#I had wanted to post as soon as it was the 12 that was established but I fell asleep at like 12:15 here in my country sdjfksjf sowwy

[palskippah]

Hi! Here's my gift for the @mariosecretsanta, for @nerdstreak your oc Cerise!

I hope you like it! :D Also happy new year!! 🗣️🗣️

Here's the drawings used for the gif (btw you have to click on it for better quality pipipi)

[reidmania]

in the absence of you | s.reid

summary; to find out you're pregnant and then experience a miscarriage while spencer is in prison, is a lot, trying to figure out if you should tell him when he gets home is just as much.

warnings; fem reader, hurt x comfort, mainly hurt, a lot of angst, miscarriages, pregnancy, guilt, withholding information, post prison spencer, mentions cat, probably inaccurate medical information, messy timeline, relationship struggles, imma say 18+ because there is very strong mentions of sex, and bad sex experience, emotional deattachment, grief, guilt, reader strongly believes she did something wrong, spencer blames himself for her dettachment, insecurities, trust issues, established relationships, hopeful ending, (happy ending would be inaccurate bc theres nothing happy about this fic!) feeling alone, yeah man idk this is just sad.

an; um.. so this was suppose to be fic 5 but i wanted to post it sooner, and its BEARtober so i can actaully do whatever i want.. thank you, i know i posted fic one two hours ago.. but its technically day 2 bc its 12:30am.. im so sorry in advance. 4.7k... YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME!! if this will trigger you, please don’t read.

beartober masterlist

You remember the moment clearly: the world was grey, the air heavy with the scent of rain, when you stumbled upon the truth in a small, sterile bathroom. It had been two weeks since Spencer had been taken away, wrongfully convicted and trapped in a nightmare you couldn’t fathom. You had just returned from a visit, the echoes of his voice still dancing in your mind like a haunting melody. You stood there, staring at the little stick in your hand, the two pink lines appearing like a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded you. Your heart raced, a mixture of joy and fear spiralling within you. You were pregnant. Spencer’s child was growing inside you, a tiny miracle nestled in the shadows of despair.

In that moment, you could almost picture his face—the way his eyes would light up, a smile breaking across his face as he wrapped his arms around you. You imagined the joy of sharing this news, of planning a future together even in the midst of chaos. But as the excitement bubbled within you, a chill settled in your chest. Spencer was in prison, suffering through an ordeal that felt cruel and unjust. You couldn’t bring this news of a new life into the turmoil that enveloped you both. What would it mean for him to hear such news in a place where hope felt like a distant memory? No, you decided. You would wait. You would hold this secret close until he was home, until you could see the joy reflected in his eyes, not the shadows of despair.

Days turned into weeks, and each passing moment felt like a tightrope walk, balancing on the edge of your own joy and the weight of his suffering. You became adept at hiding your secret, slipping into a routine that felt increasingly fragile. You took prenatal vitamins in the morning, their presence a constant reminder of the life blossoming within you. You attended appointments alone, tracing your fingers over the growing bump that would soon signify so much.

But with every visit to Spencer, every moment shared behind that glass, you felt the joy dimming under the weight of your choice. You didn’t want to add to his pain; his world was already dark. You watched him struggle to hold onto hope, and you couldn’t bear the thought of placing another burden on his shoulders. You knew if you told him he would be happy, and then feel horrible because you were pregnant, and he wasn’t there, he deserved to hear it when he could process it. That was something else you worried about, the timing was horrible, not unwelcomed on your behalf but unfortunate. When Spencer got out he would need time to adjust, you would need time to adjust.

When you touched your belly, you whispered promises, vowing to keep this little one safe until he was free. But it wasn’t long before the joy turned to an ache, a sense of loneliness creeping in. You would lie in bed at night, tracing your fingers over your bump, feeling the small kicks and flutters, and wishing desperately that he could be there to experience it with you. The silence felt oppressive, filled with unspoken words and unshared dreams.

Then, just two weeks before Spencer came home, everything shattered. You found yourself crumpled on the bathroom floor, the world spinning around you as the pain hit like a tidal wave. You didn’t want to believe what was happening, didn’t want to accept that the life you had held onto so tightly was slipping away. The miscarriage was both a physical and emotional unravelling, a gut-wrenching reminder of how fragile hope can be.

You spent the following days in a fog, the echo of your loss drowning out everything else. Each moment felt surreal, like you were watching life unfold from behind a glass wall. You wanted to scream, to let the world know that you had lost something precious, but the fear of burdening Spencer kept you silent. You couldn’t tell anyone, nobody knew you were pregnant beforehand. You kept the joy away from the world until it could reach Spencer, and now it was gone. In the quiet of your apartment, you felt the walls closing in. The space that had once been filled with laughter and love now felt hollow, echoing only with your grief. You avoided places that reminded you of the joy you had once felt, the memories of what could have been cutting deep into your heart. You wandered through your days in a daze, wearing a mask of normalcy for the world to see. Friends reached out, concern etched on their faces as they noticed your distance. You offered polite smiles and reassurances, your heart aching at the thought of revealing your pain. They didn’t know what you had lost, and you didn’t want to pull them into your darkness.

At night, when the silence was deafening, you would curl up on the couch, clutching a pillow to your chest, tears streaming down your face. You replayed the moments you had spent with Spencer, the way his laughter would fill a room, how he would hold you close and make you feel safe. You missed him fiercely, but you also felt an overwhelming loneliness, the grief a reminder of everything you had kept hidden from him. You thought about telling him, about sharing the weight of your sorrow, but the thought made your chest tighten. 

Every time you looked at him when you visited, your heart twisted with guilt. He deserved to know, but you feared his reaction, the possibility of seeing that flicker of pain in his eyes. You wanted to protect him, but in doing so, you found yourself carrying this burden alone. You acted the best you could when you visited, but you knew he could tell you weren’t okay.

Two weeks have passed since Spencer’s release, but the warmth of his return hasn’t settled into your bones. Instead, it feels like a lingering chill, a shadow that stretches over your heart. How could you add to his pain when he had just returned to a world that felt foreign? He had faced horrors you could only imagine, and you didn’t want to push him deeper into the darkness. You stand in the kitchen, staring blankly at the dishes piled high in the sink, each one a reminder of how normalcy feels out of reach. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a golden hue across the room, but it does little to brighten the dark corners of your mind.

Spencer is home, yet he feels distant, a haunting echo of the man you once knew. You watch him move around the apartment, and while he wears a smile that is both familiar and foreign, his eyes reveal the weight of the trauma he carries. You want to comfort him, to wrap him in the warmth of your love, but the grief of your loss sits like a stone in your chest, making it hard to breathe. It’s been so easy to slip into the role of caretaker, to push your own feelings aside for the sake of his recovery and adjustment. The truth is suffocating.a secret you’ve kept locked away, tucked into the recesses of your heart. You want to scream it, to let the world know, but the fear of burdening him with your sorrow keeps your lips sealed.

Every time you meet his gaze, you feel the weight of your silence pressing down on you. Spencer is still adjusting, still fighting to find his place in a world that has changed around him. You can see the flickers of his old self—the gentle humour, the way his laughter dances in the air—but the shadows linger. You can’t shake the feeling that by holding back your truth, you’re pulling him deeper into the void. Spencer’s presence was a comfort, but the weight of your secret loomed like a dark cloud. You started to withdraw, spending long hours lost in thought, feeling like a ghost haunting your own life. In the two weeks Spencer had been home, you had sex once, a few nights after he got home– and honestly it was probably the worst sex you’ve ever had, not because of him, he did everything perfectly, you felt good, physically, he was gentle, and focused. Three months is a long time without sex, and physically it felt good, really good.

But the physical pleasure didn’t compare to the mental disturbance. You felt like the world was crushing you, there was so much guilt and disgust flowing through your veins because it felt so wrong. You kept it together and you didn’t blame him for not noticing, you kept your eyes closed throughout the entirety of it, too scared that if you let them open the tears would fall. He was focused on being gentle. It was messy, and fast, and you were almost thankful. You waited till Spencer fell asleep before you hid yourself away in the bathroom and spent hours crying. You didn’t wake him, you refused to. He deserved rest, good rest in the comfort of your shared bed. Anytime he tried to initiate more you tried, you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of his lips for a while but you couldn’t do it when the feeling bubbles in your chest again and you felt the struggle to breathe, not from the kiss but from the pure weight of your guilt.

You hardly slept, the one way to escape your burden taken away when your dreams of what your life could’ve been turned into nightmares of what you had lost. Most nights you’d lie still in Spencer’s arms, his body warm against yours, yet it provided no comfort, only reminding you of what you were keeping from him. You felt guilty, guilty that the ultrasound photos sat in the bottom of your handbag untouched since the day you lost the baby, you couldn’t look at them, it felt like torture. You felt like it was your fault, no matter how many times the doctor told you, it wasn’t, it was a thought you couldn’t shake. You felt like you were constantly battling the idea of telling Spencer, which would only put more on his shoulders, more that he didn’t need, but he deserved to know, you knew he would want to know.

You were pulling away, He noticed, of course, but he attributed it to his own struggles.

“Hey, you okay?” Spencer asks one evening, breaking the silence that has settled like a heavy fog between you. You look up from your coffee, the steam curling into the air like the thoughts you can’t articulate.

“Yeah, just tired,” you reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You wonder if he can see through it, if he senses the turmoil beneath the surface.

He nods, though uncertainty flashes across his face. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately. I know things have been rough, I- I know things are different- I’m different. I'm sorry, but I’m here..” The sincerity in his voice hits you hard. You want to believe that you can lean on him, that you can share the weight of your grief, but the thought of adding to his burden paralyses you. He’s already been through hell; how can you throw your pain into the mix? 

“It’s just… adjusting to everything,” you say, your voice wavering. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all that’s happened.”

Spencer steps closer, the warmth of his body radiating into the space between you. “I know. We will be okay.. Are we okay?.”

Your heart aches at the earnestness in his gaze. You want to reach out, to let him pull you into the light, but the chasm of your grief feels insurmountable. It feels silly trying to act like everythings fine, it would be useless to lie, the colour drained from your face and the emptiness in your eyes spoke words louder than a lied ‘im fine’ ever could, so you gave in to his knowledge. You nodded, “ We’re okay– I- I just need time,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. “I’ll be okay.” You move away towards the couch, he follows, sitting next to you as you bury yourself in the sofa.

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken words and unacknowledged pain. Spencer nods slowly, his expression one of resignation mixed with concern. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, the thoughts he’s too afraid to voice. As the days pass, the emotional distance between you only grows. You drift through your routines, performing the motions of daily life—cooking meals, doing laundry, going to work, avoiding the deeper conversations that tug at your heart. You want to talk about it, want to tell him how devastated you are, but every time you think of opening your mouth, the words stick in your throat. Each time he reaches out, trying to connect, you feel a pang of guilt. He deserves to be wrapped in the comfort of your love, not burdened by your sorrow. You keep telling yourself it’s better this way, that it’s noble to protect him, but deep down, you know it’s a lie. 

“Let’s watch something together,” he suggests, his tone light but laced with worry. You nod absentmindedly, your mind elsewhere. The sound of laughter from the show fills the room, but it feels hollow. You can’t shake the heaviness that clings to your heart.

“Do you remember the last movie we watched together?” Spencer asks, attempting to lighten the mood. “The one with the ridiculous plot twist?” He offers, shuffling his body to face you a little more, you continue picking at your nails, keeping your gaze on the tv, honestly hardly hearing his words

You force a chuckle, but it doesn’t reach your heart. You don’t remember, not in the slightest, maybe if you thought about anything besides the weight in your chest you would be able to, but everything was distant, you were distant. “Yeah, that was… something.”

He turns to face you, and you can see the concern in his eyes. “You’re not really here, are you?”

His words cut deep, and the truth behind them wraps around your throat like a vice. “I’m trying,” you manage, feeling the tears threaten to spill over.

“Just… talk to me,” he pleads, and there’s a desperation in his voice that makes your heart ache. “Is it too much? Baby, tell me what you’re thinking.” He shuffles closer. You tense.

And yet, the silence persists. The weight of your loss feels too heavy to share, like a storm cloud hanging over both of you. You can’t bear the thought of seeing the flicker of pain in his eyes, the guilt that would inevitably follow. You feared saying it aloud would make it too real, telling him would make it too real. He didn’t deserve that, not after the months he spent being put through unimaginable things. He was trying here, to make this as easy for you as possible, showing empathy in the time he needed it most. That plagued you with guilt you couldn’t shake because no matter how hard you tried to be present, your heart remained in pieces on the bathroom floor. 

“It's not you.” It came out quiet and if your sense of self awareness didn’t feel thousands of miles away you would’ve cringed. It wasn’t him, he was trying his best and dealing with stuff and turmoil you couldn’t even begin to imagine, you expected a change in him, that wasn’t the issue. Your head dropped as your fingers moved a little rougher, now picking at the skin around your nails, a horrible habit Spencer had helped you stop when you first started dating, you subconsciously picked it up again when he went to prison. 

He moved closer, if you looked up you would’ve seen his brows knitted in concern and a frown on his face as he reached out to depart your hands from one another, taking one on his own to stop your assault. “Then what is it?” He was pleading for an insight into the mess in your head, that was terrifying because you knew there was a similar mess in his own, for a completely different reason. You were both silently fighting emotions impossible to articulate. Spencer was slowly adjusting, slowly. It took time for him to even begin to talk about what had happened in his time locked up, you never pushed. He was trying to let you in, and you were trying to push him out, but you could see it in his eyes, he knew there was something, and you could push him away and try to handle this alone, but you didn’t want to be alone. 

You looked up at him, tears lining your eyes. You chewed at your lip before you let out a harsh breath, “I got my period.” Your voice broke, then the tears followed as a sob left your lips. Then your hands were reaching to cover your face as the tears continued, falling as if you hadn’t been crying everyday for the last month. Waking up to your period was maybe the worst feeling you had ever experienced, the reality washing over you again, and the sight of blood filling you with a memory you didn’t think you could ever forget. It was painful, so painful.

His eyes widened when you started sobbing, each sound leaving your lips causing his heart to weigh heavier as he moved closer to wrap his arms around you. He knew you, he knew you on your period. Sure you were more emotional than normal but not this emotional. His hands threaded through your hair as you buried your face in his chest, still covered by your hands. He didn’t want to admit that this was the closest he had felt to you since his release. “Is that what's wrong, sweet girl? Are you in pain?” He asked, and you shook your head as sobs ripped from your throat followed by wet hiccups. You were sure there were probably wet stains on his shirt despite the fact your hands were in the way, your tears would not stop, you couldn’t stop them, you couldn’t carry this alone. Not anymore.

It was muffled by your hands and his t-shirt, hardly coherent through your sobs, “I was pregnant,” You felt him stiffen slightly and you knew he heard it, but once the truth was in the air, once the words left your lips, the others followed almost instantly. “I was pregnant and I lost it – I killed our baby.” It was all broken words, the ugliest side of your guilt travelling through in your words.

He was quiet. That was the worst part. You knew he wasn’t mad, actually you didn’t know that, deep down maybe, but right now you truly believed he could have any sort of reaction, even the most unlike him. Right now your brain was absent of any ability to process what you were doing. Your chest was so tight it hurt and you were genuinely struggling to breathe.

When he heard your slight hyperventilating against his chest he seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in, he pulled back to look at your face, his hands moving to cup your cheeks to pull you to look at him, the sight was heartbreaking. “Breathe, Please. Deep breaths” He guided, his voice gentle but you could see emotion in his eyes, something less gentle, not so much anger, maybe hurt, maybe confusion, maybe guilt. You couldn’t see well enough through your tears to figure it out.

You listened, the air you breathed in deeply was so cold it made your throat burn, it was just as cold when you breathed it back out, then again. “I’m sorry,” You whispered, the tears were still falling, you didn’t bother trying to stop them anymore. It was useless. 

“That’s a lot–” He shook his head, “--You were pregnant?” It was the same whisper as yours, as if he was trying to make sure he properly understood what had left your lips, as if this was a reality he didn’t want to be. He was confused, of course he was. 

You frowned as you looked up at him, you knew he would want to know everything, and as much as you knew he deserved that, explaining and reliving it felt like a punishment, as if you needed more of that. “Spencer” it was pleading. You were pleading with him not to dig, not to ask, selfishly so, because you knew he deserved everything, that he needed to hear it just as much as you needed to not talk about it.

He frowned, his thumb reaching to brush tears away from your cheeks, the movement useless because the tears kept falling, “I know it hurts. Can you tell me when?” he asked, he was being so gentle, it only made the guilt in your chest burn more, his kindness was cruel because you didn’t deserve it, not in your eyes.

You hiccuped as you looked down, he lifted your face a little more, encouraging you to look back at him, you did. You “Um– A month after- you uh” You trailed off, a month after his life was ruined and he was wrongfully convicted, he knew what you meant, you could see it in the way his eyebrows furrowed further. He was quiet, the silence thick with so many questions and needed explanations, he needed to know what happened, he needed to be walked through it because he wasn’t there. You knew the guilt was probably eating at him for that, you partly wished you hadn’t mentioned it, that you had been more sensible before blurting it out. 

“How far along were you?” He asked, another question tumbling out so gently. He was trying to be careful, despite his hundreds of questions. There was no backing out now, he deserved to know everything just as much as you deserved to be able to tell him everything. 

You hiccuped as you answered, “Eight and a half weeks.” 

His eyes closed as a harsh breath left his lips, his hands dropped from your face to drag along his own. You weren’t sure what he was feeling, you weren’t sure what you were feeling. He did the maths in his head to figure out when you miscarried, he didn’t want to make you answer it. His hands dropped from his face to his lap as he looked back at you, then you saw tears in his eyes, ones that mirrored your own. “Did you find out what happened?” He asked, voice strained.

You dropped your head and looked down at your hands, “Genetic abnormalities” you whispered. Saying more seemed impossible as your throat felt like it was closing.

You remembered the appointment after like a scene on repeat. There were so many tears, so many ‘it's not your fault, there's nothing you could’ve done' and even more ‘Do you want me to call somebody?’ from the doctor, the question would only make your tears harsher, because there was nobody to call. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracked with emotion as he searched your eyes. He wasn’t angry, he was hurt, processing, overwhelmed, anything but angry with you. He wanted to know, he wanted to know everything, especially something like this. 

Your head dropped further as you whispered and ‘im sorry’ which made him shake his head, and remind you that he asked you why you didn’t tell him, he wanted to know what was going on in your head, he wanted to know, he wanted you to let him in, to let him grieve this loss with you. He wanted to know what it was that made you feel like this was something you had to carry alone. 

“You’ve been through – You’re going through so much” You mumbled out, every word seemed harder to get out, but there was no out of this conversation, no running or hiding from the truth, from him. “I didn’t– I didn’t want you to have to deal with this as well.”

His frown deepened, and you swore your heart broke in half when a sound so sad left his lips, as if what you said physically wounded him. “You-” He let out a harsh breath, “That's not fair.” He whispered, and you knew he was right. You withheld information he deserved to know, that could affect him just as much as it did you, and he understood your intentions, and your fears but that didn’t make it any easier to process. He wasn’t mad, he was hurt, maybe a little bit mad, but not so much with you, with everything else. “You don’t– Angel, you can’t choose that for me. This– this is just as much on me to deal with as it is for you. I want to deal with this with you.” 

“I know.” You were silent after that, because the only words you could think of was ‘I’m sorry’ and you knew he didn’t want that. You knew he didn’t want you to be sorry, he wanted you to trust him to let him in, to not treat him like he was fragile. He wanted you to have faith in him, to be able to rely on him, he wanted to be there. He hated that he hadn’t been there. He was right, it wasn’t your job to dictate what he could and couldn’t handle, and while maybe with the right intentions, you were taking away such an important part of your relationship from him, you were hiding something so important to you, and you knew it was just as important to him.

Maybe I’m sorry was all you could think of, because that's all you were. So sorry. Sorry that you hid it from him, sorry that you let him down, sorry that you lost the baby. You were so filled with guilt and grief it was consuming you. No matter how many times you were told it wasn’t your fault, the wonder of what if took up too much space in your mind, what if you just did one thing differently, it was useless, because it was out of your control, that felt worse. That there was nothing you could have done to change it. Spencer was just as silent as you were. The weight of what happened caused a crack neither of you wanted there, you didn’t know how to fix it, you didn’t know how to let him into the mind you didn’t even want to be in. 

“I love you” He muttered. 

The sob followed. You didn’t realise how much he was holding back emotion till this moment. Till he leant forward to wrap his arms around you and his head buried into the crook of your neck, seeking your comfort just as much as you seeked his. You shuffled closer and wrapped your arms around his, easing into his touch. “It's not your fault.” He spoke through his sobs, His hand trailed up to cup the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer, at his words your mind swirled, hearing it from him made you think about it, it didn’t shake the guilt, but it softened it, your sob followed his.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, crying in the comfort of one another, at some point you had moved so you were on his lap, his arms around you like he needed it to breathe. Telling him didn’t ease the grief you were carrying, you didn’t think anything would, but you were feeling it with him, and you weren’t alone in it. There were many more conversations to be had about it, probably hundreds of more apologies between the two of you, probably a lot more crying and days just like this, tangled in shared sadness and maybe that wouldn’t fix what you were feeling, ore take away the grief and maybe it would be just like this for a while.

But you trusted him, and you trusted that you would be okay, that your relationship would be okay. 

[mxtxfanatic]

While flipping through mdzs to verify some stray thoughts of mine, I happened to fall into a translation discrepancy that I feel really, really emphasizes how important it is to have a proper grasp on the language you are translating before translating for a public audience.

Now before we get too deep into this, I want to reiterate that I am someone who does not understand Mandarin in any form but has been reading translations (both by humans and machines) for a few years now. However, because I have been reading translations that tend to follow the Mandarin more closely in grammar and because I haven't shied away from reading machine-made or bad human translations, I have noticed some places where mistranslations from Mandarin to English are common: pronouns, verb-subject matching, negatives, prepositions, and conjunctions. For this post, we will be focusing on the latter two.

In the lead-up to the Wen invasion of Lotus Pier, we are given a scene where Madam Yu whips Wei Wuxian, and in this scene, we are given a glimpse as to Madam Yu's average punishments towards the young ward.

While Madam Yu always pelted him with hostile words, she’d never really hit him hard before—two or three lashes at most, or being made to kneel or confined indoors, and it never took Jiang Fengmian long to release him from that.

