butt kind, but a treasure hunt; Picking up a few trinkets from the scrapyard for one of Don’s stupid inventions. 

The goal was simple:

Retrieve the junk, maybe stop to get pizza, then head home.

How could his brothers mess up something so easy.

Leo, for once in his frickin life, didn’t even make a plan to follow. 

 “ Ok, you guys can do this- " The eldest stated mostly to himself, " Raph, keep an eye out at all times. Remember you can't be seen- and Don.. Keep an eye on Raph. “ 

Mikey watched from the couch as Don slung a satchel over his head, securing it on his freckled shoulder. Raph grabbed his twin sais and twirled them in his fingers, like a total showoff, before smoothly clicking them into place by the magnets on his belt. His crimson clad brother rolled his eyes and pushed Don through the door.

 “ Yeah- yeah- Be careful. Don’t get caught. Don’t die… Sheesh man, you’re starting to sound like Sensei… “ 

Mikey shot up swinging his arms in the air wildly.

 “ - And don’t you dare eat all the pizza!!! “ 

Had Mikey known these would be his last words to his brothers, he would've chosen them far more wisely.

Mikey had been waiting for hours. His foot tapped on the ground faster and faster as anticipation took over him. His hands held one of the brothers’ many prized comic books, but his eyes would constantly shift to the main entrance of the lair. He specifically had chosen Raphael’s favorite comic to read knowing full-well, ( and counting on ), the fact that his brother would completely lose his top at just the thought of Mikey touching his mint-condition, extremely rare Sumo Wrestlers comic.

It will be legendary.

Mikey made sure to keep his phone at the ready by his side. He had even practiced the motions of grabbing his phone, clicking a few buttons, and taking a photo. He had to be ready. Once Raph saw what he was doing- there was only one chance to snag a pic before Mikey had to start running for his life.

Like he said. Legendary.

Eventually, after Mikey finished re- re- re- reading Raph’s prized comic, Leo had walked into the Living Room. His eyes were a bit more tense than usual as he paced up and down the carpet on the stairs to the lair’s entrance.

“ Where the heck are they?? This is way past their curfew… “

Mikey groggily lifted his head from the way past boring comic.

“... Huh?.. “ 

Leo turned to his youngest brother with a ‘ Haven’t you been paying attention? ‘ look. Mikey shrugged. Leo sighed as he dropped his shoulders. Classic.

“ Mikey, it’s been hours. And they still aren’t back yet. “

Leo raised his eyebrows expectantly hoping Mikey would catch on to what he was saying. 

His youngest brother just stared with drooping eyes. A yawn caused his arms to rise into the air as he stretched, releasing a relaxed sigh as he fell back into the soft cushions.

“.. So…. no pizza then?... “

“ Mikey! This is serious! They should’ve checked in by now.. A text- a call- something.”

Leo began scrolling through all his messages after swiping his phone from the back pocket of his shell.

“.. There’s been nothing but radio silence since they left…..

..I never should have let them go off on their own, maybe they weren’t ready.. “

Mikey watched the oldest’s ice blue eyes dart through the texts. His brother’s shoulders continued to raise in a defensive position. 

 If he keeps this up, he’ll have a stress chasm in three seconds flat… 

Mikey groaned as he lifted his back away from the cushions, and then proceeded to flip backwards over the rim of the couch, landing perfectly on his right leg with his arms held out.

Well. Almost..

A deep ache reawakened in his ankle by the force of his landing. He yelped as his hands shot down from their position in the air, wrapping around the slowly darkening area. Without his arms to keep balance, and the pain stealing every brain cell’s attention that he had left, he quickly found himself watching the ground get closer and closer.

 I. Am. So. Dead. 

As he hit the floor, his ears picked up the sound of rapidly progressing footsteps. 

 I’m dead- I’m DEAD- I’m SOOOO DEAD. 

Mikey twitched a little at the sensation of his brother’s freezing cold hands touching his arms.  