—Vol. 3, Chapt. 12: Sandu: The Three Poisons, 7seas

In the past, although Madam Yu had always come at him with harsh words, she had never truly been cruel to him. The most that he’d been through were two or three strikes and being grounded. He’d also be let out by Jiang FengMian soon later.

—Chapt. 57: Poisons, exr

Reading these back-to-back, it should be very clear that though the same section is being translated from the same exact source, these translations do not say the same thing. The official stresses that Madam Yu had never hit Wei Wuxian "that hard" before, as well as saying that his punishments were a few lashes OR being made to kneel OR being confined, three separate punishments never taken together according to this diction. The exr translation, however, states that Madam Yu had "never truly been cruel to him" (emphasis mine) and that him being whipped was in addition to being confined. The emphasis on the strength of her lashings is absent, but an emphasis on the intent behind her actions—that she never meant to be honestly cruel to her ward—is established in its stead. (While this section as translated by exr does not mention kneeling, later scenes reflecting on Wei Wuxian's childhood in Lotus Pier do.)

Both of these translations... are wrong.

If we give exr the benefit of the doubt by virtue of being the original completed English translation of mdzs, then the official 7seas release should automatically raise red flags for the ways it seems to directly contradict the narrative that has existed for a few years before the novel was licensed. It doesn't help that the official has been riddled with many mistranslations and omissions from the very first volume, lowering any credibility it would otherwise have to stand on. But if we were to examine the rest of the exr translation, then the emphasis on Madam Yu's intent also rings false given the fact that we are told over and over again in this same translation that 1) Madam Yu is, in fact, unnecessarily, illogically, and erratically mean-spirited and cruel, and 2) Wei Wuxian knows this even at this time in his life (shoutout to the Lotus Pod Seeds extra) and understands her actions as targeted cruelty. What does the actual text say, then?

Although Madam Yu always spoke ill of him before, her hand had never been this viciously cruel. At most, she whipped him two or three times and ordered him to kneel down and be confined to his room, and he would be released by Jiang Fengmian sometime later.

—@jiangwanyinscatmom (emphasis mine)

Madam Yu has never been "as cruel" as in that moment when whipping Wei Wuxian, because normally she only whips him 2-3 times. She would whip him a few times and send him to the ancestral hall to kneel and be in confinement, which matches up to the memories that Wei Wuxian reflects on in other parts of the novel. This translation gets rid of the character inconsistencies that the other two translations create. So how did we get here? Remember how I pointed out those common Mandarin-to-English translation mistakes? Well, both the exr and 7seas translations fall into the trap of confusing conjunctions and prepositions. That's how we get a list of punishments rather than an order of events for a singular punishment type. That's how we get "not truly cruel" instead of "not as cruel." That's how we get these sections contradicting what we know about Madam Yu's personality and behavior from the rest of the novel through those two translations. Unfortunately, both translation teams just happened to flub in the same area in slightly different ways, and while I'm willing to give a multi-lingual grade-school student translating in their spare time the benefit of the doubt, a paid translator with a translation team hired by a professional publishing house should have better quality control than a spare-time hobbyist.

Also, just in case anyone wants more proof on what mxtx meant for us to take away about Madam Yu's treatment of Wei Wuxian from this scene, it was also apparently so important to mxtx for readers to know that Madam Yu was truly cruel to Wei Wuxian during his childhood that the act of her routinely whipping him whenever he was in her presence was something that was added into the revised mdzs. It was not in the original unedited version of the novel.

In the past, although Lady Yu always insulted or patronized him, she never laid a hand on him. At worst, she’d make him kneel for prolonged periods of time, but he’d always get bailed out by Jiang FengMian after a while.

—Chapt. 57. Act 12: Sandu/Three Poisons, Part 2, qinghe-nie

[allmonstersxarehuman]

Such A Brat

Prompt: 10 Don’t be stubborn

Prompt: 12 Say that Again

From this prompt list that is originally posted by @seungfl0wer

MDNI! Adult content (WARNINGS UNDER LINE)

A/N: Very rusty on my smut writing skills and writing skills in general. I hope you like it. For some reason it deleted your message when I was working on it. 😩🥺🥺 @seungfl0wer

Warnings: MDNI! Smut, unprotected sex (just don’t), established relationship, (reader is called princess, baby, brat, good girl and pup), spanking, swearing just a little, one pussy slap, one gentle throat squeeze, I think that’s it.

A small sound of disapproval escaped when you felt the warm morning sun lightly kiss your face, you tried to ignore it but when the warmth became to much you let out a whine this time out annoyance. You thought turning away from the window would help but how wrong you were because when you turned over you were soon being pestered by Seungmin; he let out small laughs as he poked your cheeks, nose and lightly gave you a soft loving flick on the forehead. The action made you pout and let out a humph, your eyes continued to stay closed as you retaliated by pinching his bare stomach then his nipple. He let out a surprised yelp, the noice causing you to let a giggle as your eyes started to open just a tad; only to be met with him giving you a dirty look. One of the things you loved the most when it came to being in a relationship with Kim Seungmin is it just worked, you both are mischievous though you weren’t as obvious as him; you both are aware when a joke or comment is or has crossed the line.

“Mm, let me sleep.” You hummed closing your eyes and removing the hand that had rested on his upper abdomen, only for him to grab it again before wrapping an arm under you to pull you on top of him. “Min!!” You complained as you lay your head on his bare chest, legs straddled over his torso but made no effort in moving. Resting his hands comfortably on your backside pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Come on bubs, we’ve got to get up remember we told the guys that we’d go camping with them one last time before the weather starts to change. You know how Lee Know hyung gets when people are late.” He said before giving your bum a light squeeze and then a smack that wasn’t hard but definitely wasn’t soft. The action made you sit up pouting at him. “Technically you said you would, my name was never mentioned.” You smirked.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, before arching his brow. “Don’t be stubborn. Let’s get up and get washed up, since we didn’t do that last night.” He stated as he sat up in bed and landed another smack to your right ass cheek before sliding you off him as he stood up. You bit your lip as you watched him stretch admiring ever muscle that showed up as he did. “The only reason we didn’t get cleaned up last night is because you were way to tipsy to make it further then this bed.” You finally removed yourself from where you had been seated on the bed, patting his chest a few times when you walked past and towards the bathroom.

Then an idea hit you it’s been a bit since you riled him up a bit. “Fine I’ll get cleaned up but I was really hoping you would take a shower with me, but you are such a prude and want to be a bore that I guess I’ll just take one myself and help myself out since you are in such a hurry to meet up with the boys.” You said to him over your shoulder as you took off his shirt that you had put on followed by shimming out of your underwear, and turning on the shower, checking the temperature before stepping under the warm water. You knew it wouldn’t take long until Seungmin to follow you, he couldn’t help but lick his lips as he watched your little show. Stepping behind you he soon had a tight grip on your hip then pressing you against the shower wall, you shivered slightly as the cold tile wall pressed against your already sensitive nipples. “You want to say that again? I know what you are doing baby, being a brat isn’t going to get you anywhere; what happens to brats sweetheart especially brats that touch themselves without permission?” He growled in your ear before backing up and telling you to bend over, you wanted to hit him with a smart remark but before you could even get a word out a hard slap was given to your ass; a small warning to do as you are told and not back talk him. You let out a small yelp as you answered his question. “The don’t get to cum until they get permission.” Seungmin smirked loving how obedient you could be sometimes especially when you were becoming desperate. He sat on the bench that was in the shower his cock becoming stiff the mushroom head red and angry. “Spread your cheeks for me baby let me see your pretty pussy.” His words made you bite your lip as you clenched around nothing, you wanted to be filled so badly not caring if it was his fingers, tongue or his thick cock.

You did exactly what he asked of you feeling so desperate that you would anything. Seungmin let out a hum of satisfaction taking both of his big veiny hands he rubbing them up and down the back of your legs. “Good girl. To bad you never remember that before you get mouthy. First you didn’t want to get up, then you call me boring; now here you are bending over like a dog in heat.” He emphasized the last part of his sentence as he gave a small slap to your dampening pussy. “Why do insist on getting my attention by being a brat? Don’t I treat you right princess? Do I neglect you so much that you have to act up to get my attention?” You whimpered and nodded. “Y-you do Minnie, you treat me very good. I’m sorry, please I’ll be a good girl.” His fingers played with your folds then let his thumb play with your tight hole never letting it push inside your greedy pussy. You whimpered trying miserably at grinding against his thumb trying to get some sort of relief.

Seungmin let out a breathy laugh, completely removing his fingers from you. “So desperate.” You opened your mouth to speak, you were so distracted that you hadn’t realized Seungmin stood up until his cock was completely seethed deep in your warm and wet pussy causing a loud moan to escape your lips at the sudden feeling of being stuffed full. You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, he pulled you up so your back was flush against his chest his long fingers creeping up to your throat giving a light squeeze. He slowly pulled out of you only to ram himself back inside of his, letting go of your throat he bent over again watching his cock disappear inside of you. “So tight but your taking me so well, damn you were made just for me.” He moaned landing a slap to your ass. “So deep.” You moaned clawing at the tiled wall of the shower desperate to find something stable to cling on too. The lewd sound of wet skin on skin filled the bathroom as his thrusts became more faster hitting your gummy center that made you see stars as well made you salivate along it. “That’s it baby.” He groaned holding two fingers up to your mouth, you knew exactly what to do, you opened your mouth and sucked on the digits in front of you, once he was satisfied you felt his arm reaching around to massage your swollen clit with his two of his fingers. “I’m so close. Can I cum? Please Seungmin. I promise I’ll be so good for you.” You whimpered your voice becoming scratchy due to you loudly moaning. “Hold on just a little longer baby, you are doing so good for me.” Seungmin let out a growl as his thrusts became more erratic and less precise. You gripped onto the his arm that was wrapped in front of you desperately grinding against his fingers pussy clenching around his cock that continued to hit the right spot. He threw his head back feeling you clench around him. “Fuck princess you are so good for me. Cum for me baby.” Once he finished his sentence you let go your body shaking your mouth falling open in a silent scream of euphoria. Seungmin was not far behind, giving a few more deep thrusts he emptied his hot load inside of you. Not to long after he finished he slowly pulled out of you, a whimper escaping your lips from being overstimulated. You stood up straight before turning to look at him, both of you wearing goofy smiles. “You know if you just wanted to be fucked all you had to do was say so.” He smirked leaning down finally pressing his lips to yours. Pulling back you let out a soft laugh, I know but this is way more fun. Seungmin rolled his eyes giving you another kiss. “Come on pup. Let’s get cleaned up and get things ready to got.” He said grabbing the body wash. You gave him a teasing pout, he smirked. “Yes we are still going, we promised the guys.” You let out a huff causing your boyfriend to laugh “okay how about this, we’ll get ice cream on the way there. How’s that sound?” You smiled and nodded giving him a light peck. “You are going to be the death of me.” He shook his head a playful smirk on his face.

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

12/25/87

Prompt Day 8: Gift | Word Count: 613 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Older Steddie, Established Relationship, Reminiscing

It might have looked like it was wrapped by hands that were all thumbs, but at least it was covered, Eddie thinks, looking down at the photo in his hand. That was a long, long time ago. And he likes to think he's gotten at least a little bit better at wrapping gifts since this picture was taken.

He might be fooling himself, though. Steve wraps almost all the gifts they give these days, and there's definitely a reason for that.

He glances at the timestamp in the corner: 12/25/87.

Decades fly by faster than you'd ever expect them to, that's for damn sure. 

Eddie flips to the next one in the stack of photos, and it's just wrapping paper all over the floor from the same Christmas. They were just kids back then. Living in their first apartment, fresh out of Hawkins, probably working four or five jobs between them. They did that a lot in those early years. Passing ships in the night, barely seeing one another.

That usually meant their ends would always meet, though, even if barely at times, and they were together. Even if not exactly in the same room most of the time.

Eddie remembers how happy he was that he could afford to buy gifts for Steve that year, picked out with only a little help from Robin.

"Do you remember this Christmas?" Eddie asks, flashing the photo in Steve's direction. 

Steve pulls his reading glasses up from the chain around his neck. He smiles, "That's the year the heater went out."

Eddie had forgotten about that. Steve banging on the radiators, like he was CC Bloom. A few years later, when they finally watched Beaches at Robin's bequest, which still, fuck her for that, because it made him cry, but as soon as the clanging on the radiators scene happened, Steve looked right at him. A familiar scene thrust right to the forefront of their minds: Steve, wrench in hand, banging with gusto.

He didn't accomplish anything other than annoying the neighbors, but that's okay. It's a good memory, of years gone by. The heat might have never come on, but bundling up was a much more productive endeavor, anyway. 

That Christmas, with no heat to speak of, but presents under the tree, they'd been happy. The two of them, in layers upon layers of clothes, curled up together on that old broke down couch.

They were happy then, and they're happy now. 

They've seen relationships crumble, break, bend, and they've somehow kept on an even keel together. Growing at the same pace, in the same direction. It's luck. A miracle.

Eddie knows that this thing between them could have ended in a million different ways if things had only gone a little differently, here or there. He doesn't think they are destined, or fated. He doesn't think they are soulmates.

But those relationship-ending events never happened, because they worked together to make sure they never would. They wanted to stay together, so here they are.

And Eddie will always be grateful that it all worked out. He nearly died, bitten and bleeding, but he didn't. He was given the gift of more time.

Steve had that wreck ten years later, and the timeline could have diverged again right there. But it didn't. And they were ahead of the curve. They already knew how to recover in each other's presence, how to mend all the broken pieces into something so good that Eddie can hardly stand it at times.

It's been a gift.

The gift of a life together, a full happy existence, with Steve.

And it's the best gift he's ever gotten.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🎁

Notes: The Beaches soundtrack still slaps. I said what I said. I definitely wore out that cassette as a kid. It's right up there with the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for me.

[rumade]

A post about birth

I had a baby on Wednesday early in the morning (it's Sunday evening right now), and a couple of people have asked what labour and delivery was like for me, if I have any tips etc, so I thought I'd make a post about it. TW for all the things you might think of with regards to birth: medical stuff, vomit, diarrhoea, blood etc.

The raw facts: I delivered vaginally, in the bath in hospital, with pain relief in the form of Pethidine, Codeine, gas & air (Entonox), and a TENs machine. No true induction, but two membrane sweeps with prostaglandin gel. From onset of true labour (regular contractions), to delivery, was about 9 hours, which is pretty fast for a first timer.

Membrane sweep: This is when a midwife assesses your cervix, and if possible, inserts a finger with prostaglandin hormone gel and moves things around. My first one was when I was 2cm dilated at 39 weeks, and it was UNCOMFORTABLE. I would say a similar cramp feeling to having an IUD inserted, with less of a pinching feeling. Unlike IUD pain, this ends when they take their finger away. Afterwards I had blood and mucus for about 36 hours. I had a second sweep at 40 weeks at 10:30, just under 12 hours before I went into labour.

Early labour: I HATED EARLY LABOUR. I'd been working on this quilt and said that I would have the baby as soon as I finished it, and in some act of dark magic, pretty much as soon as I finished sewing on the label, I went into labour. Rough time 9:30pm Tuesday night. Early labour for me started with lower back pain, similar to the kind I get on my period. I then had diarrhoea and vomiting in tandem, so was sat on the toilet holding a bucket and puking into it. I'd just had some fancy rhubarb and raspberry leaf tea, so it came out a pretty pink colour!

When I could, I did hip circles and other moves sat on my yoga ball, which I think helped a lot. Eventually, we cracked out the TENs machine, and my husband stuck it to my back. When a contraction came on, I'd press the boost button, while also trying to press the timer button on my phone to time contractions. I phoned the hospital a few times, got told to take paracetamol, puked up the paracetamol, got the shakes from puking. My contractions at this time were ranging from 30 seconds to 1 minute, and apart from the period following puking, when I would shake and they'd go haywire, they were pretty consistent. Every 7 minutes apart, then 6 minutes, down to 4 minutes, and getting painful enough that I couldn't handle the twin tasks of activating TENs boost and tapping the contraction timer app (2 buttons were beyond me).

I phoned the hospital and they said it sounded like I was in established labour. We grabbed my hospital suitcase, my backpack with skincare, laptop, and a few other bits in, secured a taxi through an app. I was contracting strongly and couldn't walk when they happened, so was holding onto our fence in the light rain, waiting for the taxi. When it came, it was about 2:30am. The streets were clear but the ride felt like it took forever and the taxi driver looked very tense. We arrived at 2:49am. I got out, immediately had a contraction and held on tight to a plant pot outside the hospital. The porters held the lift for me and we got up to the 7th floor, where I had another contraction right outside the door of my room. These ones felt PAINFUL. Very much in my back.

We got in the room and I stayed in my nightdress (didn't want to change into a hospital gown). Cervical assessment was 5cm at 3:15am. I asked for Pethidine. This is an opiate that they inject into you. Firstly, they wanted to get a cannula into my hand- I had an infection called Group B Strep and they wanted to make sure they could get antibiotics into me. Until the painkiller took effect, I tried to manage pain with a spikey massage ball, alternately digging it into my thigh and smashing myself on the side of the head with it. It helped. The team offered me gas and air, which I declared to be "shit". I think I was expecting to get high and have fun with it, but it barely felt like it did anything.

The Pethidine took the edge off, but made me drowsy. It allowed me to handle the feeling in my lower back, and the team gave me some oral codeine alongside it. It's worth knowing that they won't give you these close to the end of labour because it can make baby drowsy and hard to assess. At this point I could kinda talk in a drowsy way and I managed to put on music, including a Nujabes playlist. I then said "I'm not cool enough to give birth to hip hop" and swapped it out for some other lofi and a study strings playlist. The lower back pain was still intense and I was stick of being vibrated by the TENs machine, so I asked them to run a bath.

2nd stage labour: This other sensation had started, and I didn't know it at the time, but this was the start of the actual delivery. It didn't actually hurt, but instead felt like I was being squeezed by a huge snake. When these surges happened, they took my breath away, and I struggled to follow the "down breathing" pattern that I'd learnt. I think at this point I asked for an epidural. The midwife, somewhat sternly, said "you need to tell us what you're feeling. Does it feel like you need a big poo?" which really annoyed me, because it didn't feel anything like I was needing a big poo. Maybe I just eat more fibre than 90% of the population, because I shit with the effortless nature of a premium racehorse. This felt like my body was being crushed, but not in a painful way- the back pain between these surges was still awful though.

I asked to get in the bath. They told me I couldn't have an epidural if I was in the bath. I said "ah, I don't want to waste the water", and got in the bath (~4:45am). The intense surges were getting closer together now and I was really struggling to breathe, so I made use of the gas and air to try and remind myself to breathe out through my mouth. Midwife managed to do a cervical assessment (I'm not sure how because I was on my hands and knees but I think I managed to briefly flip over for her), and told me I was fully dilated.

At this point, it started to feel like I had a cannonball inside me that was being dragged out by an electromagnet that was being turned on and off. A friend had told me that for her it felt like she could really feel her baby's head engaging and moving down, and I realised this was what I was feeling too. I stayed on my knees, semi upright with one hand on the side of the bath and the other gripping the Entonox tube. I told everyone I could feel that he was coming.

The thing about pushes is... well, they always say "you'll have the overwhelming urge to push". I'm not sure that urge is the right word here. Like I have a lot of urges throughout the day, but none of them have ever felt like this. This was something my body was doing whether I liked it or not, I couldn't even really tell if I had any conscious control of anything. A surge would come, and I guess I was pushing along with it, but it didn't really feel like I was baring down until his head was truly in position.

Ring of fire: right when the baby's head is at the gateway of coming out of you, you get a sensation that they call the "ring of fire". This is your cervix fully opening. I don't remember this actually hurting as much as I was prepared for it to, but I followed advice from a youtube video and made little outbreaths, like "you're blowing out the candles on your baby's birthday cake". And when it had subsided a little, I began to actually push in earnest. My waters finally popped at this point, so don't expect yours to necessary go in the supermarket, Hollywood style. When your baby is RIGHT THERE, you can't deny it, but there's this weird space in between the surges where you feel so lucid, before one grips you again. I got REALLY annoyed right there because the midwife unhooked my bra in preparation for skin to skin. I think I snapped at her "what are you doing?! Get off my bra!" My husband describes it as "it was like you were talking to a boy you don't like."

You're not going to deliver baby's head in one push. It will hover there, kind of pulsing in and out with each surge until it eventually breaks through. You have to lean into this pain and pant and breath. When the head finally breaks through, there's another lucid pause, and it's the weirdest liminal space in the world. Then there's one more push that feels like your insides are unfurling like a huge flower, and then you look over and the man you love is sobbing his eyes out, you realise "Concerning Hobbits" is playing, and the midwife is telling you to gently turn over and somehow lift your leg over the cord so they can easily lift baby away. And this impossibly huge, blue creature gets plonked into your arms in a towel.

Then I got stabbed in the leg with an injection to help deliver the placenta. That bit didn't hurt at all. I asked them to save it so I could get a little biology lecture after (which was great). Watched a lot of blood, and what looked like cud (I am guessing it came out of my arse), pooled in the bath as the water drained. Somehow stood up and got plopped on the bed for stitches. Stitches were horrible. 2nd degree tear (butthole fine, perineum in peril). They put a lubed up finger up my bum to check. That was nice.

So anyway, that's how I gave birth. Sorry this is long. I don't have the energy to edit because I just had a baby.

My biggest advice to anyone who is planning to give birth, is that you need to lean into the pain. This is also true for breastfeeding, because at the start it's quite painful. That pain is going to get you your baby. Some people are able to recontextualise it as something other than pain, but I recognised it as pain, some of which my body had felt before (the lower back, the period cramp sensations), and some of which it hadn't (the cervix stretching).

Apart from that, look up videos of natural delivery. Actually I felt watching a couple of episodes of "I didn't know I was pregnant" a bit helpful, because if those women could deliver without any pain relief or knowledge of what was happening, so could I. You have to remember that billions of people have given birth, successfully, without misery or dying. And it's possible for you too.

Birth and pregnancy prep. Get as fit as you can the year before you get pregnant. You will need powerful arms for dragging yourself around during labour and for holding your baby. Eat properly through pregnancy, and walk a lot. In your final 4 weeks, eat dates every day if you can afford to- they are apparently clinically proven to help open up the cervix. I also ate pineapple. Yoga ball is good for opening the hips and working baby into a good position.

Lastly; the afternoon before I went into labour, I watched Big Trouble in Little China. You should watch that. It's hilarious.

[alicerosejensen]

Find me

Warning: mention of blood, violence (physical and psychological), mention of viruses, parasites, zombies; kidnapping; the reader has a slight anemia; Fem/reader; established relationship with Leon.

Synopsis: You could have a quiet wedding and a good life with the person you love most in the world. Leon was ready to protect you to the death from his enemies and viruses but… it seems that someone is also interested in you. And the price for life will be very high.

A/N: The idea from this post that I wrote about quite a long time ago. "Together forever" I'm not very good at writing (apparently the Yandere theme is not mine, no matter how much I like it). So I'm going to try this plot. I don't know how many parts there will be, but if everything goes well, then probably a lot (maybe 10-12 or so). I hope someone likes it because I have serious notes on this work in my notebook, as if these are sketches for the 9th part of the resident).

Tags will be added to the following parts. I was very much inspired by the remaster and Haunting ground when I was taking notes. After all, both games were made by Capcom.

Feedback is welcome (but no insults!)

Sometimes the worst horror happens in the name of love. It's not the worst plot for books, films or paintings that are more than a hundred years old and it's impossible not to admit that sometimes we want to be loved until our death.

And maybe after it.

The words sound soft, with a slight taste of regret, as if somewhere between the letters there is a treacherous "I'm sorry". But in fact it was so predictable. Leon hugs you too tightly, experiencing an inexhaustible sense of guilt, because he promised to decide together where you will spend your honeymoon, which is unlikely to last exactly a month, he promised to watch a movie with you that you have been planning for a long time and… and everything went to hell.

Leon nuzzles your cheek and devoutly kisses you gently, leaving a wet trail with his eyes closed. Another sign of his eternal love, his lips are imprinted on the bridge of your nose, making you smile from the slight tickle caused by his stubble. He had no power over not being called to work for at least another week, but the government is not interested in the personal life of his best agent. And yet you enjoy the way he puts his arm around your waist, holding you as tightly as he can.

"Okay, Mr. Kennedy," you joke kindly, inhaling the almost faded scent of his cologne. "I forgive you, once again. Run to save the world" You smile looking into his crystal blue eyes filled with sadness and longing.

"I promise that I will ask the authorities for a good vacation," Leon swears very sensually, continuing to hold you tightly in his hands and look with those puppy eyes from which the soul is torn apart and kisses again this time on the forehead, "If necessary, I will harness Ingrit and no one will bother us. We'll plan everything the way you want, even if it's a tour of all the castles in Europe"

You laugh sincerely, removing the bangs from his face, hoping to stretch the moment of intimacy with him longer. It was so warm and safe next to him that you snuggled up to his chest and he gently cradled you in his arms like a child.

"Don't do anything stupid in my absence"

"I still need to do an exhibition and maybe I'll finally clean up the bookcase," you lie knowing full well that the books will still lie randomly on the shelves and you won't even touch them. Actually, your work was the only thing that could save you from the all-consuming longing for Leon.

"Be careful, okay?" with some hidden fear, he asks, reluctantly releasing you from the ring of embraces. "I'll call as soon as I get a free minute and I'll really be back soon"

Leon is already out on the street and you follow him with a sad look, noticing some dark car to the side. Rightly deciding that they came for him, you lower your head, sighing heavily and literally taken aback when Leon's lips abruptly cover yours with a demanding and somewhat rude kiss that you forget how to breathe. At some point you try to seize the initiative, but strong hands push you against the wall and you hit the back of your head a little painfully, allowing him to dominate. As always.

"I would eat you right here," Leon said sarcastically and quietly stroking your hips, "But I really have to go."

And you silently bite your lower lip while watching him move away from you and get on his bike.

Well, that cool car wasn't for him, but this thought quickly leaves your head and in the end, tired of standing on the street, you just go back into the house, closing the door, grabbing the phone and immediately sending him an impatient "I miss you already." However, this does not prevent you from also ordering food with home delivery and watching some movie to pass the evening that was hopelessly spoiled.

The evening really became disgusting, neither delicious food saved him, nor a good movie will save him.

"Complete shit" a quiet curse came off your lips when you looked at the phone screen for the hundredth time in the evening and endlessly reread Leon's last message "My love…" which seems to have been imbued with such despair that tears came to your eyes. He was like a big kid who couldn't live a day without you and besides, only with you his sleep was like a more or less healthy one. You were his only light and he wanted that light to stay with him forever. Well, you could send him a hundred more messages, but it's unlikely that he will have the opportunity to read them in the next few hours or even days. So with bitterness, you just turned off the TV and went to the bathroom to get ready for an earlier than usual sleep.

Hot water pleasantly calmed and warmed the skin flowing down the body. You spent 15 minutes in the shower, brushing your teeth and doing all the usual and favorite cosmetic procedures, smeared your body with a lotion with a pleasant floral scent, waiting for it to soak into pale skin. The mood even improved a little when you changed into pajamas and straightened the bed once more before putting your head on the pillow and looking at the phone.

Nothing.

There's no point blaming Leon or doubting his love. It wasn't up to him. Sometimes he was dragged out of bed late at night and you could not see him for weeks without even being able to talk on the phone for one minute. But when he returned, he turned into a puppy clinging to his beloved owner and covered your body with a lot of kisses, not letting you get out of bed. Not that you mind… You always miss him and worry about him.

Sighing, you turn over on your side, putting the phone on the bedside table and not seeing the desired message from your fiance. Therefore, grabbing Leon's pillow, the lungs are filled with his smell and instead of feeling his presence, you experience only a deep feeling tearing apart that makes your heart beat a little faster.

And closing your eyes, you reach for the switch, when suddenly for a second the phone quickly notifies you of a new message from the addressee next to whose name the heart turns red.

"Don't forget to take the pills that the doctor prescribed for you. I want this sickly pallor to disappear. Love you"

Well, smiling, you took a screenshot of the message for some reason, saving it in your gallery on your phone. After sending Leon the answer, you still remembered that you really forgot about those pills once again, but you didn't want to get up anymore, so you left this matter for the morning. Sighing once again, trying his luck in the hope that Leon would write something else, your mobile was treacherously silent while you were just flipping through the social media feed.networks thinking only about how dependent you are on this man. However, the same can be said about him. The phone went out, as did the light in the bedroom, and sleep slowly overtook your mind when you hugged else's pillow without hearing quiet footsteps in the next room. The uninvited guest, thanks to Leon, had to tinker a lot with the lock of the front door before he unlocked it, quietly closing it behind him so as not to attract your attention while you were in the shower. Merging with the surrounding darkness, it was necessary to wait for the right time and prepare the syringe so that everything went as it should and the target was quietly neutralized without attracting the attention of neighbors.

The order was well paid and the fact that Leon left the house on that day was only to his advantage. After all, a government agent can ruin everything and getting rid of him threatened big problems that were not needed by anyone, but who will remember about his pretty bride, about whom he will probably quickly forget everything himself? The unknown person only needed to stick a pomeranian, inject the substance and quietly take the target out of the house by throwing a fake note with a handwriting similar to yours that you and Leon do not see the future for yourself. Pick up a few personal items and throw them in the nearest trash as proof of the truthful departure of the unfaithful bride.

Not the worst plan, especially since Leon Kennedy will think about your disappearance and how natural it is, no one really cares. Even if he suspects this ill-conceived plan, by that time you will be too far away from here anyway.

The problem was solved by itself because you are a simple art worker did not pose any threat even if you tried to resist. One step, two… the blessed victim will not suspect anything until the very moment when someone else's hand in a black glove closes her mouth and sticks a needle into her body. You fall asleep without suspecting anything, somehow reflexively reaching to the left side where Leon usually sleeps with his back to the bedroom door.

You are separated by literally a few meters from each other before one inept movement spoils everything.

The sound of falling books that Leon has been asking you to arrange exactly for so long makes you open your eyes by squeezing the pillowcase of the pillow and the "guest" freeze without touching the door handle. However, you felt a gaze on you that did not let you be deceived that someone had entered the house.

In Leon's bedside table there is a 9mm pistol fully loaded. It's not that you were very accurate, but Leon took you to a place as entertainment, where you trained shooting at targets under the watchful eye.

"not the worst result for a beginner," he said condescendingly so as not to upset you, but it was fun even if the gun was real.

Except now there are no jokes! You heard another step towards your side and held your breath, gathering strength for a jerk to pull out the gun and remove it from the safety. From fear, the heart beat faster, causing the blood to roar in your ears and before the intruder's hand landed on your face, you abruptly rolled to the left side of the bed, throwing a pillow at the person standing over you, winning for yourself a couple of seconds from his confusion.

Jumping to your feet, you quickly grabbed the gun pointing it at the man with trembling hands, removing it from the safety.

"Your own life is more expensive," you thought when a man of impressive size in a mask stood a meter away from you without a weapon, because his goal is to deliver you alive because you will not be of any use dead.

You held his floor at gunpoint, but your hands were shaking from the unusual weight and you really wanted to lower them down, but you held on trying not to panic. A step towards you and you pulled the trigger without aiming so stupidly hitting the closet, startled by the loud noise of the shot, immediately shrinking and from unaccustomed frightened by the strong recoil of the weapon.

"Fuck," he swore loudly, immediately rushing to you, forcing you to scream at the top of your voice while miraculously dodging. Rushing to the door, the first thought was to run outside and ask for help from neighbors, especially since the sound of a gunshot and a woman's scream certainly did not go unnoticed and someone probably should have already called the police. We just need to hold out. However, you only managed to jump out into the corridor when suddenly a strong man's hand roughly grabbed you by the hand in which you were holding a gun and your finger pressed the hook again making a shot.

Again a loud noise, your screams and a small hole in the ceiling.

Again the bullet flew by.

"Get off me, you bastard!"

A ringing slap in the face and you abruptly fell to the floor dropping the gun somewhere to the side. He immediately hung over you, but grabbing the first book that came to hand, you threw it in her man's face and taking advantage of another hitch jumped to her feet, running on without thinking about how much lip hurts.

And yet, the chances of escape were initially small, especially when shortness of breath began due to anemia and the chest began to ache sharply. A deep breath did not help even if your body was filled with adrenaline, he still knocked you to the floor, pressing your whole body to the floor, taking that ill-fated syringe out of your pocket and sticking it into you by quickly pressing the plunger . It only takes a few minutes, but because of your screams and shots, even they could put the entire mission under the "failed" icon, so without wasting even these precious minutes, the kidnapper grabs you by the hair and just hits your head on the floor suppressing resistance at the root. The world before your eyes becomes hazy and barely audible when a strange and unusual feeling of lightness covers you despite the pain in your head.

"Bitch ruined everything"

This bastard threw you over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the house, leaving the syringe lying there on the floor because there was no more time. Throwing you carelessly like a sack into the backseat, he slammed the door and gave gas to get away from the crime scene as soon as possible and dump the tail by moving to another car. They'll pay him well anyway.

You only blurred vision being on the verge of consciousness silently watched your loss until a long sleep covered you.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

My memory is terrible so I wanted to do a breakdown of my stuff every once in a while. Might be monthly, might be whenever I feel like it.

QL - Currently Watching

🇯🇵25 Ji, Akasaka de [7/10] - I do love when Japan does a pov change and this was no exception. Hayama is so far gone. Like we already knew what, but he's been a goner ever since he read his name. He's being worshipped by all these people around him because apparently he's too good looking for anyone to be normal around him, and all he sees is Shirasaki. He said one sentence to him in school that he kept as a reminder. Man is obsessed. I'm so curious about next week. The lines are getting more and more blurred and eventually someone's gotta give. Also Hayama should give lessons on self-control. I have never seen anyone so completely out of his mind in love and jealous and at the same time, so put together. I'm in awe.

🇹🇭 Knock Knock, Boys! [2/12] - Strong start. It's fun, I really liked the flat sharing concept, it reminds me of my London days and kinda like Thanwa, being the mom of the house. I'm wondering if they will settle into their own in-house pairs soon or if there will be cross over, cause that would be fun. Give me mess.

🇹🇭 My Stand-In [1/12] - For a number of reasons I'm waiting to binge this one. I do love watching the gifs on my dash though, pretty is pretty.

🇹🇭 Only Boo! [8/12] - So we're done with highschool and that last episode felt a bit rushed trying to finish all those loose threads but I like that we're getting to a new chapter of their relationship. They continue to be too adorable for words. Side couple - dream kisses my beloathed. From the preview and also the number of thai bl's I've watched I'm thinking this will be a pretty straightforward 'it turns out you like him but now he moved on (not really) and you have to grovel'. I'd love to be surprised though.

🇹🇭 Wandee Goodday [4/12] - I am loving it. Pretty much everything about it. Before I say anything else. Thor is gorgeous and he should do all the shows. Forever. He and Cher are delightful and I love that they are an established couple that seem to have their own roles in the gym and their own relationship with Yak. I said this in tags before I think, but I'm finding it interesting how we collectively talk about this show ending, more often than not, with the caveat 'let's see if it holds up'. We have been burned before and not that long ago so we are all holding our breaths. Contrary to my usual state, I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about this. I think the bones are there for a good show all the way to the end. No one is perfect - except Kao, he is perfection and the ace rep I only dreamed of - and that's great. They are both smitten and complete idiots. I'm looking forward to seeing more of the backstory, and in Yak's case how much of what drives him is a consequence of loss.

🇹🇭 We Are [9/16] - Still enjoying the friendships and still bummed we have no development with Chain/Pun. We had one second of development and it was a look. So much in that look. Not really but at least it seems that Pun is aware of his feelings, so that's something. The last episode kept reminding me of Love Sick because of all the camp stuff. It's an entertaining show but the Q/Toey plot is annoying me a bit now.

QL - Finished

🇹🇭 23.5 - This show lost me about halfway through and I never really connected after that. Even if it really wasn't for me, I'm happy it exists and I hope gmmtv invests in more gl's in the future. I wanted more of the teachers but I'm not greedy and was happy to see that they are together by the end.

🇰🇷Blossom Campus - What a mess. I still cannot believe this came out of Strongberry. I posted my reactions while watching. Final thoughts here.

🇰🇷Boys Be Brave - I really liked this one. Just to get it out of the way, the side couple felt a bit unfinished and could've had a bit more screen time. All the characters had their own stuff going on and 8 episodes just isn't enough to explore that depth in a satisfactory way. With that said. I adore the mains. JinWoo built a wall, put a list on it and we got to see Kiseob slowly tearing it down in its own unhinged unique way. I did a rewatch and something I didn't notice the first time is that when Kiseob is 'caught' with Inho and is explaining what happened while JinWoo hides under the bed, he enumerates what happened just like JinWoo always does. I thought it was so endearing. I found Kiseob's presence on screen always so bright and JinWoo's actor was really compelling to watch. Overall this was a really nice surprise.

🇯🇵 Living with him - Writing this when I literally finished and it's strange. Cause they are so cute by the end. That whole festival date was so adorable, and I think they played the awkwardness of the dynamic change really well. I do think the show dragged in parts and Natsukawa became a tiny bit annoying to me at a certain point. Because he found out so early that Kazuhito liked him that I thought the indecision was too much at times. I kept comparing it in my head to I Cannot Reach You, and the way both Kakeru and Natsukawa's lack of confidence plays a part in how they deal with the friend liking them, but I think in this case the back and forth in his head was irritating to me. It was always one step forward, two steps back. When he found the magazine in that last episode I wanted to punch a wall. Like, oh crap here he goes again. It's great that the friend was passing by so he could do all the work and get these two finally together. For the most part I really enjoyed it.

🇰🇷Love Is Like a Cat - That was a show that I watched. Final thoughts

Rose Watches OJBL

The Novelist (2018) - I put off this one for so long because of reasons and I was so wrong. It's not necessarily an easy watch but it's so good. It's beautifully shot and acted. I went through a whole journey with Kijima, from 'who is this guy?' to 'I fucking hate this guy' to ''I need him to be happy, please'. I will have to rewatch it after I watch all of them because the series is full of details and I'm sure I missed a bunch. Definitely happy I started this journey if for no other reason cause I finally managed to watch this.

Takumi-kun Series 2: Rainbow Colored Glass (2009) - The sad just came out of nowhere. It's got some of the same problems as the first one, choppy editing and even though the cast is new the acting is still not that good. I was less confused throughout which is good, Takumi annoyed me a lot though and the tragic plot was messy and rushed. I'm not sure if I'll watch all of these but probably at least one more and then decide.

Other - Watched

🇨🇳Running Like a Shooting Star (2024)🇯🇵Barakamon (2023)🇯🇵Ghost Yankee (2024) 🇰🇷Wonderful World (2024)

4 Thai BL's coming in June June 7 | My Love Mix-Up (so many mixed feelings) June 9 | Love Sea June 15 | Sunset x Vibes June 26 | The Rebound

As usual my ask box is open for questions or requests. Have a wonderful day/night💜

[all-pacas]

META REQUEST: thoughts on what the gang did during their ‘summer vacation’ (not really vacation) between s2 and 3? particularly the fellows but also cuddy and wilson if ya feel up to it

Naturally my first thought was beach episode…

So, House was gone for eight weeks, which actually is a fairly prolonged period; we also don't hear about Foreman making his 82nd power play for the department while he was out, so I think Cuddy did the S6 thing of just shoving the kids into other departments while they waited for House to return. Foreman was definitely in Neurology, not a lot to debate there. Chase almost definitely was in the ICU or the NICU (depending on how soon Cuddy shuffled them around, he actually could have been working in the ICU while House was still recovering, which is… actually kind of insane to think about).

Cameron… is actually kind of interesting, because at this point she's not established to be super into emergency medicine — I'd assume if PPTH has a dedicated immunology department she'd have gone there, but it could be an fun option if she did end up in the ER; it could have been nice set-up for her, like, oh: she really likes this, she's getting her first glimpses of a World Beyond House. Considering she actually sticks with emergency medicine up to the series finale (Chase mentions she's in charge of her Chicago ER in Post Mortem), that could actually make a lot of sense: she's kind of… found her calling, and you could retroactively apply that to S3 in general; Tritter very much kills her last delusions of House as a heroic figure, she's willing to tip-toe in the direction of dating/relationships… she quits in less than a year's time. She found her Calling! What else is she going to self-discover?

S3 is actually a really fun season, because it does give the kids a lot of forward momentum: they're all leaving at the end and the show really seems to set it up. Starting with Finding Judas, Chase goes on one hell of a hot streak diagnostically, solving 2 cases and providing Vital Clues on 2-3 others; Cameron as mentioned is trying new things and pushing herself (and pushing herself past House); Foreman goes through a whole goddamn arc of bonding with young male patients faced with overwhelming odds who keep letting him down, before resigning and trying to escape and failing (we do not talk about the fucking tragedy of Foreman enough). And that two month summer vacation might actually have been interesting, because… it's the first time any of them have been without House, without one another, in 2+ years. The team spends 12+ hours a day together during cases, at least half the week. Even if, say, Chase and Foreman aren't anything resembling best friends, that's a lot of time to be shoved in a room with someone: they probably know every single asinine story from the other's med school experience, spend downtime having deeply boring conversations about TV or "I read this fun fact" or what have you, you know? The team is super closely intertwined, and now they're abruptly… not.

And I don't think they had separation anxiety or anything, but it's kind of interesting, you know? Cameron getting used to the ER, wanting to turn and ask Chase for advice on dealing with critical patients 24/7. Foreman in neurology, among his peers, kind of missing his loser coworkers. All of them with the urge to check over their shoulder for House, having to deal with the ways House's teaching style has molded them. I can picture Foreman surprise diagnosing a neurology patient, House style — he comes in and out of S3 with the He's The New House reputation — and everyone being a little bit surprised and in awe. Or, Cameron really enjoying the hell out of the ER and lowkey bothering everyone because she keeps wanting to be like "omg, there was this kid who sliced his finger off and I --" like they're all like we get it, you're having fun, "no no, okay, but then there was this woman, right?" Or Chase just experiencing no change because he was already the team's dedicated ICU guy, but missing House intensely and feeling weird about it lmao.

Random and specific headcanons I'm making up on the spot:

Cameron tried dating. For a hot second. She met some TB Guy-lite and went for dinner with him and he was a total bore and she hated it, and felt bad about hating it, ghosted him immediately, had a minor crisis about what it all Means, and then. Got bangs.

Chase went surfing. Obviously. He thought about going back to Australia for the first time in X Years and then just. Did not. Slightly guiltily. Went to Mexico instead. He and Cameron got drinks once or twice after work, just as friends/so she could ask him highly specific critical care questions because she is truly hyperfixated on the ER.

Foreman was absolutely thriving. His neurology department peers think he's great and smart and respect him, he managed to do a very cool House-like solve twice, he cannot wait to return to Diagnostics and show everyone how cool he is. He lowkey misses hanging out with Cameron (who he does sometimes hang out with in the cafeteria) and Chase (who he does not), but he downplays it.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Caribbean Sunset

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling (Hob x Dream) Rated: E Word Count: 5496 Tags: Human AU, PWP, cruise ship, Service Top Hob, Enthusiastic Bottom Dream, Dream is not quiet in bed, there is a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet at one point, Dream of the Endless is a Horny Little Weasel, bossy Dream, agreeable Hob, outdoor sex, potential for unintended exhibitionism, a brief moment of thrill-seeking sex w heights involved, blatant disregard for typical human refractory periods, effusive endearments, a brief turn of Top Dream/Bottom Hob, background Hob & Johanna, Hob and Johanna are besties, mention of swinging and f/f/f threesome

Notes: A fill for the monthly smut prompts posted up by the lovely @staroftheendless - this is directly inspired by Smutember day 10 (cruise ship) and also makes use of Smutember day 12 (sunset) and, if I wanted to be technical, I could also say it pulls in Smaugust day 31 (ocean) by default. I was so sure I could do this as an under-1K quick fill. They, as usual, had other ideas.

Summary: Hob hooks up with a beautiful stranger on a Caribbean cruise

On AO3

His stranger's back hits the full-length window with a thud, and the sound he makes disappears into Hob's eager mouth. His arms are around Hob's neck, fingers tangled in his hair, bare legs gripping tight about Hob's hips. Hob's hands are splayed on the backs of his thighs, moving under to grab his own cock now that the laminated glass is doing the work of holding the guy up; Hob double-checks that the condom is properly in place and then he's lining himself up, pushing in, tight wet heat sinking down around him.

His stranger's head knocks back against the glass, a long moan rising out of his throat, and he makes a practiced, fluid motion with his hips that seats Hob that last inch smoothly inside him. "Fuck me," he orders desperately, that low voice strung tight and breathless, "oh god, Hob, fuck me—"

And Hob, well. He's hardly inclined to refuse, obviously, and so he obeys, a few careful strokes to establish the balance and the rhythm, and then he's railing his stranger senseless—fucking up into him hard and fast, panting into his pretty red mouth, pinning him against the glass and drowning in the way he wails his pleasure.