SERIOUSLY, what’s with doctors always having ice cubes for hands?!?! 

“ Mikey! What were you thinking?!?! “

The youngest brother was kinda too busy to answer, as his ankle faded from a vibrant green to a greyish blue. 

 MAN ALIVE I forgot how much this hurt.

The younger turtle lifted his head from his plastron the tiniest bit, and gave a strained, 

“....Ouch…. “

Leo sighed and nodded his head back and forth as he rubbed his brothers’ shell.

“.. How bad? “

Mikey tried to move his foot.

Mikey never should have tried to move his foot. 

Leo flinched as his brother choked out a sharp gasp, clutching his ankle tighter.

“.. Ok! Ok- don’t move it!.. Let me help you up. “ 

The oldest didn’t hesitate as he lifted Mikey up bridal style, and walked to the couch. Even with all the pain making a mess of his brain, Mikey still put a few brain cells to work wondering how Leo can hold him so easily, even after eating three pizzas, six corndogs, and eight.. no, nine donuts today.

Being carried was so.. normal for Mikey. Almost as normal as his daily squabbles with Raph. Maybe it was just his right as the youngest. He was the cutest and most lovable out of his brothers, hands down. For as long as he could remember, no one has been able to resist his big beautiful blue eyes, so getting carried everywhere was always in the bag. There was a soothing comfort he always felt as he was being carried. His brothers’ plastrons were always so warm as they held him close, and even now at thirteen years old, he had to resist the urge to nuzzle his nose underneath their necks. When he turned eleven, he was told that he was too old for that. Sooo apparently, you shouldn’t like being warm and comfortable when you become a teen. Nice wisdom there, Raph. 

Mikey was brought out of his thoughts as Leo gently placed him down onto the couch. 

“ ..Can’t believe… stinkin’ one legged flip-  “ the eldest mumbled to himself as he carefully placed one of the fluffiest pillows underneath Mikey’s foot.

Mikey lifted his head as Leo got up and began walking to the kitchen.

“ Don’t. Move. “ The eldest called out with a pointed finger raised as he speedwalked to the fridge.

Mikey could hear the sounds of the freezer door being opened, and then some scratchy movements of some kind of bag. More footsteps followed, getting louder and louder as Leo returned to his brother’s side.

 Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. ~ 

Mikey couldn’t hold back the shiver that tensed his body as a bag of frozen broccoli was placed on his ankle. It didn’t feel.. amazing, but he knew it would help with the swelling. Been there, done that.

“ How does that feel? “ Leo asked, as he comfortingly rubbed Mikey’s right knee.

“ Not…very… good.. “ Mikey squeezed out, as his teeth started chattering from the cold.

Leo gave a sympathetic smile as he turned around to grab the thick afghan folded underneath the coffee table. 

“ Well.. that means it’s working.. “

Mikey let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the blanket enveloped his shivering body. His ankle still hurt, and the stinkin broccoli was still freezing, but the blanket really helped. As always, Leo knew what he was doing.

Another sigh was heard in the room as Leo joined his brother on the couch. Since Mikey was laying down though, Leo made sure to leave him enough space to still be comfortable. This left Leo propping himself up on the arm of the couch, twisting and shifting until he could balance properly. Mikey failed to hold in a laugh as his brother awkwardly flapped his arms as he nearly fell off the small bit of furniture.

“ Heheh.. Here, dude. “

Mikey carefully hunched over and grabbed the fluffy pillow beneath his ankle, moving it to the coffee table standing in front of the couch. He then let out a slight hiss as he turned and placed his injured ankle back on the pillow, resulting in a quick look of concern from his anxious brother.

 With a smile, Mikey patted the empty cushion on his left. Leo gave a tired grin back as he let himself fall off the inner edge of the couch’s arm, plopping down at Mikey’s side.