Hob can hardly believe he's actually here.

Two nights already they had been flirting on this cruise, escalating rather quickly from heated eye contact to suggestive conversation in the lounge to the clearest possible signals of raging interest and intent. Twice Hob had been ready to bed this seductive siren of a stranger who coyly refused him a name and twice he'd been cock-blocked by Johanna, with whom he'd previously agreed to barhop the entirety of the ship, whom he'd 'promised karaoke time, c'mon Hobsie, don't leave me hanging—'

But tonight he'd told her she was on her own, and his beautiful stranger had dragged him back out of the lounge as soon as they'd spotted one another, promising him a drink from the bar in his suite if Hob was 'truly that thirsty for alcohol'.

His stranger's suite turned out to be the royal suite, the grandest accommodation on the ship, but Hob had no thought for appreciating the luxury of it when his stranger had slammed him up against the inside of the door while still sliding his keycard into the power slot, kissing him fiercely. They'd shed clothes all through the entryway, kissing like they were starved for one another the entire time, winding up naked in the doorway to the bedroom—where his stranger had retrieved lube and condoms and herded Hob back out to the main room.

"I do not wish to be had in the bed," he'd said then, breathlessly aroused but still haughty as anything, the 'I've spent ungodly amounts of money on this enormous suite and I should like to be railed against every option it offers' clear in his tone. So Hob had pushed him down on the plush sofa in the middle of the main room and swallowed his pretty pink cock until he came, had spread him like a feast on the private dining table and eaten him out until he was hard again and singing Hob's praises, had bent him over the bar and fingered him all the way open until he was sobbing and demanding Hob's cock.

And now Hob is balls-deep in his beautiful stranger, who is plastered against the glass door to the verandah making noises like he's getting fucked within an inch of his life.

Which, of course, he is, if Hob may say so himself.

The curtains are wide open, giving Hob a view over the deck and the rail to the dying Caribbean sunset beyond—which he's sure is gorgeous, but he's rather more enamored with the way that that light paints his stranger's pale skin with liquid gold, the glint of it off his tousled ebony hair, how it casts the vivid kiss-bitten red of his open mouth in sultry shadow.

"Just look at you," Hob gasps, fucking hard and fast up into tight heat, utterly wrecked by the sight before him. "Christ, you're beautiful, I'm the luckiest bloke on this goddamn ship—"

"Hob—ahh—Hob, Hob—!" His stranger is moaning his name on every thrust, arched back against the glass and clinging fiercely around Hob's shoulders, thighs trembling where they grip his hips. He's so open and responsive, so noisy, Hob can't get enough and he shoves up close again, buries the sound of his name beneath the weight of his tongue in his stranger's mouth, fierce and wet and adoring.

And then his stranger lets go of him with one hand, swipes along the glass and scrabbles for the door latch, wrenches the lock open and tears his mouth free of Hob's. "Outside," he gasps, wrapping arms and legs tight about Hob again. "Take me outside—"

Hob hefts him off the door and sweeps it open, stumbles out onto the spacious verandah. There is a private hot tub out here and doesn't that hold a lot of fun possibilities, but Hob will think about that another time. Because his stranger is bouncing himself slightly on Hob's cock like he just can't wait for Hob to start fucking him properly again, little 'ah' noises in his throat each time he comes down, and it's making it so hard to keep his balance, let alone walk or actually give the guy what he so desperately wants. It's a relief when he squirms down on Hob's cock and stays put, tilts in for a brief kiss that is more biting-and-licking than actual proper kiss. "Put me on the railing," he breathes, right into Hob's mouth, and okay. Alright. He can do that.

Somewhat.

The railing is tall enough to hit his stranger low on his back as they're currently situated, a little too high for Hob to actually perch him up there and still be able to fuck him, not without a step. So he presses up against the railing as-is, crowds in close to his stranger again, grip firm around his thighs because he's suddenly registering that is a bloody long drop to the ocean below, especially from the top deck of the goddamn ship, where this ridiculously posh suite is of course located.

The last thing he wants to do is drop the guy overboard in the middle of sex; the thought is a bit of a moodkiller, to be sure. And yet his beautiful fuck-hungry partner seems not the least bit bothered by the possibility, letting go of Hob to grasp the railing tightly, leaning himself back out over the emptiness as much as he can, legs locked tight around Hob.

"Careful," Hob can't help saying, a frisson of alarm curling underneath his raging arousal.

"Yes," his stranger agrees, head dropping back so that he's gazing upside-down at the dusky sky, at the fading molten line where it meets the sea, and then he writhes his hips, impatient. "Hob," he whines, and damned if his name in that voice doesn't make Hob just a little bit feral.

Fine, alright. The guy wants a little adrenaline rush with his sex; Hob can respect that, and his dick is certainly happy enough to start fucking again, his stranger's arse still slick and warm and tight around him. He loses himself in it for a minute, the heat, the slide, the open air, the guy's cock jutting stiffly between them, the beautiful pale arch of his stranger's neck as he hangs back over open space, the soft little moans he's making from this angle and the way they would suddenly turn to shrieking screams if he fell back and over—

God damn it.

His stranger lifts himself upright again quite suddenly, a graceful fluid display of extremely sexy core strength that completely disrupts Hob's faltering rhythm.

"What's wrong?" he demands, breathless and urgent, blue eyes narrowed, pretty mouth turned down slightly.

God, but that pout looks good on him. Hob swallows. "Bit terrified I'll drop you over, actually. Can't get it out of my head?"

His stranger's expression smooths out, the little wrinkle of consternation disappearing as the pout morphs into a smoldering half-lidded gaze of pure lust. "My Hob," he purrs, leaning forward, draping his arms around Hob's neck, tilting in, "so wonderfully. Chivalrous—" The word brushes straight into Hob's mouth, followed by the wet curl of his stranger's tongue, the kiss thorough and deep, fingers combing through Hob's hair, his stranger's prick nestled into the thick fur of Hob's belly.

And then he's lifting himself off of Hob's cock, unwrapping his legs, sliding down and stepping back. Hob lists after him blindly, helplessly, dizzy from the kiss and already missing the grip of his partner's body. "I'm sorry; I wasn't trying to stop things—"

His stranger presses those slender fingers to his mouth. "You haven't." He kisses Hob again fiercely and then he's turning around, leaning forward against the rail and angling another of those coy smoldering looks over his shoulder. "Have me like this, instead." He arches his back, legs wide, presenting his arse, and oh-kay, Hob's on board, definitely, much safer this way with everyone's feet on the ground. Yes. His hands are already on his stranger's cheeks, spreading him open, displaying his slick and well-fucked hole to the light flooding through the windows behind them in the rising dusk and Hob takes half a second to just appreciate such a beautiful sight before he lines his cock up and slides it neatly home, all the way to the hilt in one smooth thrust.

"Yes," his stranger moans, rocking back against him, clenching around him, "Hob, yes, yes—"

Hob grasps his pretty little hips in both hands and fucks.

The sky is deep blue overhead, purpling toward the horizon, faintly pink still where the sun has just sunk below; the noise of the deck party at the other end of the ship is faint, barely audible, and there is nothing but the sound of the waves, the endless stretch of darkening ocean around them, billions of stars twinkling into view and Hob gets it. He gets why his stranger brought them outside, why he hung over the edge, why he wants to get railed over the railing (heh). The vastness of the sea and sky is exhilarating, invigorating; he feels small and inconsequential yet so damned alive he thinks he might burst, and fucking is the best thing he could possibly do about it.

His stranger is moaning beautifully, low and lilting, is gripping the rail and thrusting back to meet him and Hob is maybe just a little bit in love already. He slides a hand around, grasps his stranger's cock just to hear his voice rise, strokes it because he can't not. It's such a perfect prick, shapely and slender-tipped, thick at the base and exactly the right length to ride on and Hob wants it inside him very badly next time, if there is in fact a next time. For now he's content just to stroke it, to savor the feel of it in his grip and the way his stranger positively writhes forward into his hand and back onto his cock.

And then his stranger slides a hand over Hob's, twines them together briefly around himself before lifting Hob's hand away, bringing it up to his chest. "I will come untouched," he declares breathlessly, and well, okay. That is both flattering and intimidating, the implicit expectation that Hob can and will fuck him so well he doesn't need his cock stroked to finish—but Hob has never been one to shy from a challenge, especially when there's orgasms involved.

"Putting a lot of faith in me, love," he says, teasing, slowing his thrusts just for variation, and gets himself another coy over-the-shoulder glance for it.

"I am certain it is not misplaced," his stranger says, a little moan on the final vowel thanks to Hob's cock sliding into him again.

"Heh. As you wish, then," Hob demurs, still fucking slow and smooth, and since his hand is resting on his stranger's chest, he moves his thumb in search of a nipple. The noise the guy makes when he finds it is startlingly loud; charmed, Hob flicks over it again and his stranger gives a shuddering whine, wriggles backwards on Hob's cock.

Of course he has sensitive nipples too; he is so utterly perfect in every way and Hob absolutely has to fuck him harder about it, slamming his cock home while his fingers dance over the ripened bud on his stranger's chest. His moans are getting high and loud as Hob takes him apart, unmistakable if anyone were to overhear, which. The suite is designed for privacy, sure, but his voice is really carrying and it's not unthinkable that the nearest neighbors might be getting an earful if they're out on their verandahs. Hob debates for a second, but when his next thrust jolts a high sharp cry from his stranger, he abandons the nipple and wraps his hand over the guy's mouth instead, muffling his voice.

"Alright then?" he asks, leaning close, lips along the back of his stranger's ear, and gets a desperate whine in answer, a nod jerked against his hold. They carry on another moment, lost in the heated slide and slap of their bodies, Hob's blood rising with every second. He lets go of the pale slender hip he's been holding on to and grasps the railing right next to his stranger's white-knuckled grip, leaning into him, still covering his mouth, and the shift in angle is apparently exactly what was needed to get the guy there. He shudders and throws his head back onto Hob's shoulder, twists under Hob's hand and sinks his teeth into the meat of it between thumb and forefinger, the high keening sound he's making now still effectively muffled. The bite doesn't hurt, just spurs Hob on really, and when the guy starts to tremble, then shake, he doubles his efforts, hammering hard. "C'mon, sweetheart," he pants, low and breathless, lips brushing the shell of a pale ear. "Come for me, darling, there's a love—"

His stranger spasms, goes rigid, wails into the palm of Hob's hand as his orgasm hits.

Hob slams in deep and holds there, runs his lips along the taut line of that pale neck, shivering at the way the other's arse grips him tight, clenching rhythmically with his release. Doubtless he's spattering all over the plexiglass of the rail, dripping on the deck, but cleanup will be a later problem.

When his stranger goes limp, Hob eases back, pushes carefully into him again, and the resulting moan is low, softer, sated. Hob's hand is released and he drops it to the guy's hip, thumb caressing the dip of his waist as he fucks in slow and smooth again.

"I can stop, if you like," he offers, unsure if his stranger is the type who still enjoys getting fucked in the aftermath of orgasm or the type who can't take the ongoing stimulation.

"I would prefer you continue. However—" Abruptly, his stranger has drawn off of Hob's cock and turned around, is pushing him backwards until he stumbles and falls onto one of the sun loungers on the deck, which are much plusher than the ones in the common pool areas. "A change of position would please me immensely." And he swings himself down to straddle Hob's lap, wriggles his arse over Hob's prick and sheaths him back inside with ease.

The incline angle of the lounger is perfect, makes it easy to reach up and pull his stranger down to kiss, easy to grasp his hips and let him move. And move he does, effortless and smooth, a sultry roll that has Hob's toes curling while the guy's tongue is practically dancing in his mouth, slender fingers carding behind his ears and angling his head into the kiss, which somehow gets even better.

He lifts away a long moment later, presses short little pecks to either of Hob's parted lips and darts his tongue briefly in between them, a lingering tease of farewell before he straightens up, still leaning forward. He's holding Hob's eyes, unblinking, intent, and the roll of his hips turns insistent, rising and falling on Hob's length in a heavy, steady rhythm.

It's a little surreal, sprawled in the lazy embrace of the sun lounger, stars blanketing the heavens overhead, the warm night air and the wafting breeze, the shush of the waves against the hull far below, the beautiful fey creature in his lap, limned in soft golden light from the uncurtained windows. There's a sheen of sweat on his skin by now from exertion, and it makes him practically glow as he rides Hob's cock, alive and ethereal and untouchable, and absolutely sexy as fuck.

"How are you even real," Hob breathes, reverent, awed, hips pulsing up in soft counterpoint and the heat in his belly swimming, spreading.

His beautiful stranger gives a sultry little whine, mouth turning down the slightest bit. "How are you not coming yet?"

Hob blinks.

"Your stamina is unbelievable. Men usually pop for me very quickly. I am not accustomed to working quite so hard for it."

There is a tease underneath the complaining tone, and the corner of Hob's mouth lifts in a roguish answering grin. "Can't help it, gorgeous. My partner should get off before I even think about my own pleasure."

Those incredibly blue eyes actually roll. "Hob Gadling." Yes, he'd given the guy his full name that first night, and clearly he'd remembered it. "Your chivalry is—misplaced, at this point. I have come twice by your talents, yet you seem—intent on making it three, while you have yet to finish once. I will have your orgasm, now, and then—ahh—I would have you carry me to bed and stay the night."

Hob loses his rhythm at that. "You…want me to stay?"

"The shower is sensual, and spacious. I would have you there, in the morning, and then perhaps you might join me for breakfast?" His tone is the haughty-imperious thing that had tied Hob's insides in knots the first night, but it's shot through with a fleeting thread of unexpected vulnerability.

"That sounds absolutely divine," Hob says, something warm blooming in the vicinity of his heart. He knows he's falling too hard too fast but fuck it—he'll worry about that when the cruise is over. He wants to pull this beautiful creature into his arms, kiss him senseless, roll them over and fuck him tenderly until he comes again, and then maybe come himself. But the width of the lounger doesn't allow for a graceful roll and he's not about to disrupt things to the point needed to get this guy underneath him.

"Talk to me," he says instead, running his hands from hips to ribs and back again, a soft caress. "Your voice does things to me. It'll help, if you've truly worn yourself out on my cock." He winks.

"Not quite," the guy smirks, and starts moving again. He is quiet a moment, and then: "I pleasured myself, while thinking of you," he says, undulating on Hob's dick like it's the easiest thing in the world. "The other night, after your charming friend dragged you away. You had aroused me terribly; I came back here and thought of you, writhing in my bed with my hand on my prick and my fingers in my arse, imagining how you might do it instead."

"Shit," Hob gasps, the words sparking new heat in his gut, making him harder. He's staring up into his stranger's beautiful face, utterly mesmerized by the intensity he sees there in the light that spills from the windows alongside them.

"I was frustrated, last night, when you left me again," he says, picking Hobs hands from his hips, twining their fingers together, leaning forward to gently pin them beside Hob's head, his rhythm faster, still flawless. "Aroused, aflame, abandoned by the one I desired. I engaged with an American gentleman who was eager to take me back to his stateroom and suck me off. I pretended his mouth was yours."

Hob whimpers, well on his way to orgasm, spurred on by his stranger's confessions. He raises his knees and plants his feet on the lounge, giving himself leverage to thrust properly in counterpoint and his stranger lights up atop him.

"But tonight—ahh—tonight, I have you in truth, at last, and you are—exceeding, my expectations, and—and—ohh, you are going to make me come again, Hob—!" He untangles his fingers from Hob's and buries them in Hob's hair, plunges his tongue into Hob's open mouth with a whine, kissing hot and wet and desperate as he bounces his hips fiercely in Hob's lap. They are slamming together now hard and fast, the kiss turning into openmouthed panting against one another, swallowing each other's little noises; Hob's hands are tangling in his stranger's artfully-messy hair, scrabbling down his back, seizing his arse and spreading his cheeks, holding him open and still as he fucks up into him relentlessly. His own orgasm is looming, building, so close he can taste it but his stranger has said he's about to come again and Hob will make it happen first.

The guy's almost quiet about it, this time; his body goes tense atop Hob's in very short order and he moans into Hob's mouth, a thin, warbling sound that strains out of his throat. "Don't stop, don't stop," he manages, as Hob holds deep to let him ride it out, so he starts thrusting again while the guy is still coming and that's just about all it takes. His stranger's moan ends on a gasp, and then a series of sharp sobs as Hob fucks him through it, keeps him trembling at the height of climax while fiercely chasing his own. He nips at the guy's open mouth, heedless of the saliva drooling from his quivering lower lip, seeks out the luscious wet of that tempting tongue with his own.

It's exquisite, exhilarating, erotic, and Hob's body has completely slipped its leash, pistoning up into his stranger with abandon, pleasure rising like floodwaters. He moans as it starts to hit, lamenting that he still doesn't know this guy's name and then he's up over the precipice and falling, spilling into his stranger's shaking body with a choked cry. "I'm coming, love, I'm coming," he gasps, earning another sob; his hands are tight on the guys arse, holding him down, holding the two of them crushed together while he empties himself at long last.

It lets him go in a rush and he goes limp, his stranger collapsing on top of him, burying his face in Hob's throat. Hob wraps unsteady arms around him, cradles him close, both of them silent while they catch their breath.

He stirs only to reach down and take care of the condom as he softens; once it's tied off and set aside, he's holding his stranger again. The guy hasn't moved, except to burrow a little closer, and Hob is thoroughly enamored with how cuddly he's becoming in the aftermath of what was, quite frankly, incredible sex.

He gives him a few moments before he shifts, bringing a hand to cup the back of his skull, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "Still alive, there?"

The guy stirs, lifts his head, brushes his lips lingeringly across Hob's. "Not even a little bit."

Hob cards his fingers underneath his beautiful stranger's sweat-damp hair, strokes his scalp, easing down to his nape. He presses the tiniest kiss against the red of the guy's upper lip on one side, soft and affectionate.

"Love, sweetheart, precious…what's your name?" He turns into an absolute sap once he's come. He can't help it.

His stranger gives him that same coy little smile that's been tying him in knots since two days ago, but it's softer and sweeter around the edges now, which. Is somehow much, much worse.

"I like the things you call me because you don't know."

Hob's heart trips lightly in his chest. "If you're fond of petnames, darling, I promise you've not heard the last of them from me. Still love to have your real name?"

His stranger's smile softens to something that looks incredibly fond.

"Stay?" he says, in lieu of an answer, tucking his face back into Hob's throat. "The bed is spacious, and quite comfortable."

Hob is so far gone already, it's a little pathetic, but again, he can't help it. For the sake of his own dignity, though, he's trying very hard not to crumble immediately. "If I stay, will you tell me your name in the morning?"

"Perhaps." The coy smugness is crystal clear.

Hob caves. "Fine, okay, yes. Let's get you to bed."

"And you will stay?"

"'Course, love. I'll stay." He swings himself around and upright, his stranger still cuddled in his lap and clinging like a limpet, and somehow summons the strength to stand.

He carries him to bed as requested, pushes back the covers and lays him down, and when he moves to straighten up the guy holds on with a low little whine of protest. "Ho~ob."

It's adorable, honestly. "In a tick, love," he says, gently disengaging those gorgeous arms from around his neck. And then, as an afterthought, he smooches him on the forehead.

It takes him a minute to find his trousers out in the main area and retrieve his phone to text Johanna, but it turns out she's beat him to it.

Eyyy, Hobsie! Y'know my cute little shirt with the pineapples and flamingos on it? Turns out that's code-signaling for swingers, who knew? Anyway I met this AMAZING couple, gorgeous gals, spending the night, don't wait up. Ta!

Hob smiles, shakes his head, fires off a quick reply.

Hey Jo - lemme know you're still alive when you wake up. Hope you had fun? Found my pretty stranger; he's invited me for breakfast. I'll be back in time for the excursion.

He turns his phone off, slips back into the bedroom and into the bed, where his stranger immediately snuggles close, rubbing his face in Hob's chest hair like a cat. "Goodnight, Hob," he murmurs, and Hob's heart does a soft little somersault.

Yeah, he's got it bad, and he doesn't really care.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Sweet dreams."

His stranger snorts a little sound that might be a giggle, and Hob drifts off in short order with this beautiful man in his arms and a smile on his face.

~~~ In the morning, he discovers that the shower is indeed as opulent as promised, and that his gorgeous stranger is very good with his hands. And his mouth.

Also, his name is Dream, which Hob finally learns while crowding the guy up against the glass of the shower wall after, mouth on his slender white neck and hand around his perfect cock.

There is a certain decadent hedonism in taking breakfast buck naked with his stranger—with Dream—in his lap after orgasms in the shower, at the same table he'd eaten Dream out on the night before. It's a shame he must excuse himself directly after, but he's promised to meet Johanna in time for their shore excursion today.

Serendipitously, Dream has booked the same excursion, swimming with the dolphins in St. Thomas—it's a lot of fun, and Jo is a very good sport about the added company. She does excuse herself as soon as they've reboarded that afternoon, though, since 'the ladies invited me back tonight and I am absolutely taking them up on it, thanks.'

Dream draws Hob aside by the forward elevator bay, pulls him into a short but steamy kiss, slips a keycard into his pocket and regards him from beneath coquettish black lashes. "I trust you can find your way back?"

"Oh yes," Hob breathes, and the heat stirred in him by the short exchange fuels him all the way back to his and Johanna's stateroom. He passes Jo on her way out, rolls his eyes with a smile at the leering finger-guns she gives him, and hurries through grabbing fresh clothes for the morning, his own toiletries, his phone charger.

Dream is nowhere to be seen when Hob lets himself back into the enormous posh suite, but the door to the deck is wide open, sea breeze wafting pleasantly through the room. Hob finds him out in the hot tub, jets frothing up the water, arms stretched out along the rim and head laid back to bare his throat temptingly, eyes closed. There are two glasses of wine in easy reach on the side of the tub.

"Hullo," Hob breathes, turned inside out all over again that this gorgeous charming creature has chosen his company.

Dream cracks open one eye, greets him with a slow curling smile. "My Hob." He shuts his eye again, arches back in a show of sensual indulgence. "Take your clothes off. Join me."

Hob doesn't need to be told twice.

Sitting naked in the hot tub with Dream, drinking wine and soaking away any cares, is a deliciously heady experience; when Dream sets aside his glass and drifts into Hob's lap to kiss him with gentle confidence, it becomes even more so. They spend a good half hour like this, Dream's lithe wet body in Hob's arms, Dream's elegant hands idly playing with the hair at Hob's nape, and on his chest, and on his arms. Their kisses are soft, wet, slow, a thorough and unhurried reacquaintance with one another after the day spent platonically, the frenzied passion of the night before.

The end result is much the same, regardless.

"Dream—" Hob is still so delighted to have a name "—Dream, darling, please tell me we can fuck again tonight," he breathes, enraptured by the way Dream's hard cock is idly bumping against his beneath the warm water.

"My apologies, Hob," Dream says with a slow smile. "You made such exquisite use of me last night; I would prefer to allow myself another night to recover. However." His fingertips drag up the side of Hob's thigh, dance across his stomach to stroke over the head of his prick. "I know many other ways to…entertain you, for the evening." The purr in his voice and the sultry look on his face are such that Hob wouldn't be surprised if the water around them suddenly set in to boiling.

"You can entertain me any way you like," he says, a rush of anticipation fizzing up inside him as Dream strokes him slow and lazy. "But I am absolutely dying to get your beautiful prick inside me, if you're willing?"

Dream stills, draws back, looks at him with wide eyes, and it's clear this is not a request he's accustomed to hearing. "You would like…me, to fuck you?"

"Please," Hob breathes, viciously aroused by the way those words sound in that delicious mouth and a bit broadly pissed off at every guy who'd ever added up Dream's fancy words slight build and pretty face and assumed him a waifish twink who exclusively bottomed. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all day. Please, please please please please—" he's leaning forward, each 'please' brushing Dream's parted lips "—sweetheart, let me sit on that brilliant cock? Or lay me out and spread me open and fill me up?"

Dream surges into him and seizes his face, kisses him fiercely, water sloshing all around them and over the sides. "Such things you say, Hob Gadling," he breathes, nipping at his lips in between his next words. "Up. Out. Wait for me over there."

Hob is, again, only too happy to obey, adjusting the sun lounger to lay flat, the breeze warm on his wet skin as he settles onto it. Dream returns with condom and lube and crawls over him, kissing, touching, and Hob learns exactly how talented those pale slender fingers are as they open him up with relentless skill.

The sun is settling into the sea when Dream finally pushes into him, full and perfect between his legs, mouthing kisses against Hob's hairy calf laid over his shoulder, warm everywhere that their bodies touch. The dying light paints him golden and vibrant, coppers and oranges playing on his skin; Hob soaks him in, the flawless rhythm he sets between them, the pleasure singing in his own veins, the sight of Dream leaning close above, aglow in the wash of the Caribbean sunset with adoration in his eyes as he gazes down at Hob, and Hob knows.

Whatever happens when the cruise is over, whatever follows his return to normal life—this holiday, the chance to connect with Dream, has been more than worth it, and will stay with him forever.

=== Started: 9/4/23 Drafted: 9/10/23 Posted: 9/13/23

Fun trivia: Jo's pineapples-and-flamingos discovery is 100% a real thing. An upside-down pineapple on your stateroom door (or your door at home) indicates willingness to swing/looking to swing/there's a swinging party happening here right now. In clothing it's apparently meant to be a little more subtle/covert, a way to start a conversation in that direction. Flamingos as a swinging indicator is usually more in context of plastic lawn ornaments at home or when camping, but will also get incorporated with the pineapple motif on cruise ships/tropical vacations. So depending on who her hookup couple is (Gaultienne? LuciMaze? I couldn't decide), when they spot obviously-single Johanna alone at the bar obliviously advertising that she Plays Well With Others they decide either she probably doesn't know and perhaps they should tell her, or to have a little fun at her expense. Jo strikes me as a woman of opportunity regardless.

Jo: You two got an insider's perspective on this, then? Jo: You looking for other swingers tonight? Jo: Because. *sips beer* Wouldn't say no, would I. 'F I got asked?

I am not writing this I wouldn't even know where to start with characterization brain stop feeding me snippets—

✨✨✨ Sequel: London Fog ✨✨✨

[feeshies]

Okay since I did pretty well during my first year, I feel like I can share my law school Study Hacks

(May also be applicable to non-law school studying)

Disclaimer: these are tips from someone who is okay with being average-to-decent in law school. The jobs I want aren't the ones where you have to get straight A's your first year. If you're looking to get into BigLaw, I can't help you. Also I didn't really study in undergrad (I only enrolled in classes where I could write a final paper instead of taking an exam), so a lot of these tips I had to learn on the fly. If you have a technique, stick with that. Also (x2) I have ADHD, so I had to come up with a technique which worked with that.

I'm mostly making this post because before law school, I fell down a lot of study-influencer rabbit holes, and I found myself feeling self-conscious that I couldn't get my study habits to look that neat and "aesthetic."

Part 1: Setup

Step 0: Get a big whiteboard.

This is the first thing I bought when I moved into my apartment and it's my favorite possession. Listen, planners are nice. I used planners all throughout undergrad. But that's just because I didn't have the space for a big whiteboard. The big whiteboard is not just where I put my assignments, but it's also where I plan out my week (we'll get to that)

Step 0.2: Get a smaller calendar whiteboard.

I have a smaller whiteboard that functions as a calendar. I don't put due dates on this (unless it's a major due date or some kind of school event). Not really relevant to studying, only to show that I separate big due dates from my everyday study tracking. Trying to cram everything into a normal calendar can make it easy to overlook important stuff.

Step 1: Before the semester starts, color code all of your classes.

The colors can be completely arbitrary (I just used the colors that came up on OneNote).

For my first semester, it was:

Contracts: Blue

Torts: Orange

Civil Procedure: Black or White

Legal Writing I: Green

After the first semester was established, I was able to use this color association for similar classes during the second semester:

Property: Blue

Criminal Law: Orange

Legislation: Black or White

Legal Writing II: Green

These are the colors I would always associate with these classes. On my giant whiteboard, I would use different colored markers to indicate which class I was writing about (versus having to go "contracts: pages 12-50" or whatever. I could just write "12-50" with blue marker)

I already erased my whiteboard for the semester (another reason to do this: it's incredibly satisfying), but here's a recreation:

I have my reading assignments for each week organized by class (+ the due dates.) Then in red, I write down the number of pages I'll have to read in each segment. Whenever something's done, cross it off.

This is my weekly calendar where I divide up when I'll be reading and how much (plus other stuff I have going on that week). I also divide the reading evenly. If I have two days to read 28 pages, I'm doing 14 pages one day, and the other 14 the other.

This is because 1. If the assigned reading has a natural shorter and longer part, I'm going to do the shorter one first and put off the longer one because I am lazy and I don't care about sabotaging future me. If it's even, I can hold myself accountable. And 2. stopping abruptly can make it easier for you to get back in that same headspace when you continue reading. It's the same mentality behind that writing tip that stopping mid-sentence can help prevent writer's block, because your brain is good at filling in gaps. It's much less daunting than starting at a fresh topic.

Other things of note:

I transcribe the notes I take in class when I get home. I try to do this as soon as possible so I don't forget anything (jotting down specific examples or anecdotes raised by your professor can help you memorize the material more). I take my notes by hand (in a notebook color-coordinated with the class), and then I use OneNote so they're in a more legible place.

I also try to update my outlines every week. This was something I didn't learn until late first semester but I wish I knew earlier. You don't want to be scrambling to make your outlines the week before exams. I'll go more into outlining later.

I also don't do anything school-related on Sundays. Mainly because that's my cleaning day, but I also need a break. Try to set a hard boundary with yourself.

I'll go into more detail about my exact studying and outlining strategies in another post (plus exam stuff), but this was just about the setup and it's already too long.

TL;DR: color-coordinate your classes, get a big whiteboard, studying doesn't have to be pretty if it works

[sammys-magical-au]

Random Star Wars headcanons that just ✨make sense✨ - PART 2!

Bc I’ve thought up MORE since the last post!! And to be honest, I’ll probably have more STILL after this one! I AM MENTALLY UNWELL!!!!

Anakin is probably one of the weirdest people to sleep next to. Anyone who’s slept in the same room with him knows this. Not only does he sleeptalk during Force dreams (he says some pretty cryptic shit when that happens) and occasionally thrash around like he’s fighting for his life, but he usually sleeps with his blanket pulled up over his head and his feet sticking out at the bottom. Mans sleeps like a corpse in the morgue. It is, quite honestly, rather disturbing to see. Obi-Wan nearly had a heart attack the first time he went to wake Anakin up and saw him sleeping like that.

Lionel is a nickname person, and usually likes to come up with their own nicknames for people (hence they call Anakin “Kenni” instead of “Ani”), thus they started calling Padmé “Paddi”, which she found somewhat annoying at first (even more so when Anakin started teasingly calling her that as well) but later found more endearing. Nel has an entire plethora of nicknames for Obi-Wan, ranging from easily explainable ones like “Obi” or “Sugar”, to ones that absolutely no one wants to know the reasoning behind.

Additionally, Lionel has a few other nicknames for Anakin that they use occasionally. “Desert-Boy” is a go-to, for obvious reasons, and “Grumpy” or “Pouty-Pants” is reserved for whenever Anakin makes That Face (you know the one)

Since I established in the last post that Padmé sleeptalks, and I mentioned earlier that Anakin does as well, I’m imagining how hilarious it would be if they did it at the same time. Anakin mumbles something like “T̵h̶e̵ ̶s̶k̴y̷ ̷s̶h̵a̷l̷l̸ ̸s̶p̵l̴i̵t̸ ̶i̷n̶ ̵t̷w̴o̷ ̸a̴n̶d̸ ̵t̶e̵a̶r̶s̷ ̶o̷f̶ ̶b̴l̵o̷o̷d̷ ̸w̴i̵l̷l̵ ̴r̶a̴i̶n̴ ̵u̸p̶o̷n̸ ̶u̶s̷ ̵a̵l̴l̷” and then Padmé will respond like “I dunno, I’ll have to check my schedule to see if I’m free that day. I’ll let you know tomorrow”. Meanwhile Lionel, who was woken up by their talking, is absolutely dying trying not to wake them (or Obi-Wan) up with their laughter, and probably recording it to show Ahsoka and Barriss later.

Less of a headcanon and more of a fact I guess? In part two of my au (Fifteen Years, coming soon-ish, probably, hopefully), Luke and Leia are 14, Ben is 12, Han is 16 and Din is 17. Not sure what age I’d have Grogu being at this point since it’d be set in a different time period, but let’s say he’s at least 30 (bc that’s still a baby for his species)

Din found Grogu a lot earlier in this au as well and still had the Dad Instict take over immediately. Upon meeting Ben & the twins’ parents he shamelessly tells these Actual Adults that Grogu is his son and they’re all like “you’re not even 18 yet????”. I’m envisioning Young Din being a lot like Ballister with Nimona - you’d think he’s a lot older than he is based on looks and how he acts but in reality he’s barely an adult at all and his child is actually older than him by several decades.

And speaking of meeting the twins’ parents; I know some people think Anakin would ironically love Din immediately (as opposed to not liking Han), but I personally don’t think he’d be overly thrilled over Luke’s first real boyfriend either. He definitely warms up to Din a lot faster, but he’s the kinda dad who believes NO ONE is good enough for his daughter OR his son, however Din’s “I love you too, Luke” beats Han’s “I know” any day 🤣

Ahsoka is incredibly affectionate with Barriss. For the first few months after rescuing her and sorting out all their issues, she was practically glued to Barriss at all times. Everyone else thought this was absolutely adorable. Barriss still doesn’t know how to feel about it and gets incredibly flustered whenever Ahsoka acts that way around her (read: all the damn time).

I mentioned in the last post that Lionel and Obi didn’t initially like Han either but then backpedaled with another post bc I realized Lionel would actually more likely warm up to Han pretty fast, and now I think Lionel would absolutely take over as Young Han’s parent and end up roping Obi-Wan into it whether he likes it or not. At first Han is like “I don’t need a damn parental figure” but eventually leans into it and lets himself be loved by this incredibly weird little family that has Claimed him as theirs.

By the way Ben would absolutely love having Han as an adopted older brother. So she can torment him ofc.

Also Ben is the shortest of all the kiddos, by a lot. Makes sense because she’s the youngest but even compared to Luke and Leia there’s still an incredible height difference. The twins sort of got evened out with Anakin’s Tol Genes vs Padmé’s Smol Genes, meanwhile Ben got stuck with Nel and Obi being pretty much the same height and despite both of them being “average” she still ended up Tiny. She is not happy about this at all.

I intend to write a short fic about this one in particular, since it never really got sorted out in TLOLS, but I would imagine Lionel wouldn’t really care that much about Anakin’s whole “not just the men but the women and the children too” thing. Don’t get me wrong, they don’t condone brutally murdering an entire population, but they admittedly have less of a moral compass than Anakin and would be like “well they tortured your mother to the brink of death and then left her to succumb to her injuries so valid tbh, I’d do the same if they did that to my mom” and Anakin would be like “I murdered fucking all of them??? Even the ones that weren’t involved at all??????” and Lionel goes like

“What do you want me to do? You know I’m down for murder anytime, how’s this different?” “NEL.”

I can’t remember how much detail I went into on the last headcanon post, but I’m too lazy to check. I know for sure I talked about Padmé being a good swimmer & loving the water, and may have mentioned Anakin not liking water much (?), but I came up with the Even More Hilarious Idea of Padmé being the only one out of herself, Ani, Nel, and Obi-Wan who actually enjoys swimming, while the other three all have a fear of water to some extent. I’m imagining Padmé in the water near the Varykino Lake House like “come in! It’s lovely :)” and Anakin, Lionel, and Obi-Wan all huddled on the shore like “… No.”

Ahsoka on the other hand would probably dive right in headfirst, no second thoughts about it, like “HELL YEAH WE NEVER HAD OCEANS ON CORUSCANT!!!” and Barriss glances up from the book she’s reading in a beach chair several feet away (bc she too wouldn’t dare go near the water) like “Ahsoka, this is a lake, not an ocean” and Ahsoka just shouts “EVEN BETTER!!!!!”

Although I can see Ahsoka eventually coaxing Barriss into the water in one way or another - meaning: picking Barriss up and making her sit on her shoulders as she wades in until the water touches Barriss’ toes and she straight up screeches like a banshee. Long story short, Barriss was not amused by this idea and Ahsoka learned her lesson about how NOT to get her girlfriend into the water the hard way.

The one thing Ahsoka regretted about not rescuing Barriss sooner was that she didn’t get to see the twins and Ben as babies. However she made up for this by showing Barriss the hundreds - perhaps thousands - of pictures she took of them as babies, bc well, the girl has permanent baby fever and loves kids, and she loves her nieces and nephew with her whole heart. Barriss just sits there with a wonderfully contented smile and says nothing as Ahsoka rambles on about each and every photo, meanwhile Luke, Leia, and Ben are all yelling “AUNTIE SOKA, YOU’RE EMBARRASSING US!!!”

Oh, and the first time Barriss got referred to as “Auntie Barriss” by the kids, she cried. Hysterically. She was literally so happy that these kids saw her as family. Ahsoka had no idea what to do about it so she just ran around wringing her hands and asking what’s wrong meanwhile Barriss Cannot Speak from crying of joy. 🥺

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (36)

Author’s Note: Hey again! Surprising you all with a new chapter a week apart. I had to cut the last one short and this one short as well, essentially dividing one chapter into three. This doesn’t mean the wordcount is short. This one comes in just under 10,000. But keep your eyes out for the next part. I also wanted to drop my linktree here: linktr.ee/anerdinallherglory so it’s easier to find all my info in one place. Please go and check it out! I am also looking for beta readers for my own personal novel. I’m even considering starting a newsletter or posting it back on Wattpad as a pre-published draft, but haven’t decided on that 100%. I will let you all know as soon as I decide. The tracks I recommend for this chapter: 1) Let Me Touch Your Fire by ARIZONA and 2) Daylight by Crypto/DEIIN. Thanks again for reading! 

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35

Chapter 36: Demons

When Sasuke stepped into the brothel disguised as a bathhouse, an empty room greeted him. Not a single soul was in sight, and Sasuke wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but the place being deserted was the worst possible outcome. It meant no traces, no answers, and Sasuke dreaded finding Sakura’s trail end in this damned place. It also made his stomach knot at the thought that this might be what the room typically looked like on an average night considering the private and concealed activities that occurred in separate chambers.

Despite the absolute darkness, Sasuke could make out giant undisturbed baths beyond the reception counter, the water a still onyx glass as if the baths were only there to serve as a display, never to be used. And that’s probably exactly what they were: a lie to disguise the truth of what this place actually was. Only Sasuke’s Sharingan could make out the alcove, the inconspicuous hallway in the back that Sasuke crept toward in the shadows. 

His visual abilities revealed the outline of the door at the end of it, where someone without visual prowess might find nothing but a wall. Sasuke placed his fingertips against it to push on the barricade, not detecting any sort of seal or rigging to prevent it from opening. Sasuke wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t considering this particular establishment housed regular citizens and not ninja. If ninja did inhabit the space, Sasuke figured that it was for a short, purposeful visit, not long-term residency. The door gave to his pressure and a faint light glowed through the opening as Sasuke silently slid the door until he had had hairline’s width to peer through. 

A group of women were the first thing Sasuke noticed, all gathered in the middle of the floor, some holding candles in various states of distress. Muffled, crying sounds reached his ears and Sasuke naturally found the dimly-lit faces where the noises originated, paths of light-reflecting tears striping their painted faces. There were also lavish styled chairs scattered throughout the room, some tipped on their sides and others still erect in rows.

A gruff male voice interrupted the women’s soft, plea-filled weeping and Sasuke’s uncovered Sharingan eye instantly narrowed as he located three supervising figures that towered over the distressed girls. They stood just outside of the candlelight between Sasuke and the group they were terrorizing, their shadows passing in front of the light source which made it very easy for Sasuke to trace their movements, even without his Sharingan. Their mistake, Sasuke thought to himself, as the words became more substantial. 

“There must be something else that she said,” hissed one man as he reached forward and fisted one of the older woman’s robes, yanking her forward from the group. The other girls screamed, clutching at the dangling woman and halting her movement forward. One girl was kicked down by the man because she dared to stand before him in an attempt to wrestle the woman from him. “You’re the Mother, aren’t you?!” he spat viscously in her face. “How could you make such a mistake? You let the enemy in, and you will pay for it!”

“We already told the last group of men here,” the woman gasped, tearing at the sleeve of the arm that held her in the air by her throat. “She’s gone to the Land of Fire’s border. That’s all we know. Please let me go.”

“Where?! Where at on the border?” 

“We don’t know!” a fair-headed girl pleaded, crawling forward to the man’s feet to look up imploringly into his shadowed face. “That’s all she said after she took the men away.”

“There must be more,” another man spoke, coming forward to respond to the girl and glare up at the hanging woman, too.  

Sasuke waited, dampening his eagerness to intervene. A situation such as this one was not typically one to cause any sort of reaction from Sasuke, but as his conscience had come back to him over the years after the Fourth Shinobi World War, these types of intimidation tactics on people who didn’t deserve it were the sort that pissed the Uchiha off in an unforgiving sort of way. But he couldn’t be too rash, considering the information he, too, was receiving from the exchange. Unfortunately, Sasuke was still the sort of person who would let that woman dangle for an eternity if it meant that he would get the answers he needed about Sakura’s actions and whereabouts. But at the same time, Sasuke was desperately hoping she knew nothing.

The woman choked, face purpling. She was beyond being able to speak now, her body no longer receiving the oxygen to use words, so the girls huddled on the floor made implorations on her behalf. 

“Stop this! You’re killing her!” 

“Give me more information and she we will live!” the man shouted down at them. “Or stay silent and she dies!” 

Another minute of silent crying had Sasuke’s hand itching toward the door, not certain how much information there was left to learn. Their tactic worked as intended, however, and Sasuke stilled himself once more when a dark-haired girl shuffled forward on her knees, barely old enough to be considered a mature adult. With beseeching hand movements, she disclosed, “I’ll tell you everything. Just let her go.”

“Talk first!” snarled the offender, shaking the matron for good measure. 