“ Thanks, little bro. “

“ No probs. “

Leo’s posture changed from chill and relaxed to alert and worried in a second as he switched back to “ doc mode “.

“ What were you thinking, Mikey? You know its sensitive. You gotta be more careful. “

The youngest’s smile faded as a look of guilt subtly washed over his face.

“ I’m fine… “ he mumbled as he began picking at the breaking seams of the couch’s stitching.

Those two little words not only annoyed Leonardo, but also caused him to switch to his worst mode in times like this:

LEADER MODE.

“ Eh- Eh- Eh. None of that- “ the oldest scolded, waving the same pointed finger as earlier, “ Don’t give me any of that. I gave you orders to take it easy. It’s only been a few days since you twisted it last week. Do you call THIS- “ Leo gestured to all of Mikey, “ ..taking it easy?? “

Mikey started to open his mouth, but the eldest continued.

“- Remember what Sensei tells you. You call this being a good steward of your body?? “

Mikey’s guilty expression morphed into one he never wore. One his brothers and Sensei rarely ever saw.

“.. When was the last time you ate. “ He spoke without blinking. His eyes were glazed over with a film of bitterness as his words burned into Leo like the defensive rays of the sun.

Silence.

 Yeah, not so talkative now, are you.. 

“.. I.. was busy. “ Leo whispered, as his whole body tensed.

“ - Oh COME ON,DUDE!! “ Mikey shouted, making Leo minisculely flinch, “ That’s bogus and you know it. It’s my job to do the dishes this week- I memorize the colors of everyone’s plates. Yours is always the black one with blue rims. You picked that one since you were a kid. I never have to wash it. It’s always all NEAT and CLEAN and stacked in the cupboard. “

Leo’s expression twisted as his guilt grew.

“ The only thing I’ve seen you take a bite out of this week was my bubblegum and jalapeno pizza. And you hacked it up immediately. “

“ Oh come on!! Did you even taste that thing??? “ Leo half-heartedly chuckled, hoping that adding a joke or insulting Mikey’s cooking would distract his youngest brother.

For once, Mikey wasn’t in the mood for games.

“ -STUFF IT IN YOUR CRUST, LEO. “ The youngest growled, “ You. Aren’t. Eating. Admit it! “

“ I’m just not hungry. “ Leo shrugged as he edged closer to the arm of the couch.

“ Admit it. “

“ I have too much to do- “ The eldest's eyes strayed from Mikey's.

“ ADMIT IT. “ Mikey over-emphasized every syllable.

Leo threw his hands up in the air as he yanked himself off the couch.

“ - OK SO WHAT???!!? I don’t eat sometimes, SO THE FRICK WHAT?? “

Mikey’s glare remained steadfast and unmoving as he peered into Leo’s constricted pupils.

“.. You call that being a good steward? “ Mikey spat.

Leo’s face fell, flashing from guilt, to shame, to stubbornness.

Silence swept over the Living Room once again. But this time it didn’t carry any peace or relaxation with it. A deep weight pressed down on the two brothers, almost as if they were sinking into the ocean’s depths. Neither spoke a word as they choked and drowned in the silence.

[ BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! ]

Leo’s movements froze as the whole lair was bathed in a bright, flashing red. Mikey’s eyes darted from his phone to Leo’s face. The youngest could feel his heartbeat begin to quicken as he saw nothing but terror and anxiety flood through his brother’s expression. 

The sensation of the frozen bag settled on Mikey’s ankle couldn’t even compare to the frigid crystals of realization growing in his heart.

The Emergency alarm continued to scream its horrible song, replacing the somber emptiness with a shrilling crescendo.

... No…

That's it for this chapter. :) The art piece took FOREVER to get right, but I'm very happy with how it turned out. :) This was my first FULL FLASHBACK chapter, so it was interesting figuring out some things like pre-tense or past-tense or present-tense.. But thanks to some help from @poetique823, I think it turned out great! :)

Thanks for your help, Poet!! :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

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