“All I know is that she dyed her hair after arriving. She’s in disguise,” she confessed with a shaky voice.

Finally receiving a scrap of intelligence, the man threw the matron toward the group of girls and there was more shrieking as she landed roughly among them, and their hands all scrabbled in unison to catch and break her fall. The matron coughed violently as color began to return to her face. 

“And?” the man enticed the young girl to continue, leaning down to fist her dressing gown next. 

The young girl returned his gaze with a fire that wasn’t there before. Now that she had replaced the matron’s spot in the face of the zealot, she laced her next words with venom. “And,” she murmured. “She’s going to kill every single one of you bastards.”

There was a loud strike against flesh, but the sound was infinitesimal compared to the crack of lightning that suddenly struck and shook the ceiling above them. Everyone fell to the ground at the sound, covering their ears and crawling toward one another instinctively. Even the three men crouched in surprise, but they were the first to recover, casting their eyes about wildly. 

As the three extremists turned to assess the room’s entrance, the door that separated them from the Uchiha was now fully open, the darkness of the hallway consuming all of Sasuke’s person except for his unconcealed blood red eye. When he stepped into the room, the three ninja prepared themselves to face the new threat, which was a mistake, because all three of them locked eyes with red and purple. 

Without a second of passing time, the three men fell back to their knees and their screams were positively delicious sounds as they succumbed to the horrors Sasuke had planned for them in his genjutsu. They would suffer and the chakra it cost the Uchiha to do it was worth it based on their screaming alone.   

The girls scrambled to collect the candles they had dropped out of fear when the lightning had struck, each of them desperate to claim some light to reveal what monster had just stepped into the room with them. When the youngest girl successfully secured one, she brought it to her face only to reveal Sasuke’s dark outline standing before her. When she looked up into his Sharingan, she dropped the candle once more. 

“The devil,” she whispered, speaking the word as if doing so had sealed her fate. “He’s finally come for me.”

Panicked gasps, crying, and prayers fabricated into existence around Sasuke as the other girls beheld the apparition of him for themselves, a phantom of black and red and purple delivering punishment to the three begging men now behind him.  

Sasuke crouched before the young, dark-haired girl, the very one who had revealed information about Sakura to the three anti-peace members, all of whom would soon not be able to remember anything but Sasuke’s katana as it penetrated their bodies over and over. How fitting a description, Sasuke thought to himself as he remembered Itachi, whom the genjutsu he now used was modeled after, how devil-like the Uchiha clan became when they were set on protecting something they cared about.

“Not for any of you,” Sasuke responded coldly, wasting no time to reach for her terrified face over the flickering circumference of the discarded candlelight between their bodies. When he clutched her chin between his fingers, her eyes widened in fear, which was positively advantageous for the Uchiha as he peered through them to search her memories. 

Sasuke moved through this girl’s memories just like the phantom she imagined him to be, gliding through the very sins she committed tonight until he saw the scene he was looking for: Sakura’s face coming into view as she entered into the dark room in which this girl and a man were coupled on a lounge, both still wet from the bath. They were wrapped in one another’s arms, exchanging sweet whispers to each other in the dark. 

Sakura seemed surprised by this fact, as if she hadn’t expected to find them nestling into one another there. Sasuke watched his teammate hesitate for just a moment until a needle sank into the man’s flesh. The girl from whose eyes Sasuke watched his former teammate, gasped at the sudden attack. Untangling himself, the man swung in Sakura’s direction. “You,” he had hissed. “You’re—” he began before falling to the floor lifelessly, incapacitated by the drug that Sakura had injected him with.

Sakura stared down at him for a moment, eyes flashing back toward the girl, before she reached down to flip over the man’s body, so that he could breathe freely. 

Sasuke couldn’t focus on anything other than the raven black of Sakura’s tinted hair. A small part of his heart wanted to linger on the scene, imagine a child with Sakura’s features and Sasuke’s hair. He fisted the emotions and shoved them back, resuming the memory. 

“Hae, what are you doing!?” screamed the girl, scrambling from the lounge onto the floor beside the man. 

“I am sorry, Tabi.” Sakura whispered, biting into her thumb and performing a summoning jutsu that Sasuke was too familiar with. Katsuyu, Sakura and the Fifth Hokage’s summoning familiar, materialized into existence on the spot on the floor where Sakura had pressed her five-fingered seal. To Tabi’s extreme horror, the slug, human-sized, began to encapsulate the man she desperately tried to shield away from the creature. But her hands disappeared into the mucusy flesh of the gastropod, failing to gain any purchase.

“Who are you?! Why are you doing this?” she cried, backing speedily away when the creature began to absorb her hands as well. 

“There’s not much time to explain,” Sakura replied, coming to bend down before the girl. Sakura knelt before the girl, revealing a small canvas bundle of small bottles, needles, and medicines. “I’m not really in this business as I made all of you believe. I’m a doctor and I only have a few minutes to help you.”

When Tabi said nothing else, just stared at Sakura in confusion, she asked carefully, “Do you suspect that you’re pregnant?”

Tabi’s mouth fell open at the revelation and her hands moved to her stomach at the mention of pregnancy. The tears that began to fall from her face was confirmation enough for the medic. She asked her next question. “Do you want to keep it?”

“What?” Tabi asked, wondering how the woman before her could have suspected something Tabi only was beginning to experience the symptoms of. 

“Do you want this baby? There are ways to—”

“Yes, I want it!” Tabi cried, hugging herself and flinching away from the unrolled canvas parcel of vials as she began to see the collection in a new light. “The baby is mine and—” she protested, turning back to the man who was now completely encased by the slug. “What are you doing to him?!”

Sakura’s eyes flicked over to the man and only Sasuke was able to recognize the regret in them. “He’s one of the members of Zenshin,” Sakura informed the distraught girl. “It’s my mission to eradicate the organization.” 

“Please,” Tabi begged, grasping Sakura’s arms with her hands, stilling them over the bag of medical supplies. “You can’t take him. He’s different from the others. We love each other.”

Sasuke saw Sakura chew her lip in thought, rerolling the canvas bag into a tight parcel. He instantly knew Sakura was thinking of him, his face flashing in her mind as she faced Tabi. The confliction there let Sasuke know exactly what she was thinking. Just as Sakura so desperately wanted her own happy ending, she also wanted Tabi to have hers. But her eyes hardened, and she removed her arms from Tabi’s hands. In that very same instant, the slug dematerialized into nothing, taking the man with her to wherever the slug disappeared to. 

“If Toka loves you, he will come back to you once I am finished with him,” Sakura divulged, looking pointedly at her stomach. “Does he know?”

Tabi shook her head, more tears streaming down her face. “I was going to tell him once he left them. He was going to do it soon—run away with me.” 

Sakura nodded and shoved the canvas bundle into Tabi’s shaking hands. “Give these to the other girls and have them follow the directions inside. I don’t know how well you guys are taking care of yourselves here, but there are medicines in here. To prevent pregnancy— and to protect yourselves from diseases. As a medic, I can’t leave here without doing at least this.”

Sasuke flinched at the scene before him, knowing that Sakura had carried that on her person, probably having prepared it in advance for this very mission in this damn brothel, intended for her own personal use. Sasuke had never been so close to wanting to vomit in his life. He wanted to reach through this memory and grab her arm and force her to explain all of this to him. Why would she take such risks for a mission—abuse herself in this way?

“Where are you going?” Tabi beseeched, focused more on the fact that this parting gift meant Sakura’s immediate intentions to depart along with the man she loved. 

“The border of the Land of Fire,” Sakura responded without hesitation as she met Tabi’s gaze with hers. “You can tell that to whoever comes asking questions,” the woman who Tabi had believed was named Hae added. “It’s the truth and it’s not a secret. Let them come.”

Sasuke closed his eyes at the intentional crumb she had left for the enemy. She had probably told every girl who had asked this information the same response. It was obvious that she was luring whoever was left of the organization out of Tanigakure. They had more of a personal vendetta against her now after her actions tonight and would definitely pursue, especially since they believed she was acting alone. It would be perfect for them, to eliminate their Number 1 and get revenge in the same motion. The temptation to chase would be too great.

As Sakura stood and headed back for the door, she turned back to Tabi, who was still kneeling on the ground and clutching the bundle of medications to her stomach, shielding the small flutter of life that had started there. 

When Sakura’s eyes met Tabi’s, Sasuke suddenly felt as if Sakura were looking beyond them, into the memory itself until her eyes met Sasuke’s within. “In case you’re watching this, I can handle this alone. I don’t need your help.” Sasuke felt Tabi’s confusion as the girl failed to comprehend Sakura’s last words. Sasuke, however, knew exactly who those words were for: the Uchiha, himself. So, she knew. Sakura had known that he was here in Tanigakure searching for her. She had predicted that he would track her to this place and perform this very jutsu. 

When Sakura closed the door behind her, leaving Tabi to sob uncontrollably to herself, Sasuke rewound the memory further, past the indecencies between the girl and the man called Toka, until he was watching the same man spin Sakura in front of a crowd of lust-hungry brutes. Sasuke froze the scene before him, eyes narrowing as he memorized each of their faces. One man came forward and grabbed Sakura, pulling her into his lap. His eyes were tightly bound, and the blind stranger leaned his mouth against Sakura’s ear in the dimly lit room. To Sasuke’s extreme dissatisfaction, Tabi had not heard, and therefore Sasuke could not decipher what the man had whispered in his teammate’s ear. Sasuke was beyond disappointed to miss the very words that he would repeat to the man as the Uchiha eviscerated him. The memory of Sakura ended once more as Toka led Tabi away to their private room. 

Thoroughly enraged at what he had just witnessed, Sasuke cursed to himself as he released the young woman’s chin. Tabi gasped when Sasuke retreated viciously from her mind, and she fell back on her wrists away from him. Sasuke’s crimson gaze fell on every girl who clustered in the darkness, gaping openly at him in terror, and he couldn’t help but picture Sakura in all of their faces. They, too, had been feasted upon by the eyes of despicable men, dragged into laps and so much more. In another life and in different set of circumstances, who knows if Sakura might have ended up trying to earn her living doing such a thing, too. He pitied every woman who had no other options. Sasuke would not consider himself a sentimental or feeling person. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to turn on his heel and vanish from the room in the same manner in which he had appeared, letting his fire-style impede the very building in which he stood. But he wavered, glancing down at the tiny swell of Tabi’s malnourished stomach. With his Rinnegan, Sasuke could see the tiny orb of light there. It pulsed like a tiny, throbbing sun.

Leaning fully into the devil character they believed him to be, Sasuke did something very much unlike himself. He took the time to say, “Leave this place and do not come back. Every single one of you.” He turned back down to Tabi once more and said, “Your child deserves a peaceful world. The next generation does not need to suffer for the sins of their parents.”

And then Sasuke, like a demon specter made of shadows, turned and vanished back into the blackness of a hellish night. 

.

.

.

The downpour lasted long into the night and Sakura swore at her bad luck. Sakura had quickly snagged a set of clothing from one of the smaller ninja that she had rendered unconscious back at the bathhouse. Even still, the man’s clothes hung loosely on her thinner, angular frame and Sakura had apologized to the palm-sized version of Katsuyu that clung to Sakura’s skin at the slug’s initial repulsion to the smell of the stranger’s attire. Sakura hadn’t had time to find her original set of clothing once her mission had begun; the tight-fitting robes from the bathhouse had been insufficiently insulated, so Sakura had tugged on one of the radical’s dark pants, black jacket, and matching vest in the presence of one of the horrified girls without explanation as the girl watched Katuyu absorb another person and whisk them away. Strategically, Sakura had even adorned her forehead with the five-spiral headband tucked away in the man’s vest just in case it was slightly advantageous to do so. Sakura had only seen the forehead protector twice before, but more recently caught a glimpse of it in the desert when Mako was thrown the identical headband for successfully kidnapping her. 

With her shadow-colored hair tucked hurriedly under the jacket’s stiff-fabric hood, Sakura pulled the shirt’s loose-fitting collar up and over her nose so that only her eyes and the headband were visible on her brow. She had hoped such a disguise would at least get her out of Tanigakure unnoticed in the night. Surprisingly enough, Tanigakure’s “peaceful” reputation and open access to travelers made it relatively easy for Sakura to locate a small mountain path that exited the village undetected. The kunoichi also allowed herself a moment of pride, because not being stopped also meant that she had been quick enough with the execution of her plan. She had handled any immediate threats back at the brothel, making it out before any other Zenshin members could discover the cookie crumb she had left behind for them to find. 

It was dark, and the rain was merciless as Sakura skirted the side of the mountain, taking refuge from the rain in the dense tree cover that blanketed the landscape. The tree limbs bowed beneath the weight of her hurdles as she bounded from branch to branch, arms thrown behind her as she mercilessly raced toward the border between the Land of Rivers and Land of Fire. Once she had guided her likely pursuers into the Land of Fire, Sakura would be able to handle the rest of them as she pleased, as recklessly as she pleased. She would no longer have to worry about causing any catastrophes in Tanigakure that the Leaf or the Sand might have to take responsibility for. 

She had expected a pursuit. Mako had told Sakura that there were Zenshin members all throughout the shinobi world—eventually, they would come for her, too—but the remaining Zenshin members in Tanigakure would be absolutely desperate to prevent her from reaching the border. But what Sakura had not expected was the speed in which some of them had caught up with her. 

When Sakura had first picked up on the footfalls that those without the sharpened senses of a ninja wouldn’t be able to distinguish beyond the crashing rain against the canopy above, Sakura had immediately halted her movements in the branches. Tucking her body tightly into the bough of a tree, she contemplated her options as the voices began to near her. Considering that it took Sasuke and Sakura two days of leisure travel to reach Tanigakure from Konoha, Sakura was predicting that it would likely take her a fraction of that time to reach the border—which was located much closer to Tanigakure than the Leaf—at the speed in which she was travelling now. If her estimations were right, it would be essentially six hours, four of which had already transpired since her exit. Could she simply outrun them for another two hours? 

Maybe the solution was something simpler, something E-Rank that Sakura hadn’t used since her Genin days. Sakura thought back to her interaction with the second man she had spoken with at the brothel, “the clown” of the group as Rugo had called him. Sakura’s initial target who had asked Sakura questions, investigating if she were “new, new.” Sakura focused on his features as she performed a transformation. The Transformation Jutsu had its flaws, which is why it wasn’t used too often, especially in the presence of experienced shinobi or those who could see chakra with a visual prowess like the Sharingan or Byakugan, or detect chakra signatures like the ninja, Karin. But a confrontation was going to be inevitable regardless of whether or not Sakura could fool them with a jutsu; she would just have to face them head on sooner than she had wanted. If it were the latter, then the jutsu possibly failing was a moot point, so there was no harm in crossing her fingers and going for it. The jutsu wouldn’t have to be flawless to be effective.

She could hardly assess them, the rain a thick sheet between herself and the enemy. There were three of them, all cloaked and protected from the elements. The low number made Sakura suspect that this was one of many search parties and their likelihood of finding her had less to do with their skill at tracking and more to do with fact that at least one group was going to guess her direction of travel correctly and encounter her by chance. She waited until they were practically under her perch to make her choice. 

Without a second more of hesitation, Sakura dropped several feet in front of them, shouting in a voice that had thickened into that obnoxiously loud tenor from the brothel. “I think she went this way!” Sakura didn’t wait to hear a response as she darted forward into the night. 

“Araki?!” came a woman’s voice as she was the first to recognize the man whom was Sakura’s current disguise. The female immediately followed as she continued to shout after who she believed was her fellow Zenshin member. 

“Hurry!” Sakura screamed back in reply but did not slow her pace for them. One of the Transformation Jutsu’s innate failings that made it unfavorable to use, was that it was difficult to converse with others or perform other mental feats because a ninja had to pour a lot of focus into channeling chakra into maintaining the transformation. It’s the very reason why a lot of transformations didn’t last too long; some people were better at executing it than others. It wasn’t overly difficult for Sakura to engage in conversation while transformed, but she didn’t know her enemy very well or their various jutsu and talents, so she decided to take advantage of the chase element of their interaction to avoid super close proximity. 

Like shadowed hounds that thought they had found one of their own kind, they pursued after Sakura, barking after her as their feet collided with the ground, thinking they were joining the hunt when in fact they were chasing the very goose they were after. 

“How do you know she went this way, Araki?” a male voice called up to her through the thundering rain, and Sakura barely made it out. 

“She’s making a run for the Leaf Village, but we have to catch her before she gets too far over the border!” Sakura called back with the same arrogant confidence Araki had spoken to her with at the brothel.

“How did you escape? Weren’t you with the others at the bathhouse? What happened to them?” the woman’s voice called out again, firing questions off faster than the rain could fall from the sky, and maybe Sasuke had started to rub off on Sakura the past couple of months, but the relentless inquiries were beginning to annoy her.

Sakura didn’t know if she should even attempt to respond. She knew very little about this Araki’s personality, other than the fact that he was loud, bold, and talked incessantly as well. But Sakura was not comfortable sustaining an unrehearsed act for long segments, and was unsure exactly what types of ridiculous comments were normal for the man. A little too late, Sakura wondered if Rugo or Toka would have been a better choice to impersonate with their various stoicism in comparison to Ataki; their seriousness would have suited Sakura’s current circumstances better. As a side note to rationalize her choice, Sakura wasn’t too sure about how Rugo’s blindness affected his abilities, and Sakura naturally wanted to steer clear of casting Toka in more of a negative light in case he really was trying to cut ties with Zenshin as Tabi had claimed. 

“We have to move faster!” Sakura deflected, pretending not to hear them as she bounded further ahead of them to create a safer distance between them.

Sakura relentlessly pushed them forward, a shadow before them that they could barely distinguish as it was. She was desperately clinging to the transformation even as she strategically considered her next move. Sakura had crossed the river she and Sasuke had camped at on their second night of traveling together hours ago. She was only minutes away from the border now. For the most part, Sakura had chosen to stick to the same remote path she and Sasuke had taken from Konoha because it was the most recent in her memory and it was a small miracle she wasn’t getting the four of them completely lost in this starless monsoon. At some point over the past hour, she dissected from that trail, travelling northwest for the plains she remembered passing through during a mission with Kakashi, Naruto, and Sai. 

The forest thinned as Sakura neared the space between forests, the sizeable meadow surrounded by rocky plateaus like the very mountain the Leaf was built up against. Seeing such familiar forested landscape, Sakura could have wept in relief. Her lungs shuttered from the relentlessness of her breathing and her legs practically felt numb and cold from the freezing rain, but the pain was absolutely miniscule in comparison to the absolute thrill she felt in her bones when she took her first step across an imaginary line only a ninja who had crossed it multiple times would remember even in the hours just before sunrise. She stumbled to a stop in the knee-high grass, wading through ankle-deep flood waters, stealing herself for what was to come. As much as she wanted to fall to her knees, tilt her head up to face the rain, and not get back up, she couldn’t quit yet. 

The three ninja following her burst from the trees behind, lurching to a halt when they realized their front-runner had finally stopped. “Did you find her!” one called out to her, but Sakura didn’t answer as she turned to face them. Sensing a change, one of the ninja suddenly stopped in his tracks and held his arm out to halt the others. 

“Araki?” he asked, preventing his team from moving any further toward her as she stood unmoving and waiting for them. Sakura wasn’t intending to suddenly act so predatory, her shift in nature causing them to hesitate like all prey before a hunter, but she was just so tired of pretending. She let the transformation fall away and the girl in the group gasped. Sakura could still sense their confusion, and their assessments of her outfit and headband that mirrored their own was almost painful to watch. 

Deciding that the charade was truly well and over, Sakura relieved them of their nervous bewilderment. “Unfortunately, no,” she called back, talking loudly to reach them through the persistent deluge around them. 

“I was wondering why he was being so quiet,” one of the male voices answered, pushing forward to stand in front of his teammates. “It’s her. The Haruno girl. She’s in disguise.” Sakura could hear the girl gasp again before she grabbed onto the man’s arm fearfully to pause his advance.  

Sakura pressed against the inner-pocket of her jacket, whispering, “Are you still with me, Lady Katusyu?”

“Yes, Sakura dear,” the small slug replied, slithering out to greet her despite the rain. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Hang on tight, then,” came Sakura’s instructions as she tucked her back away. “I’ll be sending more your way soon.” 

A laughter broke out near the tree line and Sakura saw one man shove forward, past his concerned and apprehensive teammates. Sakura could make out his flashy, red cloak for the first time now that he was closer in the downpour. “You’ve given us exactly what we wanted—lead us far away where no one can help you, now! I am going to have so much fun beating you within an inch of your life!” 

“What are you waiting for, then?” Sakura goaded, pleasantly surprised when the cloaked man rushed forward despite his teammates’ beseeching council. 

The man charged at her, sloshing his way through the muddy field, and Sakura let him come, let his momentum carry him face first into the punch she had waiting for him. He sailed backward, right into his other male companion and they skipped like scattered stone across the flooding pasture. Even in the dark, Sakura could see the mud [SR1] that sprayed up around them, covering their once distinguishable features in total blackness. That felt so good. After days of secrecy, disguising her power and identity, the release of her physical abilities was positively glorious. Sakura didn’t have a ton of chakra left at her disposal after her repetitive use of the Summoning Technique, but she had the adequate amount remaining in order to take care of these three and anyone who decided to show up later. 

The girl, who had avoided the collision, came for Sakura next, and as she neared, Sakura was able to finally get a decent look at her. Her hair was white beneath her black cloak’s cowl and her brow was adorned with the anti-peace symbol. Sakura wanted to talk to her, ask her opinions and learn her story, investigating her personal vendetta against the peace they had all fought so hard for during the Fourth Shinobi War. The girl quickly began to form the signs for a fire release and Sakura’s eyes widened as the heavy rain suddenly steamed around her as it hit the girl’s body and hissed into hot air. When the floodwaters pooled at Sakura’s feet began to bubble, Sakura cursed as she jumped back and into the air to avoid the boiling water below. At first, Sakura feared that the girl might have the Boil Release Kekkei Genkai, a transformation of water and fire nature energies, but as Sakura began to descend from her fall, the girl met her in the air, and Sakura soon realized that she had a unique fire release that allowed her to direct heat from pinpoints on her body. Sakura’s shielding kick that made contact with the girl’s stomach was instantly scorched through her boot from having touched her, and Sakura hissed. 

“Die!” the ninja screamed, grabbing onto Sakura’s calf muscle with both burning hands and swinging her right into the arms of her knife-wielding companion. But Sakura gripped the man’s arms and simultaneously kicked against the girls’ stomach, deeper into her magma flesh, gritting her teeth at the pain, but directing her immense strength into the blow. The girl went sailing into the trees just as the red-coated man had done seconds before this second confrontation. Using the same momentum, Sakura swung up and over her captor’s shoulders, slipping easily from his grasp. 

She landed behind him, a dark-haired, broad-shouldered man with silver pupil-less irises that reminded Sakura of the Kazekage. She saw these eyes clearly despite the darkness and the mud smeared across his face practically made them glow. The ninja turned on his heel to intercept her next blow, his knife catching her cheek just before he also received the brunt force of her physical strength. 

Sakura could feel the water around her already tenderized ankle start to boil again, and Sakura swore, locating the girl with her eyes. Sakura had to admit that this girl was quite literally making it impossible to remain standing on her own two feet. Even if Sakura summoned chakra to the soles of her feet to walk on the surface of the five inches of saturation, Sakura knew that the water would quickly melt through her stolen shoes completely, so Sakura came up with another solution. She wouldn’t let this girl scald her from a distance; if this fire-nature ninja wanted to land another injury on Sakura, she was going to have to get up close and personal, just as Sakura liked it.

Sakura exhaled when her uninjured hand collided with the ground at her feet. “SHANNARO!” she screamed as the entire landscape fractured beneath her, spiderwebbing across the plain until all the rainwater succumbed to gravity, falling down the sides of new projectiles of earth, and down into the fissures. Sakura perched on top of one of the new pillars like a bird of night, staring down at her three recovered enemies who stared up at her with a new appreciation. 

“You bitch,” the female spat up at Sakura, but Sakura ignored her. She fisted the anti-peace forehead protector on her brow and tossed it down to the three of them. She pulled back her hood and looked up into the sky as it fell on her face, the rain fingering her dyed tresses until streaks of black began to run down her chin along with the blood from her sliced cheek. Keeping it always on her person, Sakura reached into her vest and revealed her own shinobi headband, the red one bearing the Leaf Village symbol she had worn as a chunin. She tied it tightly against her forehead and across the back of her ink-dripping crown and thought how fitting it felt to bear her flag now that she was standing in Land of Fire territory. She saw her enemies’ shocked and exchanged expressions when green regenerative chakra began to glow around her knuckles, her cheek, and the various burns on her leg and ankle, healing the damage in seconds. 

“You guys didn’t do a lot of research on your target, did you?” Sakura called down to them. She couldn’t understand it, the surprise. If they were not originally from Tanigakure, who had been neutral, that would mean they had all fought together in the war. So how did they not know every detail about Sakura? Sakura began to collect various pieces of information in her brain and a realization formed. Most of the members of this organization that Sakura had encountered in Tanigakure so far had not been overly remarkable. Aside from the shade she went head-to-head with in the sands surrounding Suna, everyone seemed to know the bare minimum of Sakura’s power. They knew of her, but not what she was capable of. In fact, they seemed content to hang back and relish in the fear created by their superiors, and Sakura suddenly realized why some of them might be interested in a world that created bitter and stronger generations to follow them. They were those ninja who hung back during the war, who let others—the strong and fearless—do all the work because they could not; it’s why they wanted to mimic conditions that would create strength in other ninja for them to hide behind. Huh, Sakura thought privately to herself. She wondered who exactly was taking advantage of ninja like this to kill off others who stood in their way. Who exactly was the leader?

“We know enough to kill you,” the silver-eyed one spoke, and his voice was raspy and menacing. Even his voice reminded her of the Kazekage, along with the sand-weilder’s path to redemption, and Sakura tried not to be distracted as she imagined this dark-haired ninja capable of a future where he could redirect his efforts into a righteous cause. This type of thinking, while keeping her intentions toward others good, would cloud her judgement now. 

“We have to get information from her first and then deliver her to the boss,” reminded the red cloaked one, whom Sakura had all but forgotten was there after she sent him flying for his bold move to attack first. 

The other two swapped looks of apprehension to one another, as if they weren’t sure they were going to be able to restrain and deliver blows to get her to talk, after all. And Sakura smiled because, she too, knew that wasn’t going to be happening. 

Sakura’s finger bled once again when she bit back into it, and now that the rain had washed away most of her ivory face paint, the Hundred Healing’s seal spanned out across her forehead in black stripes. It was still activated since her very first summoning of Katsuyu, and Sakura could feel the steady drain of chakra from her body that it was costing her to maintain the states of all her captives where she had reverse summoned them back to Katsuyu’s home in Shikkotsu forest. Since Sakura wasn’t having to heal her horde of hostages, but rather, keep them all in an unconscious state, cryogenized in the chamber of Katsuyu’s flesh, the chakra being loaned to her familiar was a trickle, but it was still depleting her already diminishing levels. 

“Are you alright, Sakura dear?” came Katsuyu’s voice from the inside pocket of her vest, the slug sensing her labored breathing and strain on the chakra connection between them. 

Sakura nodded, whispering, “Yes. I have a few more summons in me. If more enemies appear here, I might not be able to hold onto the jutsu. The connection will be severed between us. What happens then?”

Katsuyu’s answer came back as a whisper in the relentless pattering of rain against Sakura’s flesh. “It will take them all some time to come out of comatose. When they do, they will have nowhere to go. The Shikkotsu forest is an endless maze of jungle. They’ll be in the same spot when you come for them.”

“Excellent,” Sakura responded, reaching into her waistband, and withdrawing three vials of sedative. Privately and expertly, Sakura filled three needles with the drug and placed each between her teeth until three needles protruded from her mouth like the fangs of a demon.  Next, Sakura palmed her bloody hand into the top of the jagged steeple of earth on which she still stood and cried “Summoning Jutsu!” as clearly as she could manage with a mouthful of liquid sleep.  

The three human-sized divisions of Katsuyu’s body slithered down the sides of the post and came to a stop when Sakura’s own feet touched level ground once more, the water no longer coagulating around her ankles. 

“Here she comes!” shouted the girl, and Sakura smirked as she sprinted straight towards them through the rain, engaging each one in a pirouette of hand-to-hand combat. 

Just as Sakura had once fought Sasori’s countless puppets on the end of Lady Chiyo’s chakra threads, Sakura took control of her own strings now and navigated smoothly between her enemies’ strikes like a leaf darting on the wind. Deflect, block, strike, defend, parry, punch. The actions were faster than Sakura could even think of which move to execute next, and she let her muscles act on memory alone. 

She could feel the heat of the white-haired girl’s skin every time one of her open-palmed strikes grazed Sakura’s body. She was aiming for the most incapacitating of areas like the eyes, her hands, legs, or any other placement that might cripple Sakura temporarily. But every time the ninja got close to landing a hit on her, the sound of sizzling rain would alert Sakura’s sharp ears to her nearness and Sakura would dodge just in time. Sakura focused on the mud covered, silver-eyed enemy before her, turning to the side to dodge his kunai stab to her stomach. She fisted his own weapon hand with her own and used his own piercing thrust to direct it into the stomach of the red-cloaked shinobi who had come up behind her and fisted her inky, wet hair. She heard his cry at the same moment that the grip on her hair slackened. When the white-haired kunoichi recovered and came at her again, Sakura was ready. Grabbing the silver-haired ninja by the leg as he fell, Sakura swung him like her own weapon, right into the burning arms of his companion. The two of them collapsed into a tangle together, and Sakura’s knee was in the man’s back as she sank his body deeper into the lava skin of the fire-wielding ninja until he began to scream. Sakura used his screams to motivate the white-haired ninja. She would eventually stop her fire-nature jutsu. 

Sakura couldn’t risk incinerating the needle, so she waited patiently, yanking out the syringe of her mouth in the meantime. She saw the girl’s eyes widen at the damage she was inflicting upon her partner, and the melting instantly stopped. Sakura plunged the needle into her neck, followed by a dose for the silver-eyed ninja. [SR2] They both fell unconscious against one another, and two of three Katusyus had already crawled to meet them.  

When Sakura pulled the last syringe from her mouth and turned to face the red-cloaked man who had been stabbed, she was surprised to find him already standing before her in the darkness. He knocked the syringe out of her hand and seized Sakura’s throat, slamming her against one of the pillars of earth at Sakura’s back. The very blade that had lacerated his stomach was now pointing into her navel, still bloody and dripping from his own injury. Sakura’s next move was going to be to knee him directly where his wound bloomed the same shade as his cloak in order to create a safe space between them again. Even if he managed to cut her open, Sakura would use her Mitotic Regeneration Jutsu to heal herself before the blood loss rendered her unconscious. However, his next words made her reevaluate her actions at the last moment. 

“When Mozai finally has his way with you, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it,” he snarled as he pinned her body with his. The knife in his hand dug into her flesh with every word and Sakura hissed at the sudden pain. 

As she reached up to push against his hold on her throat, she choked out, “Who’s Mozai? Is he your boss?” She pretended to weaken at his hold. She needed to keep him talking and feeding her the information she wanted. 

“Someone who will do a lot worse to you than I’m about to do.” His knife suddenly pulled away from her and began to snake up Sakura’s clothing, cutting a trail of blood up her bare stomach. She gritted her teeth against the pain, holding back the instinct to break the wrist around her throat. If Sakura could just get him back on the topic of her choice. 

“He’s nothing without his henchmen. Didn’t you want to know what happened to the others?” she strained to ask next, spluttering the words, trying to regain his attention. 

He laughed, a cruel, wicked laugh that reminded Sakura of the deranged Orochimaru. It was the sort of laugh that alerted her to his madness, the deeper and more dangerous kind of madness that a medic such as herself was easily able to recognize no matter how hard one tried to hide it. “He knows where you’ve run off to, and we will find the others soon enough now that I know your pets have taken them.” He pushed harder against her throat and despite her efforts to remain calm and focus, Sakura’s vision still blackened from the lack of oxygen and her grip on him tightened. In that moment, Sakura barely even felt Kaguya’s small body drop from her clothing. With her squinting eyes, Sakura witnessed the small slug make a dash for the syringe that Sakura had dropped earlier. At the same time, she realized that Katsuyu knew that it was their last dose of sedative and the slug wanted to either protect or retrieve it for Sakura.

The rain was still coming down so hard, a shower soaking every inch of Sakura’s newly exposed stomach. It made the knife he was ghosting her skin with wet and slick as it bounced against her skin, causing knicks and superficial lacerations where it touched. Sakura couldn’t tell if she was only feeling the rain, or the trickling of her own blood. Was it pooling at her feet with the man’s own colors of red? 

“But he won’t mind if I have my fun with you first before he gets here,” came his thickened voice as he placed the hilt of his kunai between his teeth and replaced the pressure against her stomach with his fingers. They caressed her abdomen, smearing the blood there. Sakura realized in this moment that the game of holding back for information was over. 

But before she could act, break his hold on her, and shove him away from her, Sakura’s stomach dropped as her vision came to focus over the man’s shoulder at the shadow that stood there in the rain, red eye flashing as he unsheathed his katana. The rain rendered him nearly invisible in the dark and Sakura sucked in a breath of alarm.

“You’re going to die if you don’t let go,” came Sakura’s hurried warning to the man still inching his hand up her shirt. The vice on Sakura’s throat instantly slackened when a blade came across the man’s throat, not hesitating to sunder the man’s head from his shoulders. Before the damage was inflicted, Sakura’s hand shot out and grabbed Sasuke’s katana just in time, the bite of the blade sliding against the palm of her hand until she stopped its movement completely with her grip. She fisted the quaking blade, and it was immediately abandoned. 

Sakura was powerless to stop what happened next. In the very next second, the man was thrown from her, catapulted near across the field as Sasuke pivoted to ram his fist into the side of the man’s face. Sasuke, too, disappeared as he teleported, switching positions with the bloody kunai the man had possessed. Before the kunai stuck true in the grass at Sakura’s feet, the Uchiha was on top of his victim in a millisecond, and Sakura could hear the man’s screams as she ran toward them in the rain, still clutching Sasuke’s katana in a bloody grip.

“Sasuke, don’t!” she screamed, desperate to reach him in time. Sakura soon realized that the distance the man had been sent wasn’t just a coincidence. It served two purposes: to deliver a harder impact, and to generate enough space from Sakura to give Sasuke the extra second of time to exact whatever revenge he had in mind. The kunoichi spared one minute to find Katsuyu, a bright pinpoint of white in the overwhelming darkness. Beneath the slug, lay the last injection of sedative, and she scooped them both up. 

“Follow me,” she instructed the last of the three summonings of Katsuyu’s body.  

The screaming was Sakura’s only compass in the storm, guiding her to the source of the brutalization. When she finally neared them, two dark obscurities in the night, Sasuke was fisting both of the man’s hands with his single grasp. The black flames of Amaterasu were already ravishing the bones of his ten fingers. 

“You seem awfully fond of these hands of yours,” Sasuke sneered, “let’s begin here, shall we?” The flames spread to the man’s palms and then his wrists, a drawn-out creeping of flickering black that couldn’t be anything other than an intentional deliberateness—to maximize the pain of it. The red-cloaked ninja’s screams were louder than any suffering Sakura had ever heard. 

The kunoichi could see the smirk on Sasuke’s face as she finally came around to face him, and her stomach turned to ice. Even his words delivered a blow to her heart in a familiar way. It was like the Chunin Exams: the ferocity, the visible fury rolling off of him in waves, the embracing of inner-darkness. Sakura had only ever seen Sasuke resort to methods of torture a few times in her life, and the sight struck such fear into her heart. Don’t you see? She thought to herself at the terrifying vision of the Uchiha stooped over the scorching man. Don’t you see what the price of his love will be? 

“Sasuke! Stop! You can’t kill him!” she shouted over the rain and guttural begging, grabbing onto the Uchiha’s clothing, fisting the wet fabric in her fingers. He didn’t budge, just let the fire spread as he watched and drank the pinned man’s screams, as if hearing them would quench a deeply buried thirst. 

When Sakura’s immense strength lifted Sasuke to his feet and pulled him away from the man, Sasuke’s leer twisted into a frown and a different sort of fury filled his eyes. As if Sasuke sensed her impending interference and decided to finish the job before she could convince him to stop, the fire erupted over the man’s chest with a quickening ferocity. At his resolve, Sakura panicked, making Sasuke look at her with two palms to his face.

His dead eyes found her, and he spat a response to her previous demand, “He doesn’t get to live.” 

The earsplitting screams intensified, and Sakura physically shook Sasuke, but he just glared down at her as the flames resumed their feast upon the man’s vaporizing flesh. “You’re not going to do this. You can’t kill someone because of me. I won’t let you go back to that!”

The words broke Sasuke’s carefully controlled anger. “I have spared hundreds today in your name! If it weren’t for you, they would all be dead. One of them can die, and it’s going to be him.”

“This isn’t who you are anymore!” Sakura shouted, willing her words into a truthful existence. She would hold on to him, the Sasuke she loved. The Sasuke who could see reason, act on ninja principles, and not let his emotions override his judgment. Not anymore. As a last attempt, she added. “You can be merciful. You don’t have to kill unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Sasuke scoffed, choosing not to hide his smoldering ire as he broke eye contact with Sakura in order to survey the damage being done to the man who had attacked her. “It’s necessary.”

When he didn’t say anything else, Sakura demanded, “Spare one more. This is my mission and I need him to live.”

After a moment of deliberation, Sasuke snarled, like an animal being forced to give up its kill, and turned his back to her. With the dying of the Amaterasu, the screams turned into painful whimpers as the man spasmed on the ground. 

Sakura knelt beside the man, who now looked at her with desperation in his eyes. A begging for mercy that hadn’t been there earlier, now glistened with tears. “Remember that I spared your life,” Sakura told him, penetrating the vein in his collar with the needle of the syringe. “Maybe one day, a future version of you will deserve it.” The man’s eyelids fell, and even in his unconsciousness, Sakura could sense the relief that came with oblivion. The third slug had appeared by her side, and Sakura watched as Lady Katsuyu began channeling Sakura’s chakra in order to heal the man’s injuries. They were deep, penetrating wounds that would require intensive medical treatment. The draw on Sakura’s reserves zapped her, real fatigue coming over her now. 

“I can’t hold the summoning,” Sakura relayed to the two Katsuyus, one small and gliding over Sakura’s shoulder, the other encapsulating the injured man as the creature healed his injuries. She was the first to vanish, just like all those summoned before. 

“Don’t worry about me,” came Katsuyu’s small reassuring voice. “I can handle the rest until you arrive. Will you be okay?”

Sakura nodded, “Yes. Thank you, Lady Katsuyu.” With the last of the jutsu released, Sakura exhaled a sigh of relief as the drain on her chakra reserves lessened. She caught her breath, sitting in the muddy grass for a moment. 

When she turned to Sasuke, he was standing over her, silently brooding with an emotionless mask slipped back into place. 

Sakura wanted to yell at him for his recklessness. For interfering when she was more than capable of handling this herself. “You have potentially jeopardized my mission,” she informed him bitterly, rising to stand toe to toe with him. 

He didn’t respond, unmoving as he received her rebuke. Even the rain hailed down on them harder if that were even possible. And then the Uchiha was moving, taking her bloody palm, the hand that had come between Sasuke’s killing blow and his victim, between his fingers. She fisted it rebelliously, stiffening her arm, not quite ready to let her anger go. 

And so he grabbed her wrist instead, pulling her with him toward the circumference of trees closest to them. 

“I can’t leave,” she protested, digging her heals more firmly into the ground. She became immovable. “More of them could be on their way. I need to intercept them.” Sakura didn’t know how many more there would be, or what she was going to do to incapacitate them now that she was no longer able to summon Katsuyu. She would have to dig deep, fight until she couldn’t stand, pummeling them until she knocked them unconscious. 

Still not looking at anything but the wrist in which he gripped as if Sakura could be ripped away at any second, Sasuke confessed. “Every person who was headed in this direction in pursuit of you tonight was handled. I shoved each of them into another dimension.”

Sakura’s eyebrows rose as she stared at him speechlessly. For the first time since she observed him, Sakura noticed his heavy breathing. His Rinnegan eye was closed and the Sharingan deactivated, and Sakura recognized the tell of his exhaustion. He had overexerted himself, definitely a sign that he really had transported an unknown number of men through his Rinnegan’s portal tonight.

“At least for now, let’s get out of this rain,” he told her. “There’s a place not far from here.”

Sakura pulled her hand free from his grasp and Sasuke didn’t move to take it again, accepting and mirroring her own frustration. After a moment, he turned, and Sakura followed the coiled back of the Uchiha into the shelter of the trees, allowing him to lead her from the battlefield.  

[rgslings]

Back To You

Pairing: Charlie Cox x Reader

Warnings: fluff, established friendship, comfort?? new writer so bare with me.

Summary: You hadn't seen your best friend in some months due to filming and you thought it was time to make a surprise visit. Little did you know, things would change between you two.

Word Count: 1.8k (short ik D:)

a/n: my first post but this is just a little blurb. i had more ideas for this but i don't know if i wanted to keep writing it or not so if you guys want me to do a second part to this let me know :D thank you sm jess for this idea by the way! (i'm also like HORRIBLE at writing so if this is bad, just excuse me adlkjfdf. i also didn't proof read so :P)

The almost every day visits or the coffees he brought you in mornings when you had a long day ahead of you, turned into the every few hour texts, sometimes small phone calls if you were lucky. Conversations not lasting long, you were craving not only your best friend, but the man who had become your comfort person. You missed his voice, his smile, the way his big hands rested on the small of your back as he hugged you. Most of all though, you missed his presence.

Now you couldn't see him for a bit of time as he filmed for "Daredevil: Born Again". You were so proud of him, you really were, but the distance killed you. More than you thought it should of, but what could you say, he had your entire heart and he didn't know it. You were always so scared to tell him the truth, especially because you felt like the feelings you had would never reciprocate. Not only wanting to see him, but to tell him the truth on how you truly felt, you booked a round trip to New York to surprise him. Deep down you knew you weren't the only one missing someone. He missed you more than you would ever know.

It was currently 12:35am and you sat on your flight, anticipation killing you from the inside out. You were almost in New York and he had no clue where you were. Calling him earlier that night to have a chat for a bit and say your goodnights was were you left off. Little did he know you were about to leave for your flight, but here you sit now, almost about to hit the run way.

Getting off your plane, you stood in the middle of the airport for a minute, letting all your messages catch up to you. What really caught your eye from a quick gaze was the "I love you sweetheart" text he had left for you. Butterflies flew in the pit of your stomach, roaming freely as a blushed creeped up and onto your rosy cheeks. You could always hear the way he called you sweetheart in your head and it constantly replayed. It was truly music to your ears.

Quickly texting back Charlie saying, "I love you too boo:) hope you're sleeping well<3". You smiled at your own text like a kid in the candy store, imagining his face lighting up to your text. It was only gonna be soon enough till you saw him. I mean you could surprise him now, but honestly, you had no clue where he was staying at the time being. So for now, your plan was to surprise him where you knew he'd be filming tomorrow. And to you, you didn't care who was there to watch. You just wanted to see your "best friend".

Hurrying off to hail a cab, you were soon off to your hotel. Each minute closer till you saw him again. You just for sure wanted to get rest before you saw him later that morning.

(time skip blah blah blah :D)

Waking up the next morning, you quickly sat up, a smile instantly blooming on your face. Today was the day you would break your distance and he still had no clue you were there. Reaching over to grab your phone, you ignored most the notifications, as all you cared about was his.

"Hey sweetheart, hope you slept well. Shoot me a text when you can." was what Charlie had wrote to you just only an hour ago. Not replying, you quickly got up to get dressed. Slightly fast walking into your bathroom, you quickly slapped on some makeup to make yourself feel elegant for this small occasion. You knew he didn't care whether you wore makeup or not, but to you, you always wanted to look good for him. You also reminded yourself when packing to pack his favorite body mist of yours, making sure to apply it evenly.

You remembered the first time you had it on, as it was a new scent for you, and the way he wrapped his arms around you. His nose catching a sniff of it on your neck and then and there, that was per heaven to him. After his comment, you never disregarded to put it on, especially when you knew he'd be around you.

Looking in the mirror, you slightly smirked at yourself, knowing you looked hella good. "Okay this is it, I'm gonna go see him," You spoke to yourself in the mirror, a small squeal of excitement coming out in the end. God, you were like a fan girl meeting her favorite celebrity. I mean he was your favorite, who could blame you. Especially with how he looks… especially those biceps.

Quickly shaking your head, you pulled yourself out of your thoughts. You knew you had no time to think about this now, you needed to see him. Grabbing your purse and phone, you slipped on your shoes and slipped out your hotel door. Little did you know, you left your hotel key card inside.

You knew Charlie wasn't filming too far down the street from where your hotel was and that's exactly why you picked it. As you stepped outside the tall building, you took in the bustling streets of New York. "Oh this should be fun," You muttered to yourself as you started walking in the direction of the set. You hated public crowds, especially big ones like this, and deep down, your anxiety had set in as soon as you set foot off the plane. Pushing past your negative thoughts, you slipped in your earbuds, trying to forget the world existed till you made it to your final destination.

Soon enough, you rounded the corner, keeping your distance as you saw them wrapping up for a break. This was the golden time to see him. Waiting for a few minutes as all the crew continued chattering along, you decided to text him.

"Behind you silly ;)", you texted him.

Confused, he turned around, his eyes instantly catching yours, quickly shoving his phone in his pocket. The inside of you was breaking down with tears as you cupped a hand over your mouth to keep the joyful sobs quiet. Running across the crosswalk as fast as you could through the crowd of people, you ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck. You didn't even give him another second to look at you before you latched onto him. He knew how much you had needed him these last few months and it broke his heart when he couldn't be there in person, but now that was all over. It was you and him, right here, right now.

You held back your sobs as best as you could, but deep down, this was what your heart had yearned for on the nights where you were down. These were the same arms you wanted wrapped around you when you wanted to cry, and now, here there were at once. "When did you get here?", Charlie asked surprised, only pulling back enough to look into your eyes. You giggled a little at the confusion in his voice. "Last night actually, but I wanted to rest before I saw you", You responded with the biggest smile on your face. Actually, you didn't know who had the bigger smile.

That was one thing you always loved about Charlie. His smile could always light up a room and it especially always light up your world. Always.

"You shoulda told me sweetheart! I woulda loved to see you last night. I missed you so much," He said cutely, resting his chin on top of your head, pulling you back into him. "Well don't worry, I'm here now. I missed you so much too though. I know you know that," You said replying back, closing your eyes and taking in the moment. Charlie's heart broke on the inside at your words though. It hurt him to know he had to be gone so much. He knew you this is how it had to be and you supported him dearly, but he also knew how much it broke your heart for him to have to be gone. Deep down, he was more than happy you were here. Little did you know, he missed your comfort just as much as you did his.

"Well, you know I don't have a break too long, but we can spend sometime together, maybe order some takeout tonight and chill yeah?", He said, pulling back to look at you again. You nodded your head slightly and stepped out of his arms a little more, giving more friendly like space. "Yeah that'll be grand," You joked, referencing back to one of his other characters he plays. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he hugged you once more.

After spending a little time eating at a cafe on the corner, you spent the remainder of the day just sight seeing. Not doing too much, but you wanted to find something to do since Charlie had to film. Later that night though, you walked to his apartment he had there, after he told you were it was, and knocked on the door. Opening it, you caught his eyes gazing at you a little longer than they should of, but you ignored it and stepped into his apartment.

"It's not much, but what could I say? I don't need much," He said and you laughed at that. "I mean that's true," You commented back, kicking your shoes off and dropping onto his loveseat.

"Man this couch is nice," You spoke up after some silence, cuddling more into it and Charlie chuckled at you. "I agree with you there," He replied as he was typing away at his phone, standing up in the kitchen.

Walking over to the couch, he moved your feet, plopping down with a sigh.

"Hard day love?", You asked with slight concern in your voice and he nodded.

"Better now that you're here though," He said smiling and picked up his phone again. You blushed at his words and tried to hide your face by looking into the distance of the small living room. 2 small book cases built into the cream colored walls as he had a small tv stand in between, flush against the wall. A small flat screen sat on top, a few dvds spread across the top. Few small paintings and posters plastered the walls across the apartment, giving a small flow of artwork. It was a comfy space to you and you quite enjoyed it, even if it was your first time here.

"You good with Chinese for takeout?", Charlie asked out of the blue and you just nodded tiredly. He already knew what you liked, so the topic wasn't much in question. Quietly turning on the tv, he glanced over, noticing your eyes starting to get heavy. Charlie knew you long enough now to know exactly what that meant. Soon you were gonna swoon into sleep.

Charlie lured the blanket that situated on the back of the couch onto your serene body. Man was he in love with you and you didn't even know it.

[anamazingangie]

my cup runneth over ☀️ timeline

This is a timeline for : my cup runneth over by me (AmazingAngie)

Note: 5/12/2024 -- i am making minor edits to the currently published chapters. some secondary names [of dragons, etc.] have been changed and continuity errors fixed. I have currently edited up until chapter seventeen and edited this post to reflect future changes, but if you spot any discrepancies in 18-24, that is why and it should be fixed soon!

This is a non-linear fic that focuses on concurrent relationships between Rhaenyra x Baelon Targaryen and Rhaenyra x Daemon Targaryen (who is technically her stepson). Below you'll find the timeline, chronological chapter organization, and the focal pairing for each chapter.

A brief summary:

In which Rhaenyra isn’t born a Targaryen, but still manages to become both the Realm’s Delight and Queen. Both titles were acquired thanks to her blend of charm and curiosity that seemed to endear her to every dragon she met—whether they bore the name Targaryen or wore scales, it did not matter, their love for her seemed inevitable. 

☀️ 🌩️ 🌥️ 🌙

He had no intention of kissing her before they took their vows—never felt compelled to, but— He would kiss her for his siblings who never grew old enough to know what kissing was.  He would kiss her for Alyssa, who—gods—probably would have wanted to kiss her, too, after a speech like that. He would kiss her for his son, Aegon, who never made it from his cradle. He would kiss her for his eldest brother, Aemon, who would have adored her just as he did. He would kiss her as his mother and father once kissed each other. And for himself, too, because he could no longer resist. (Some day, maybe even some day soon, his son would kiss her too.)

☀️ 🌩️ 🌥️ 🌙 TIMELINE BELOW CUT ☀️ 🌩️ 🌥️ 🌙

NOTE: This timeline subject to change because timelines are hard OK?

This is the timeline I made/use as a guide while writing so events remain consistent within the story, but years are generally not listed within each chapter. 

[It also includes some notes and nicknames for this reason, too.]

There are too many flashbacks for it to make sense or feel natural for me as the write to include dates. Instead I prefer to relate events within a chapter to dates established within the story itself [such as, this happened x years after they got married, he visited when baby was x years old, etc.] 

But I realize peoples brains work differently and might find this more confusing—so here it is all laid out! NOTE #2: This story is told in a non-linear fashion, so reading the timeline may offer spoilers for all currently published chapters and imply events of future ones!

Baelon born in 57AC

Viserys born in born 77AC

Daemon born in 81AC

Aemma born in 82AC

Rhaenyra born in 96AC

[All other characters/Baelon’s siblings/Targaryen’s have their canon dates of birth as specified on the asoif wiki, but they aren’t relevant enough to all list, at least not yet.]

Related Emoji's:

These represent their role, POV/chapter, and sometimes their nickname too.

☀️ = Rhaenyra, [so bright it hurts sometimes but you can't look away]

🌙 = Aemma [not always appreciated but important and softer in the light she brings to the world.]

🌥️ = Baelon, [soft, fluffy]

🌩️ ⚡ = Daemon [loud, unable to be ignored, electric.]

Nicknames: (I regret these but it is too late)

Rhaenyra: little vēzos [by Baelon], princess [by Daemon] ‘vēzos’ means ‘sun’ in high valyrian

Baelon: kepa [by Rhaenyra & children] ‘Kepa’ means ‘father’ and/or ‘uncle’ in high valyrian

Daemon: my lēkia [by Rhaenyra] [lēkia means ‘older brother' in high valyrian

Daeron: little jelmāzmar [by Rhaenyra] ‘jelmāzmar’ means ‘storm’  in high valyrian

Aemon: little sambar [by Rhaenyra] ‘sambar’ means ‘cloud’  in high valyrian

Aenys / Babies: little ērinnon [by Rhaenyra]

'ērinnon' means 'victory' in high valyrian

Events that have been established in story so far [as of chapter nineteen]:

93AC: Baelon visits Vale to meet Aemma 95AC: Baelon visits Vale to meet Aemma (again) 96AC: Rhaenyra is born 96AC: Daella dies [when Rhaenyra is born] 98AC: Rhaenyra comes to King’s Landing 98AC: ^Aemma / Viserys are married*

at this time [of wedding, in 98AC]: Rhaenyra is 2 Aemma is 16 Daemon is 17 Baelon is 41

*Viserys/Aemma’s wedding takes place 5 years later than canon despite birth years remaining the same.

99AC: Daemon marries Rhea Royce 99AC: Rhaenyra sees dragons for first time

100AC: Rhaenyra receives an egg* 100AC: Syrax hatches in 100AC* **just a few weeks between these events 100AC: Alysanne dies (Daemon attends funeral, meets Rhaenyra, again, see chap.3) 100AC: Aegon is born [Aemma/Viserys eldest son] 103AC: Jaehaerys dies (Daemon visits, meets Rhaenyra, again, see chap.3) 103AC: Baelon is crowned in 103AC 103AC: Baelon grants Daemon's request for an annulment (above events less than a week apart) 103AC: Rhaenyra becomes cupbearer AS OF 103: Seasmoke is almost large enough to ride (though not yet) and Laena has claimed Sheepstealer (not ridden, claimed two years earlier) 104AC: Prince Jaehaerys II is born [Aemma/Viserys son] 107AC: Princess Daenerys is born [Aemma/Viserys daughter]

109AC: War in Stepstones presumably avoided 112AC: Baelon/Rhaenyra travel to Dragonstone and announce marriage

112AC: Aegon proposes to Rhaenyra [on same trip] 113AC: Baelon/Rhaenyra are married at this time Rhaenyra is 16/17 and Baelon is 55/56 [first child conceived two months later] 114AC: Prince Aenys II is born Baelon/Rhaenyra’s first child, a year after they marry

114AC-115AC: Events dated in months [1=30 days, 2=60 days, 3=90 days, etc.] by how far they are from Aenys birth. The time between these events is the major change made when editing past chapters. Originally they took place over a 2 month period, now they span 6+! 114AC #1: Aemma visits the week after Rhaenyra gives birth. [when Aenys is 1-3 weeks old] 114AC #2: Daemon returns to King's Landing [when Aenys is 2 months old] 114AC #2: Daemon & Rhaenyra consummate their relationship. [one-two weeks after he arrives] 114AC #3: Viserys/Aemma/Kids visit King's Landing [three-ish weeks after Daemon arrives, they stay for approx. two weeks.] 114AC #4: Daemon & Rhaenyra visit Dragonstone [two months after Daemon's arrival in King's Landing] 114AC #4: Dany turns seven 114AC #4: Aemma oversees Daemon/Rhaenyra together *this event is the focus of chapter eleven. 114AC/115AC #5: n/a 114AC/115AC #6: Velaryon's visit, Daemon leaves for Essos.* *this event is the focus of chapter fourteen

114AC/115AC #6-#7: Daemon and Laena visit Tyrosh* [they stay for 2-3 weeks, receive letter from Baelon during that time] *this event is the focus of chapter twenty-nine 114AC/115AC #8: Rhaenyra is targeted via poison.* *this event is the focus of chapter fourteen

114AC/115AC #8: Daemon and Laena arrive in Dorne.* 114AC/115AC #8/9: Daemon meets Mysaria. * *this event is the focus of chapter twenty-nine

114AC/115AC #9 Rhaenyra is nearly in carriage accident.* *this event is the focus of chapter fourteen [Daemon receives a letter from Baelon during this time] 114AC/115AC #10: Rhaenyra is attacked in Dragonpit.* *this event is the focus of chapter fourteen [Daemon receives a letter from Baelon during this time] 114AC/115AC #10: Viserys is called to King's Landing 114AC/115AC #10: Rhaenyra & Baelon begin trying for a baby. 114AC/155AC #11: Daemon & Laena are in Norvos* 114AC/115AC #11-#12: Daemon & Laena & Mysaria visit Driftmark* *this event is the focus of chapter twenty-nine

114AC/115AC #12: Rhaenyra is shot* *this event is the focus of chapter fourteen AND sixteen! 114AC/115AC #12: Aemma arrives in King's Landing* [5-7 days post attack] 114AC/115AC #12: Laenor visits King's Landing [7-10 days post attack]

114AC/115AC #13: Daemon hears word of Rhaenyra's injury.

116AC: Prince Rhaegar is born [Baelon/Rhaenyra’s second child] 116AC: Baelon has his Lithotomy [within two weeks of Rhaegar’s birth] 117AC: Aemon & Daeron are born [10/11 months after Rhaegar] 124AC: Aemon & Daeron fly for the first time

125AC: Aegon has twin daughter in 125AC [two weeks later] 125AC: Rhaenyra, Aenys, Daeron, and Aemon visit Dragonstone* 125AC Aemon & Daeron learn Daemon is their father* *these all occur at the same time, subject of chapter seven!

[tbc]

[that says Rhaenyra's Children, lol]

☀️ Prince Aenys II is born in 114AC [Baelon is the father, confirmed.] [Has cradle egg/hatchling nicknamed Silvia Sōna.] 

☀️ Prince Rhaegar is born in 116/117AC [Baelon is the father, speculated.]

☀️Aemon [born first] Daeron [born second] born in 117 AC  [named after Aemma and Daella]  [both have dragons, first flew at age of eight, names tbd] [Daemon is the father, confirmed]

-Daeron nicknamed little jelmāzmar [storm, for he has a temper and is often emotional. Has light gold hair, takes after Daemon/Baelon.]

-Aemon nicknamed little sambar [cloud, for he is calm and quiet. Fairer than his brother with silver hair, takes after Aemon] ☀️ Vaelon is born in 122 AC [Baelon is the father, speculated.]

☀️Prince Baelon TBD [Daemon is the father, speculated.] [claims Vhagar] 

☀️ Princess Visenya is stillborn in 129AC  [Baelon is the father, speculated.] ☀️Unnamed Daughter TBD [Daemon is the father, confirmed]

[Aemma is the mother of them all.]

-mentions of miscarriage in fic, not listed!

🌙 Prince Aegon born in 100AC [has dragon, Sunfyre] [has twin daughters in 125AC]

🌙 Prince Jaehaerys II born in 104 

🌙 Princess Daenerys born in 107 [turns seven in 114, when Aenys is 3 months old] [has dragon named Laela]

[deaths that follow canon dates from asoif wiki]

Alyssa died in 84AC Aemon died in 92AC Alysanne died in 100AC Jaehaerys I died in 103AC Visenya is stillborn/dies in 129AC [All of Baelon’s sibling have their canon dates of death as specified on the asoif wiki, save for Saera & Daella.]

[deaths that DO NOT follow canon dates from asoif wiki]

Daella died in 96AC  [+14 years later than in canon] [dies during/after childbirth] Rodrik Arryn died in 122AC  [which may mean his birth date needs to be later than it was in canon, not yet relevant] Baelon dies in 129AC [originally when Viserys dies in canon.]

The main pairings are:

Baelon/Rhaenyra + Daemon/Rhaenyra Secondary pairings [dynamics discussed]: PRESENT: Aemma/Viserys <;> PAST: [because they are dead now]: Daella/Rickard, Jaehaerys/Alysanne, Baelon/AlyssaTertiary pairings [mentioned/alluded to]: past Baelon/Others, eventually past Daemon/Others, very brief Daemon/Laena, brief Daemon/Mysaria

This fic will eventually have more focus on Daemyra than Baelonyra, but it begins with Baelon and Rhaenyra being married after spending her entire childhood together.

Meanwhile, in the present timeline [as of chap #16] Rhaenyra and Daemon have just met, and without that any foundation between them built explicit/romantic scenes with them feel a bit wrong? But they are coming, I swear.

Daemon/Rhaenyra will have a very [the most] active sex life and children together while she is married to Baelon, and they will marry after Baelon dies. But we aren't there yet.

This fic is non-linear though, and you can skip chapters you do not like. The majority of Baelonyra content is from Baelon's POV and chapters involving explicit scenes between him and Rhaenyra are marked below.

(along with chapters that take place before Daemon/Rhaenyra meet, and when their relationship is developing.)

However, if you hate the idea of Rhaenyra loving multiple men at the same time (in different ways, but still), and hate the idea of her with Baelon, this fic probably isn't for you. Because even when she is with Daemon, her experiences with Baelon being her previous/only/first partner shape all that comes after.

Also: There will not be scenes in the traditional threesome sense nor any between Daemon and Baelon!

Unlike all my other fics with multiple partners where everyone wants to do it with everyone, there is no attraction between the two men [Daemon and Baelon]. They are only interested in Rhaenyra.

They may share a bed on very rare special occasions but Rhaenyra has different relationships with them both and no desire to have them at the same time. They might be spectating. They might take turns. But there will not be three of them actively getting off at the same time.

note: there are references to Daemon being bisexual/with men, but Baelon is not one of them, lol.

CHAPTER INDEX

Chapters + Focus + Pairing: key: pre-daemyra = before they met as adults developing-daemyra = falling in love [if it is not mentioned, then it is 'during daemyra']

💙 = Baelon [blue] <> 🖤 = Daemon [dark] ❤️‍🔥= smut <> ❤️‍🩹 = extra angst ☁️ = extra fluff

1. ☀️ Rhaenyra I ☀️ [proposal, first year of marriage, pre-daemyra]

2. 🌥️ Baelon I 🌥️ [proposal, first year of marriage, pre-daemyra]

3. ⚡ Daemon I ⚡ ☁️  [daemon's memories of rhaenyra as a child, pre-daemyra]

4. ⚡ Daemon II ⚡ [daemon meets rhaenyra as an adult, developing daemyra]

5. 🌥️ Baelon II 🌥️ 💙❤️‍🔥 [discussion of having kids, pre-daemyra]

6. ☀️ Rhaenyra II ☀️ 💙❤️‍🔥🖤❤️‍🔥 [pregnancy crisis]

7. ☀️ Rhaenyra III ☀️ [good mom rhaenyra visits dragonstone]

8. ⚡ Daemon III ⚡ [getting to know his stepmom, developing daemyra]

9. 🌥️ Baelon III 🌥️  ❤️‍🩹 [daddy almost dies, has the talk with daemon]

10. 🌙 Aemma I 🌙 [the first time she saw rhaenyra kiss someone, pre-daemyra]

11. 🌙 Aemma II 🌙  🖤❤️‍🔥 [she saw rhaenyra doing a lot more than kissing]

12. ☀️ Rhaenyra IV ☀️ [how i met my stepson, developing daemyra, minor 💙❤️‍🔥 at end]

13. ☀️ Rhaenyra V ☀️  ❤️‍🩹 [angsty, near death experiences and such.]

14. ⚡ Daemon IV ⚡ ❤️‍🩹 [angsty, daemyra-centric]

☁️ 15. 🌥️ Baelon IV 🌥️ [seeing his loves meet, speculating, developing daemyra, minor 💙❤️‍🔥 in flashback]

16. 🌥️ Baelon V 🌥️ ❤️‍🩹💙❤️‍🔥 [angsty, near death experiences, baelon/rhaenyra]

17. 🦁 Tymond I 🦁 [bitter angry man hates the fact Targaryen women have no interest in his furry ass.] 18. ⚡ Daemon V ⚡ ☁️ [getting to know each other via discussion of brothels, ALL developing daemyra!] 19. ⚡ Daemon VI ⚡ 🖤❤️‍🔥 [getting to know each other AT a brothel.]

20. ☀️ Rhaenyra VI ☀️ 🖤❤️‍🔥 [rhaenyra's first kiss with her prince, developing-daemyra]

21. ☀️ Rhaenyra VII ☀️ 💙🖤 [processing the kiss with her prince...developing-daemyra]

22. ☀️ Rhaenyra VIII ☀️ 🖤❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 [hot springs sexy times]

23. 🌥️ Baelon VI 🌥️ 💙🖤❤️‍🩹 [aftermath of being spied on in the hot springs]

24. ⚡ Daemon VII ⚡ 🖤 [bonding over daddy issues with your stepson, developing daemyra]

25. 🌥️ Baelon VII 🌥️ 💙 [memories of alyssa's and rhaenyra's innate ability to make them easier to bear]

26. ☀️ Rhaenyra IX ☀️ 🖤❤️‍🔥 [body image issues, aftermath of brothel, and some breast sucking...]

27. 🌙 Aemma III 🌙 [aftermath of hot springs, a confrontation, and an admission...]

28. 🌙 Aemma IV 🌙 [aftermath of the confrontation, and admission, and daemon leaving]

29. ⚡ Daemon VIII ⚡ 🖤❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹 [daemon's sad boy era in essos, part one, plus some raunchy flashbacks]

30. ☀️ Rhaenyra X ☀️ 🖤❤️‍🔥💙❤️‍🔥 [remembering the first time with her husband, having her first time with his son, and the results of daemon's school for deepthroating.]

31. 🦤 Viserys I 🦤 ❤️‍🩹 [viserys looks back on baelonyra's relationship and looks on in horror in the aftermath of an assassination attempt]

32. ⚡ Daemon IX ⚡ 🖤❤️‍🔥 [daemon has returned at last, and it is time for a good conversation and better fuck...ft. the iron throne]

33. 🌙 Aemma V 🌙 [memories of childhood--both hers and rhaenyra's, both good and bad. reflecting on the father she lost while fearing the loss of her sister]

Chronological order based on chapter contents [though it is not intended to be read this way]:

3. ⚡ Daemon I ⚡  1. ☀️ Rhaenyra I ☀️  2. 🌥️ Baelon I 🌥️  10. 🌙 Aemma I 🌙  5. 🌥️ Baelon II 🌥️ 4. ⚡ Daemon II ⚡  8. ⚡ Daemon III ⚡ 12. ☀️ Rhaenyra IV ☀️ 15. 🌥️ Baelon IV 🌥️  18. ⚡ Daemon V ⚡ 24. ⚡ Daemon VII ⚡  19. ⚡ Daemon VI ⚡ 20. ☀️ Rhaenyra VI ☀️  21. ☀️ Rhaenyra VII ☀️  26. ☀️ Rhaenyra IX ☀️  30. ☀️ Rhaenyra X ☀️ 22. ☀️ Rhaenyra VIII ☀️  27. 🌙 Aemma III 🌙 23. 🌥️ Baelon VI 🌥️  28. 🌙 Aemma IV 🌙  [FIRST HALF] 25. 🌥️ Baelon VII 🌥️  11. 🌙 Aemma II 🌙  14. ⚡ Daemon IV ⚡  29. ⚡ Daemon VIII ⚡ 17. 🦁 Tymond I 🦁 13. ☀️ Rhaenyra V ☀️ 16. 🌥️ Baelon V 🌥️ 28. 🌙 Aemma IV 🌙  [SECOND HALF] 31. 🦤 Viserys I 🦤  33. 🌙 Aemma V 🌙  32. ⚡ Daemon IX ⚡ 6. ☀️ Rhaenyra II ☀️ 9. 🌥️ Baelon III 🌥️ 7. ☀️ Rhaenyra III ☀️ 

[last updated at chapter 34!]

Events by chapter [will i keep this updated? UNLIKELY.]

Chapter One: Rhaenyra POV

Present time in this chapter is 113/114AC when she gives birth to Aenys. 

Look back on 98AC, through to 112/113AC  when she is proposed to and married.

Chapter Two: Baelon POV

Present time in this chapter is 112AC, telling Viserys and Aemma of their engagement. 

Look back on 98AC when Rhaenyra arrived in King’s Landing and the years that followed. 

Chapter Three: Daemon POV

Present time in this chapter is 114AC, weeks after Aenys is born.

Flashbacks are labeled and include: 98AC, 100AC, and 103AC.

Chapter Four: Daemon POV

All present time, 114AC.

Chapter Five: Baelon POV

Present time unclear.

Flashbacks to 113AC / conceiving Aenys [two months after marriage]

122AC / conceiving forth child.

Chapter Six: Rhaenyra POV

Present time, 116AC - twins are conceived with Daemon & Baelon has operation.

Flashbacks: 114AC, confiding in Daemon.

114/115AC, adventures in conceiving Rhaegar. 

Chapter Seven: Rhaenyra POV

All present time, 125AC

Chapter Eight: Daemon POV

Follows chapter four, all present time, 114AC.

Chapter Nine: Baelon POV

Present time, 116AC days post Baelon's operation.

+flashbacks

Chapter Ten: Aemma POV

Present time (?) Focus on Rhaenyra's wedding, 113AC

Chapter Eleven: Aemma POV

Present time 114AC

to clarify events [the days are not exact, but for reference of how much time passed]: Aenys is 60ish days old when Daemon returns to KL Aenys is 70-84ish days old when Viserys & gang visit Aenys is 114-ish days old when Rhaenyra visits Dragonstone.

Chapter Eight:

Chapter Eight: