#I will do something better later- it's dawn now and I feel a little tired

[chocolatepizzaaz]

INK SANS!!!

Yeah? Okay then

Doodle of Ink, I hope you like it, buddy

[i2sunric]

MON AMOUR (p.sh)

pairing: husband!sunghoon x reader (f)

summary: after a tiring day spent following your twin children and doing the chores, what could be better than letting your husband take care of you?

warnings: fluff & smut. unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), they have a daughter and a son, creampie, p in v, dirty talk, meandom!hoon, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, making out, kissing, cuddling. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 3.1k

published: 20th May 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts (one shot) @slut4hee @love13tter @deobitifull @xiaoderrrr @cha0thicpisces @minjaexvz @crimnalseung @skylaly @ensaz008

a/n: based on this ask from anon. hope you don’t mind i changed it a little bit <3 i just love imagining how enha would call their kids (like, in heeseung’s fic, jia 😭😭)

“I want the pink toothbrush!” Your daughter shouted with her high pitched voice, pointing at the toothbrush of the respective colour.

“Alright.” You smiled and handed it to her, “Here you go, Haneul.” 

“And you?” You looked at Haneul’s twin brother, smiling ever so sweetly “I want green.” Yohan answered, his chubby finger pointing at the toothbrush. 

You removed it from the wrapping and handed it to him “Now, brush your teeth, I want them all clean, alright?” 

Both of them nodded and you started filling in the laundry, programming it to function for that night. Spring coming with its perfect weather for the twins to play outside, it also meant your laundry had to work overtime with the amount of mud they get on their clothes.

Turning around, you noticed them arguing over the toothpaste. You shook your head and took it out of Haneul’s hand before she could make a mess and put a little bit on it on both of their toothbrushes. 

Patrolling so that they wouldn’t argue over something silly again, you helped them in their pyjamas and tugged their covers.

With one kiss on each of their foreheads, you whispered “Good night.” And exited their room, hoping none of them woke up for the whole night.

You rested your back against the door, rubbing your temples with a soft sigh. You loved the twins, you had never wished for something as wonderful as them— But it was draining to follow them the whole day and also do all the chores. 

You tried your best not to let it show, Sunghoon surely had it worse, waking up at dawn and coming back later than sunset. It must be so exhausting you didn’t have the heart to complain about your own tiredness.

You walked to the bedroom, opening the door just to widen your eyes when you saw Sunghoon’s figure, removing his blazer meaning he had just come home. 

You smiled “Hey.” You said, closing the door behind your back. 

He raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Hey pretty,” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes trailing along the length of your body.

He threw his jacket on the edge of the chair sitting over by his desk, his eyes not leaving you for a moment.

“You’re back.” You stated, fighting the urge not to add a ‘finally’ and walked towards him, taking the jacket to fold it better.

He watched as your fingers nimbly folded the jacket, a soft smile appearing on his tired face. 

Sunghoon felt the stress of the day slowly disappear from him when he looked at you. He reached out and took the jacket from your hand, setting it down before pulling you close to him.

“I couldn't stay away from you three any longer.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting your head “They kept asking about you.” 

A small laugh escaped his lips and he tightened his arms around your waist in return, “Did they really?” It was rhetorical since he already knew the answer. 

He hadn’t been home early enough to see them for days due to his work and he couldn’t help but feel guilty at the fact. Sunghoon knew that he needed to spend more time at home, with you and his little daughter and son.

You hummed, resting your head on his chest with a small sigh. You had missed the way your bodies mended together, just so perfect for each other.

His warm embrace always made your day better, no batter what hardship you had encountered— He just knew what made you happy.

Noticing that you weren’t saying much as usual, where you would tell him all the things that happened through the day, Sunghoon gently cupped the back of your head, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

“You ok, love?” He asked softly, tilting your head up so he could look at you, his eyes scanning your face to search for any sign of discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head “I’m just tired.” You gave him a small smile, not wanting to worry him much. 

He nodded, understanding that you were going through a lot as well, “Don’t apologise,” Sunghoon mumbled, before pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I think we could both benefit from being in bed right now,” He teased lightly, a smirk appearing on his lips “You worked so hard, even ironed all my blazers.”

“Yeah but you take a shower first.” You pointed a threatening finger in his chest “I just changed the sheets.” 

Sunghoon chuckled lowly, “Then come join me,” He winked, gently squeezing your hip as he stepped back towards the bathroom, not letting you take a moment to respond that he was dragging you with him. 

“Hoon…” You murmured, looking back anxiously, despite the bathroom being private, they still might hear you “We need to be quiet.” 

Sunghoon looked over at you with a cocky smile, unbuttoning his shirt slowly “You know I’ll try my hardest.”

You narrowed your eyes “You never do.” 

He smirked back at you as he dropped his shirt to the floor, “You love it though,” He quipped teasingly, watching you as you stood there, watching him unabashedly.

You crossed your arms “The twins might hear us, I’m not sure they’re asleep yet.” 

“I’m sure they are.” He commented, stepping closer to you and pulling you flush to him once again.

“Besides, it’s you who needs to keep quiet, baby.” He mumbled softly as he leaned down to press a trail of kisses along the side of your neck.

You let out a contented sigh, tilting your head back to give him more access.

His hands slipped under the shirt you were wearing, his fingers gliding over the bare skin of your stomach.

Sunghoon pushed you against the counter, his teeth nibbling your collarbone, leaving small, red marks.

His hands squeezing your hips gently to keep you in place.

He was desperate to have you close again after being so busy for days and his body was missing you.

You let your hands wander all over his bare chest, feeling his shaped muscles. The feeling of your hands all over him made him eager and desperate to touch you as well. 

He quickly grabbed the hem of your shirt, bringing it over your head before tossing it to the side. 

Sunghoon let out a small groan when he noticed you weren’t wearing any bra. His hands found your breasts right away, groping them.

You attached your lips to him and as the kiss deepened, his hands started trailing down to your hips once again, his fingers digging into the flesh. 

Sunghoon pulled you even closer, moaning lowly into the kiss as he grinded against you, his desire for friction evident against your body.

You let out a shaky breath and trailed your hand down to palm his clothed bulge. 

His breath hitched and his forehead rested against yours, looking into your eyes as you palmed him. 

His lust-filled gaze locked with your own and his hand moved to grab yours, gently pulling it away.

Sunghoon had a smirk on his lips as he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist. “Not yet, love.”

You looked at him puzzled “Why not?”

“I want to take my time with you tonight,” Sunghoon spoke gently, his eyes burning into yours. 

One of his hands lifted to move strands of your hair and place it behind your ear. “Just because I haven't been home much doesn’t mean I’ve lost any of my skills. Just relax.” He reassured you, wiggling his thick brows.

“Yeah?” You chuckled “How about you show me?”

Sunghoon’s lips stretched up into a mischievous smirk, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting your hair fall down your shoulders.

He pushed his knee up between your legs, his smirk widening at the small gasp he managed to pry from your lips ”That's exactly what I plan on doing,” He replied.

His knee rubbed up against your heat, applying light pressure every now and then just to tease you. He could feel how hot and desperate you were becoming.

When you felt something sharp on your shoulder, you gasped “Sunghoon… No marks.”

He grinned against your skin, “But you love it when I mark you,” He purred into your ear. 

You lightly hit his shoulder “Still, it’s difficult to hide them.”

Sunghoonleaned closer so his lips hovered over yours, the two of you sharing the same breath and exhales.

”I don't want you to hide them, love,” His eyes burning with desire as he looked down at your body. “I want you to wear my marks with pride.”

You nagged “How will I explain to the twins where these marks come from?”

A low chuckle left his lips as he let his head drop down to your shoulder, his nose rubbing against your skin. 

“They’re too young to know,” He mumbled against your neck, “And these are for my eyes only anyways.”

You rolled your eyes at his shameless he was “You’re incredible.”

Sunghoon’s other hand moved to hold your chin gently so you’d look at him, his dark eyes boring into yours.

His leg moved up again, pressing harder and rubbing up against the sensitive spot he knew you’d moan at. 

“Hoon…” You murmured, unable to grind your hips on his thigh with the way he was holding you.

 “Do you know how much I missed this?” He breathed out, his fingers gently caressing your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his mouth hovering just over yours.

“As much as I did.” You replied and made your lips crash back together, your tongues dancing the ballad of love.

“Please..” You pleaded, feeling your body burn in desire “Sunghoon, please.” 

“Please what, pretty?” Sunghoon asked mockingly, knowing exactly what it was that you wanted, but not giving it to you just yet.

“Stop teasing.” You said desperately “Stop teasing you say?” He grinned, “And just give you what you want?” He murmured before pressing a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear.

“Not tonight, baby. Tonight I want you to take what you’re given and you’ll be grateful for everything I do to you.”

Your body shuddered at his words, just the thought of finally being able to be his all over again made slick pool your panties. You nodded obediently, his husky tone just fuelling your desire.

 “Good girl,” Sunghoon mumbled softly, his hand reaching out to gently pull you forward.

“C'mon, you deserve to unwind after dealing with our babies all by yourself,” He reassured with a warm smile, leading you towards the bedroom.

You walked beside him and laid down on the bed, all bare except for the shorts you were still wearing. You looked up at him with utter lust, your nipples hardening at the sight of his huge bulge poking through his working pants. 

Sunghoon noticed it and massaged your breasts, licking his bottom lip.

Your breath was heavy, your eyes piercing through his body and your pussy aching for his cock.

“I need you.” You whispered “Yeah? Need me that bad?” You nodded, rubbing your thighs together.

Such a sight made his cock twitch in his pants, the fabric becoming more and more tight “Can’t wait anymore, mh?” He said and reached for your pants.

“Lift your hips for me.” He said and you complied, helping him remove them. 

Sunghoon held his body above you, his hands on either side of your head to prevent himself from crushing you. 

His tongue quickly slipped into your mouth once again as he relished in the taste he’d missed so badly.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He kissed your lips, unzipping his pants “I’m going to fuck you so good, put another baby in you.”

He groaned at the memory of your swollen belly, carrying not one but two of his children. The idea of having a third one went straight to his cock.

“Knock me up.” You said, blissful euphoria clouding your senses.

Sunghoon pulled down his boxers and pants, his cock sprung free, angry and pulsating. 

Your hand went down to pump it, wanting to provide him some kind of relief.

He let out a moan, bucking his hips to fuck your fist “Do you want me to prep you?” He asked. 

“No, just fuck me.” You said, impatiently, “Make me yours.”

You didn’t need to say more, Sunghoon pulled your hand away to align himself to your entrance after slipping your panties to the side and then pushed his thick tip inside of you. 

“So wet already.” You moaned out at the stretch, so sweet and painful at the same time until he pushed all of him inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix.

“You feel so good, baby,” He mumbled quietly, his body desperate for more of the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

Sunghoon’s hands gripped your hips as he slowly began to roll his own against your body, setting a slow rhythm for both of you.

You rolled your eyes back, mouth agape as you felt him pull out just to push himself right back into you.

“S-shit baby.” He groaned as he picked up pace “Squeezing my cock so tight.” 

You grasped his forearms, his muscles under your palms “Fuck— Yes.” You moaned, a little too loudly.

“Shh,” He shushed by crashing his lips on your, swallowing your moans “You don’t want Haneul and Yohan to hear you, do you?” 

You shook your head, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. 

Your own hand went down to rub small circles on your clit, bringing yourself even more pleasure.

Sunghoon craved you, your body, your mind, your whole being. He wrapped his hand around your throat and pushed himself deeper, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. 

“My wife.” He grunted “My gorgeous wife.” 

You hummed, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts “I missed you so much.” You breathed out. 

Sunghoon nodded in understanding, claiming your lips once again “I missed you too, baby.” 

Sunghoon squeezed your nipples, making you moan “I’ll take tomorrow off, fuck the company, just want be with my family.” He snapped, his hips moving more harshly against yours.

You didn’t have the mind to reply to his rumbling, his pace along with the feeling of him was enough to make the knot in your stomach tighten. 

You clenched around him, making him curse under his breath “How come you’re still so tight?” He scoffed mockingly “Pushed out two babies and you feel tighter than before— Shit!” Sunghoon bit down his bottom lip to muffle his moans.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him more down to you “Hoon, I’m gonna cum.” You warned.

“I know, pretty,” Sunghoon panted heavily between moans, his pace even faster as he chased his own end. “Cum for me, yeah?” He mumbled, “Wanna feel you come undone for me.”

You tried to hold it back, wanting the moment and the pleasure your husband brought you to last forever— But it had been a while since you two shared an intimate moment and your body wasn’t used to it as much anymore. 

With one particular deep thrust, you came with a muffled moan, your body squirming and back arched. 

Watching your orgasm sent him over the edge and he came soon after, “Fuck, Fuck.” Groaning heavily as he felt your walls clenching around him. 

He emptied his load inside you, coating your insides with his cum “Take my cum, angel.” Sunghoon twitched inside you “Take it all, good girl.”

As you both tried to come down from your high, he laid on top of you, not caring that he was probably crashing your body. You didn’t care as well when all you wanted was for him to stay close.

One of your hands went to brush his bangs out of his sweaty forehead and you pressed a small kiss on his thick brow. 

Sunghoon chuckled, the aftercare sessions always full of giggle and unspoken affection..

“Will you seriously take tomorrow off?” You asked quietly after a while, unsure whether he was being serious or if he was just too in the moment. 

He chuckled, caressing your cheek with his thumb “I’m the CEO, I decide what I want.” He said proudly. 

You smiled widely, a warm sensation spreading inside your chest “Really?” 

“Really.” He promised, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip “We’ll make a big surprise to the twins and after we take them to kindergarten….” He bucked his hips, his cock still inside your warm pussy, none of you wanting to disconnect your bodies.

He leaned down to whisper inside your ear “I’m going to have you all for myself, fuck you full of my cum until you can’t no more.” 

You kissed him, biting his bottom lip harshly “I’m down.” Sunghoon moaned, pulling you into another make out session, your bodies moving at a slow rhythm.

After cleaning up, you laid down side by side, his big body engulfing yours, warm arms protectively around your waist.

You missed all of it, the smell of his cologne, the warm feeling of the sheets around both your bodies, his soothing presence.

Sunghoon traced small patterns on your back “Stop drawing dicks.” You nagged, chuckling.

He smiled and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head “I’m so lucky to have you.” He took your hand in his, both your rings tingling “And I never tell you enough how grateful I am for our babies.”

You snuggled closer to his chest “I’m so lucky to have you too— I wouldn’t have made it alone.”

“I love you so much.” Sunghoon whispered, his eyes slowly closing, exhaustion overtaking him “I love you more.” You murmured back.

[imnotaacat]

I Can Not Do It Without You.

husband!Anthony x fem reader wife.

— Summary: You have been married to Anthony for a year, and you are about to give birth to your first baby. However, after overhearing a conversation between his younger brothers, Benedict and Colin, it makes you doubt whether your marriage is prosperous and honest, which leads to an early and complicated birth.

— Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, fluff at the end, no use of Y/n, mentions of deception. (I think that's all)

A/n: English is not my native language, sorry if something is written wrong, I hope everything can be understood. :)

“It’s funny that she thinks Anthony is still in love with her.” You heard Colin’s voice behind the door, followed by Benedict’s laughter.

That was enough for you to ask the footman accompanying you to prepare the carriage, you would return home. Since a few weeks ago you suspected that Anthony was cheating on you, the last few weeks he began to go out more often with his younger brothers, and of course, there was nothing wrong with it, but it happened every night and he always returned at dawn. And you, who were about to give birth, only wanted to feel protected, cared for by him, but you felt the opposite, he simply left, leaving you completely alone.

“My dear, won’t you stay for dinner with us?” Someone asked behind you, it was your mother-in-law, Violet. “Oh, I really appreciate it, you must excuse me, but I would like to have dinner with my husband.” Violet smiled. “Don’t worry dear, it’s okay, give him my regards.” You nodded and walked to your carriage, the footman helped you get in.

Once home, you entered and began to climb the stairs, as fast as your belly allowed you.

“Honey, you're back, I was waiting for you for dinner.” Your beloved husband's voice said with his beautiful smile at the bottom of the stairs. Something inside your chest stirred. You smiled.

“Oh dear husband, I apologize, but I've already had dinner with your mother and brothers.” You said, he smiled, he loved the way you got along with his family, he couldn't have chosen a better wife. I apologize for not accompanying you, but I feel very tired. — He nodded again.

“Don't worry, rest, I'll be with you in a few moments.” You nodded. You finished climbing the stairs that led to the room you shared, you asked your maid for some help to undress. Once you were ready, you got into the sheets of your bed, but you couldn't even close your eyes. Thirty minutes later you heard your husband's footsteps coming up the stairs, you settled down with your back to the door and closed your eyes pretending to be asleep. You listened to his footsteps and movements around the room, a few minutes later you felt the mattress sink and then the warmth of his body, he placed his hand on your belly, kissed your temple, and got ready to sleep.

About an hour later, he was finally fast asleep, you got out of your bed and left the room making as little noise as possible, you went down the stairs and headed towards his study, you placed the candle you were carrying on his desk and you got ready to look for something, something that would help you, something that would give you a clue about something. And as the saying goes, “Curiosity killed the cat.” In one of the drawers of his desk, you found several newspapers. As you skimmed through them you noticed something. They all had an ad for an opera concert and all of them had one name repeated: “Sienna Rosso.” You didn’t know whether to be happy for having found what you were looking for or to cry for what you had found. The second to last ad was dated two days ago, the last time Anthony had gone out, and the last ad was dated two days from now. You put everything back the way it was, closed the door to the study, and headed back to your room. To your relief, Anthony was still fast asleep.

“Good morning,” you said, announcing your entrance to the dining room. Anthony smiled. “Good morning, dear. Did you rest?” He asked. You nodded, at that moment the maids came in with their breakfast trays, so they began to eat, leaving a comfortable silence in between. — You know… yesterday I saw an announcement, about an opera concert— You spoke breaking the silence and lifting your face to look at him, he already did. — I heard that the girl is very good, I think her name is Sienna… yes Sienna Rosso— Anthony coughed. — And well, I would like to find out for myself, and why not with my dear husband? The concert is in two days, so, could we go? — You asked with a nice smile, Anthony quickly nodded.

“Sure, why not, I have a little work, but I will do it in these two days, so we can go out.” You nodded with a smile.

During those days when the long-awaited night arrived, Anthony, no matter how much he wanted to concentrate on his work, couldn't do it. The only thing he had in mind was your request, but rather, the way you asked for it, your look when you asked him, during their first year of marriage, he had noticed that whenever you asked him for something there was a special sparkle in your eyes, however, that morning he couldn't see it, instead there was something else, your gaze had something dark in it.

When the agreed time and day arrived, you went down the stairs while he went up, you were wearing a Bridgerton blue dress, white gloves, and a pretty pearl necklace, he praised how pretty you looked, he asked you for a moment so he could get ready and go out with you.

Once at the theater, you asked to sit up front, and he accepted without arguing anything, minutes later the concert started, and boy was the girl good, she was wonderful, out of the corner of your eye you noticed that throughout the act Anthony looked at the stage a couple of times, most of the time he saw you, the floor and the ceiling, and of course, anyone would say it was romantic, but you knew it was guilt.

Once the concert was over you told Anthony that you needed to go to the bathroom, he nodded and joined another group of men who greeted him happily.

“Miss Sienna, someone is waiting for you in your dressing room.” A voice said behind the girl as she walked off the stage, she smiled and thanked him with a nod. Finally, Anthony had returned. However, he froze when he saw a female silhouette in his dressing room, you were with your back to her. You were looking at each of her outfits with a smile, and from time to time you touched the fabrics with your hands what caught her attention the most was your belly, you could give birth at any moment, even now.

“Were you hoping to see the Viscount?” You asked still with your back turned, you only heard a low “Excuse me?” before turning to look at her. — I asked if you were hoping to see Anthony. — You asked again, Sienna was surprised that you called him by his name, but it was logical, you were his wife. Seeing that she had no answer you sighed and spoke again. — I know he has come to see you frequently, so I wanted to meet the woman who fucks my husband. — You said with a forced smile on your lips. Sienna smiled back, she didn't expect the Viscount's wife to be like this, she imagined a silly girl, but no, you were different, you were direct. At that moment something occurred to her, something that would make Anthony come back to her again.

“Yeah well, Anthony comes here often, he even comes with his brothers.” He said with a smile. You just nodded, but anger was growing inside you, how could she call him by his first name? — You know, it's nice that he comes to see me at my concerts but to attend with his wife... it's very bold.” She said with a smile.

“Sienna... I was the one who suggested he come, he came simply because I asked him to accompany me, if he had wanted... or rather... been able to, he would have stayed in his studio.” You saw how Sienna's face fell.

Seriously Anthony had stopped loving her? Just like that? After you two got married he paid you one last visit, where he made it clear that you would never have another meeting. In exchange for various favors, she was able to arrange for several Lords and Dukes to meet Anthony at the theater or places where she would perform. She knew that once they were alone, Anthony would come back to her. Her surprise came when he didn't even look at her, or even notice her presence, and she was accompanied by her brothers. Every time she passed by his place, she heard how wonderful his wife was and how much he was in love with her.

“Listen to me-“ She began to speak, calling you by your name, but you interrupted her.

“For you, I am Lady Bridgerton,” you said. Anthony heard it and went to the place where your voice came from. He noticed that you hadn't returned from the bathroom, so he decided to make sure everything was okay. He followed your voice, down that path that he had walked so many times a few years ago. — You can fuck Anthony as many times as you want, it's fine, but listen to me, I'll be the only one that Anthony will present as his wife, I'll be the one who will have his children, his heir, my children will carry his blood, my children and I will be the ones who will wait for him at night to have dinner, I'll be the one who will see him walking arm in arm through the parks, while you... you will simply meet him at night, when everyone is already home, you will stay in the dark, hiding, making sure that no one can see you. — Sienna was definitely speechless, after hearing everything you had said, you were right, he would never leave you for her. Anthony, who had heard everything while walking towards you, was proud to hear what you had said, you didn't even raise your voice, much less attack her to leave her speechless.

“Whatever you say Anthony loves me-“ Once again she was interrupted, this time by Anthony's voice.

“For you, I am Lord Bridgerton, I will never allow you to call me by my name again, our relationship ended a long time ago, Miss Rosso, and that day I made it very clear to you that I would never return to you again.” You smiled at the look on Sienna’s face in front of your husband’s back. — If you will excuse us, the Viscountess and I must retire, good night, Miss Rosso. — He said, giving you his arm so that you could walk with him, and said goodbye to the friends who were still there.

Anthony helped you get into the carriage and once inside silence reigned between you, you were sitting face to face, so Anthony could see how your eyes began to get brighter and tears began to appear in your eyes. He felt guilty, guilty because he was the reason for those tears.

“Honey I-” He started to speak but you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear anything Anthony.” He nodded. Once at home he helped you get out of the carriage and both of you climbed the stairs that led to his room.

“Marie, please tidy my room, I’ll be staying there tonight.” Your maid nodded and took from both of your rooms the things she would use at that moment and the next day to get ready, you heard a sigh from Anthony, and then his footsteps moving away towards the master bedroom, so you did the same, but in the opposite direction, before reaching your room you felt a pang in your lower belly, you grabbed the wall, Anthony turned and walked towards you when he heard your moan. “I’m fine” You told him when you heard his strides towards you, he stopped and nodded, but as far as he could see after you closed the door, he noticed that you were holding on to the wall as you walked.

Anthony wanted to talk to you, he wanted to tell you that it was all a misunderstanding, his affair with Sienna had ended a long time ago, even long before the two of you got married. Unable to fall asleep, he went down to his study and made himself a drink, then sat down at his desk hoping to be able to concentrate a little and even distract himself from what was going on with his work. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep at his desk.

“Mr. Bridgerton! Mr. Bridgerton please wake up.” When he opened his eyes he felt disoriented. “Mr. Bridgerton” The woman made a small bow. “Lady Bridgerton has gone into labor, but she is in very bad shape,” the maid said just as she heard a scream coming from the upper part of the house. — We have already sent for your mother, the Duke, and the Duchess, the young lady asked for it, and the doctor and the midwife are already with the lady. — The girl spoke as she followed Anthony up the stairs, another scream came from your room, with long strides he arrived at your room, and he saw you there, screaming and writhing in pain, and then he was nineteen again, panic began to bloom in him.

“Lord Bridgerton, the baby is not in position, I need to know what to do, save the baby, or save your wife.” Another scream from you was heard. “I told you to save my son.” You screamed with difficulty. — The decision must be made by the lord. — The doctor spoke. And one more scream was heard.

“Save them both,” Anthony spoke. “Sir, we will try, but-” Anthony interrupted him. “I told you to save my wife and my son,” Anthony screamed. — Yes sir, we will do our best.” And once again the doctor entered your room. Tears began to sting his eyes, just at that moment the doors of his house opened, it was Simon, his mother, and his brothers.

“Simon, Colin, and Benedict stay with Anthony, Daphne comes with me” Violet said as everyone went up the stairs. “Everything will be okay dear, I promise,” Violet said before entering your room with Daphne. The screams were getting louder, and his brothers didn't know what to do, or how to comfort him, Simon was already a father, of course, but none of Daphne's births had been like that, they didn't know what to do.

“Anthony, everything will be okay, your wife is a strong woman” Benedict spoke. There was silence. “It's my fault.” Anthony spoke. “She found out about Sienna, she noticed that I was leaving at night and she thinks I've cheated on her.”

“But it’s not like that, you ended your relationship with that woman, we have been with you so that you could avoid this.” Colin spoke, and Anthony nodded. “And I thank you, I should have told you what was going on” Anthony said, his head down. “I don’t know how you found out, but two days ago she asked me to go to the concert tonight, she had an argument with Sienna, and then when we got back home, she asked to have her bedroom fixed, she complained of pain, I should have insisted that she sleep in our bedroom, I should have stayed awake to take care of her.” Anthony spoke. Your screams still hadn’t stopped, they could hear the voices of the midwife, her mother, and Daphne asking you to push.

Anthony looked at his watch, it was almost five in the morning, and the fear he felt was from another world, he didn’t know what was going on in there, he only heard your screams. The four men were desperate, they knew there were only two options. Finally, the cry of a baby, their baby was heard behind the door, the four men looked at each other, then looked at the door, Daphne came out with the baby in her arms wrapped in a blanket. “He’s a cute little boy” she said with a smile, putting the baby in Anthony’s arms, he smiled. “Daphne, how is she?” Simon asked, Daphne just lowered her head.

“Daphne, how is my wife?” Anthony asked. “She is not well Anthony, she lost a lot of blood, she has a high fever, and the doctor does not know if she will survive.” Anthony sighed, he was happy for the birth of his son of course, but at the same time the love of his life was between life and death, he could not do it without her.

“My lady, stay with me, do not close your eyes.” the voices of the maids were heard, alarming everyone who was outside. “She cannot die” Anthony said finally letting the tears come out, hugging his little son.

It had been a week since you had given birth, and the fever and bleeding had stopped, however, you were still weak, you still had no strength, and you spent your time in your room. Violet and Daphne had asked to stay home with you, to help you and Anthony.

“Anthony dear,” Violet spoke entering her son's bedroom, Anthony was playing with Edmund, they had agreed to name him in honor of his father if they had a boy. “You should talk to your wife, I don't know what's wrong Anthony, but it's like she's rejecting her son.” Violet paused. — The only moment she is with him is when she breastfeeds her son, that's not good, you're doing an excellent job as a father, but this baby also needs his mother. — Anthony nodded, left his little one in the bassinet next to his bed, and called a maid to keep an eye on the baby. Leaving with his mother he went to your room, opened the door, and could see you, after a long time, you were looking out the window with your back to him, you had your hair down, a silk robe, you looked very beautiful.

“Love…” Anthony said. There was a pause, he expected you to say something or at least turn to look at him, but it wasn't like that, you continued looking at the window. “Since we met I noticed your desire to be a mother… But now that we have our son, you… you reject him.” Anthony doubted if he was using the right words, he didn't want to be hard on you, so you lowered your gaze to your lap. “What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything.” There was a long silence for his liking, or rather, for the moment you were in.

“I don't want him to get used to me.” You spoke and finally turning to look at him, Anthony looked at you confused. “I’m dying Anthony, just look at me.” And yes, you looked a little haggard, you had lost a little weight, but nothing that a little food couldn’t fix. “Besides…” You paused. “I’m scared Anthony, I’m scared of being just like my mother.” You finally burst into tears, Anthony was a little surprised, you had known each other for a little over a year and a half, and he had never seen you cry like this, or rather he had never seen you cry, it was a little difficult for you to show your emotions one hundred percent. Because of how you grew up, your parents never showed any kind of love between them, nor to you or your siblings, you and your siblings were raised for society, with no laughter or exaggerated emotions, just enough, if you wanted to cry or express your emotions you had to be completely alone, no one could see you like this or they would call you exaggerated. Anthony took a few steps to be closer to you and wrapped you in his arms. “You’re not dying, sweetheart… you’re not a bad mother either… Do you think I don’t notice how you play with Gregory or Hyacinth? Or how do you interact with Augui?” Anthony spoke, you smiled remembering how good it felt to play or spend time with them. Anthony pulled you away from his chest so you could look into each other’s eyes, he cupped your face in his hands, and with his thumbs, he wiped your tears away. “You’re nothing like your mother… but if you keep acting that way… rejecting your son, you’ll be just like her.” You nodded and hugged him again, he also hugged you back, and kissed the top of your head, both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry.” You said, separating from the hug. — Not just for this… also for what happened a few days ago at the theater, I shouldn’t have acted that way. — Anthony shook his head.

“The one who should apologize is me.” He said take your hands. — I wasn’t honest with you, I should have told you what was going on because I went out every night… somehow that woman made all the business be handled in those places, I asked Colin and Benedict to accompany me, just to avoid this, but I should have told you too. — You noticed the sincerity in his words and the regret in his eyes.

“You should have told me, of course, but I acted recklessly, I should have talked to you before, can you imagine the scandal it would have been if someone else had heard? Can you imagine if it had been Wistledown?” Anthony laughed.

“But I must admit, you acted better than I would have acted if I had been in your place.” They both laughed. “But you know… I’m a little curious to know how you knew?” Anthony asked.

“Well… I heard your brothers saying it was funny that she thought you were still in love… and well, you know what happened.” Anthony laughed. “Instead of helping me, they sink my head into the mud.” There was a silence between you. “It’s nice to be with you again,” Anthony said. — But I think you should meet someone… Give me a moment. — Anthony left the room, and a few seconds later he entered the room again, but this time with the baby in his arms, you smiled when you saw him, the tender image of your husband with your baby would be an image that would stay in your mind and heart for a lifetime.

Anthony walked over to you, pulling you close and helping you carry your baby. You finally allowed yourself to see your baby's face, you knew it was too soon to say it, but he was a lot like Anthony.

“Hey baby, you look so cute today.” You said the little baby let out a small laugh. Both you and Anthony smiled at it. You definitely scolded yourself for depriving yourself of this thing you had always wanted.

Anthony guided you to the bed so you could get some rest, despite everything, he knew you were still a little weak, Anthony placed himself right next to you so you could lean on him, and you stayed like that, he held you close, while you held your little baby close.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” — Anthony said while smiling at you.

You two definitely, unexpectedly changed each other's lives. You both knew that nothing and no one could separate you or hurt you after this day.

I would also like you to give advice or recommendations. I hope it's not too long or boring. I would appreciate your comments. 💗

[pearlywritings]

The birth of the Dawn and the Dusk

synopsis: You planned your husband’s birthday months ago and even so something happens to not go according to the script.

pairing and characters: Diluc x fem!reader, your twin sons Rufus and Lucas, Alberich family (Kaeya, his wife and daughter Callie), Adelinde

tw: established relatioships, domestic moment, pregnancy stuff, fluff, a little bit hurt/comfort

word count: 10.8k+ words

author’s note: so late for my man’s birthday,,, But I am happy this one is finally out! Also there is a surprise at the end of the fic~ Hope you’ll enjoy everything!!!

Family AU masterlist

You feel so tired. Body aches and eyes hurt - you barely managed to fall asleep tonight, keeping your husband awake too to coax you into a state of slumber. This also added emotional stress, the clawing guilt for depriving him of sleep right before such a meaningful and happy day, but the man kept lovingly reassuring you that he didn't mind and would support and comfort you always, especially now, when you are so vulnerable, just days away from welcoming your baby into this world.

Diluc was nothing but a saint throughout both of your pregnancies. However, while the first one was challenging for him too, because he was worried about the new role he'd have to fulfill and if he'd do it successfully, this one was easier on his end, so he channeled all his energy to you, being there for every step and every time you got overwhelmed, which, at first, happened way too often. Your other two kids used to be all over you asking questions about their unborn sibling, and while you love your angels to death, you truly do, - your hormones and their vigor sometimes created a bad mix. Luckily, it quickly got better, because Diluc took his time to explain to your boys why their mommy might be emotional or look really really tired, and that she isn't upset with them and they need to be more careful around her. After that, the three of them became your anchor, with boys cuddling to you quietly to soothe and console you every opportunity they had, and Diluc arranging everything for your utmost comfort.

With all of this you were determined to make this year's celebration of his birthday as amazing as every other you two shared. You weren't sure if you would have given birth already or still heavily pregnant when the 30th of April came, but you knew that in any outcome you'd be too exhausted to arrange anything. That is why you started your meticulous planning half-way into your pregnancy. Everything was a secret from Diluc, just as always, and he oh so tenderly smiled, whenever you tried to hide the notes you were making, only teasing you by stepping closer and hugging you from behind. But he was a fair man, he never glanced at your scribbles and plans, only burying his face in your hair and asking to stay like this with you and the baby for a little bit. It actually helped you to concentrate a little bit better.

In March the final version of your plan was already passed to the maids who'd be responsible for organizing and decorating, and you couldn't help but feel pride when they giggled and excitedly murmured upon checking your instructions. You did a great job.

But you must've also done something bad, if whatever gods of fertility above made it their goal to mess with your sleep schedule - the baby is way too active, keeping you awake at an ungodly hour, just like tonight. So exhausting…

You can feel movements behind your back and a moment later a pleasant warmth is spreading all over your stomach and back. A soft whine escapes your lips, but it’s quickly shushed by a quiet murmur next to your ear.

“Shh… My flame, it’s okay, I got you…” You hug a pillow in front of you tighter, burying your face in it, letting your husband cuddle to your back, keeping his palm spread over your bump. He always knows when the baby gets cranky, sometimes even before you feel it, ready to calm down both of you with the help of his presence and vision.

Pretty soon you feel comfy again, surrounded by pillows and a literal heater of a man, who peppers soft kisses along your bare shoulder. His heavy bangs tickle your skin, prompting the corner of your lips to twitch in a shadow of a smile; an arm, wrapped around your middle, doesn’t put any weight on your waist, perfectly controlled by sheer strength of its owner; his whole body becomes support to your back instead of a long pillow he removed previously to take its place and he playfully nudges your feet when you attempt to tangle your legs with his.. Oh, you love this man.

Suddenly a loud noise from the outside worms its way into your lulled conscience, and you flinch. Slowly your eyelids slide open and you groan quietly, ears catching a dissatisfied huff from the male beside you.

“I told them to be careful…” Diluc grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t leave his spot next to you, only lifting his hand slightly and starting to rub your stomach in soothing circles.

“Mmm… What time is it?” Pushing the pillow away you rub at your eyes, yawning. Your husband cranes his neck to look at the wall behind and hums.

“A little past ten.”

“Ten..? Oh no…” With a pout you kick some other pillows (and accidentally his legs) too, stifling another yawn with your hand. “I was supposed to wake up earlier for your special day… I am sorry I slept for so long.”

“Nonsense,” he digs his elbow in a mattress and lifts his upper body to reach for your cheek, smothering it with pecks. “You are nine months pregnant, my love. I would’ve let you sleep all day long, if I didn’t know you worked hard to make today exceptional for me.”

“Oh…” You sigh, finally blinking the sleep, that was clinging to your eyelids, off and throw an arm behind you, rolling your back a little, practically placing yourself on your husband, stretching with a content noise. Diluc sees an opportunity to wrap both arms around you, and carefully draw you even more on top of himself, face hidden in the side of your neck.

“Archons, you are pretty,” the heat engulfs your heart, born from his adoring tone, and spreads in tender waves through your whole being.

“Don’t you dare say having me in your arms is enough of a present for you,” your chiding makes him smile and shake his head.

“As much as that’s true, I won’t, for your sake,” you squint like a cat under the sun, when he places a kiss under your jaw. “Are you ready to get out of bed? Half an hour ago when I came downstairs, and immediately got kicked out by Adelinde, I managed to catch a glimpse of Kaeya and our sons. I am sure Callie and her mom have joined them by now too.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You widely smile, sleep forgotten as if the need in it was always non-existent. “Yes, I want to start getting ready. Please, help me, ‘luc.”

“With greatest pleasure.”

Letting the Alberich family spend the night was one of your greatest decisions made in preparations for Diluc’s birthday. There is no way to guess when throughout the day you might feel light-headed or tired, so them being at the Winery from the very morning till the very evening increases the chances to get an opportunity when all of you can enjoy the celebration together. 

When you descend down the stairs, with Diluc practically glued to your sight, holding your arm to support, Kaeya’s face is the first one you spot among the others. He looks absolutely cozy with his pajama-like-looking pants, matching shirt and a knee-long robe, hanging on his shoulders untied. His face lights up with a smile, when his eye lands on you two, and he hands one of the maids nearby the box he’s been holding previously.

“Aren’t these our dear birthday boy and his lovely wife?” His voice is smooth, never lacking his ever-present teasing lilt, as he makes his way to you.

“Don’t make it look like you see me for the first time today,” Diluc grumbles, letting go of your hand, so you could give your brother-in-law a side hug.

“Oh? I am sorry, Diluc, but could I really tell Adelinde not to kick you out? My charms do not work on this amazing woman.”

“Because this woman raised you and is immune to said charms,” the woman in question appears behind the Cavalry Captain, with a sweet smile plastered on her face. “Come on, go help your wife - I don’t doubt she is skilled, but three kids are still a handful.”

“Haha, aren’t you subtle? If I didn’t know how much you adore me, I’d say you are kicking me out,” the star-shaped pupil twinkles with concealed merit, to which the head maid tenderly scoffs.

“Gotta make it even between the brothers,” she teases him back, and he gasps in pretense hurt, to which Diluc rolls his eyes, but a smug-looking smile doesn’t escape your sight.

“Sure, sure,” Kaeya jerks his chin up, still faking the offense, and turns around to leave. The woman shakes her head at his antics, short blond hair gently swaying, complimenting the fond look on her face. With one of her boys gone, she devotes her attention to the other, smiling apologetically.

“I am sorry for shoving you out the way I did, Master Diluc, but Lady Y/n really wanted to be here when you came to witness what she had planned for you. I hope you can forgive me for forbidding you from the first floor of your own house.”

“I can never be mad at you,” Diluc’s lips form a small smile as well, and he steps closer, gingerly embracing her. “After all, you raised me too.”

The older woman chuckles, patting his back, and your gaze softens. Every year you get lucky to see this display of special motherly affection, the one where you get sad a little, because your child grows older, further and further from the little boy you used to know and take care of, but you still are so happy for how far he managed to come. That’s what Adlinde’s face tells you every single year, those are the tears of joy that are brimming her summer-green eyes.

“Adelinde,” you softly call and she glances at you, with her arms still wrapped around her master’s, her kid’s broad back. “I haven’t had an opportunity to congratulate my husband yet, would you like to be the first this year?”

Vibrant eyes slightly widen, and then unspoken affection swirls in them.

“Thank you,” your heart skips a beat, crumbling under the sincerest gratitude the woman offers you for simply giving her such an opportunity.

She turns to Diluc again, and a small, delicate hand reaches up to brush away the fiery bangs that got even wilder as the man got older. A thumb runs over his cheekbone, feeling a small scar underneath, remembering, comparing to the pouty rosy cheek of a little boy, who used to cling to her skirt and seek her attention and advice, with that adorable sparkle in his warm ruby eyes and a wide grin with a tooth missing. Now a tall man is standing in front of her, who suffered many losses and hardships she couldn’t possibly protect him from, but who eventually found his happiness and found it in himself to fully enjoy it.

And that’s all she ever wished for him.

“Happy birthday, my boy,” her voice trembles with emotions, but she manages to get a hold of herself. The other hand comes to cup his other cheek and tilt his head down, so, standing on her toes, she could place a lingering kiss to his forehead. “Happy thirty eighth year of your life, my dawn. I am so proud of how far you’ve come and I wish for nothing more, but for your happiness to grow. I know your father would tell you the same.”

Oh, Archons. That last phrase made you emotional, hitting your poor heart even harder than the tender exchange between the two. And seeing the look on your husband’s face, the quiet hitch of his breath, the slight tremble of his lower lip and unspoken yearning in his flaming eyes, you have to silently excuse yourself from the scene, too scared to ruin the moment by your very possible waterworks. You’ll let the two have their moment, meanwhile you can see what your sons and brother-in-law’s family is up to.

You find the five of them in a separate room, which was long ago reconstructed and redecorated into something akin to a living room (additional wall was added to divide the hall part from this space to grant you and kids privacy if any partner of Diluc stopped by to discuss the matters with either him or Elzer). Both boys and the girl are sitting on the carpet-covered floor, vigorously discussing something - you even catch the pieces of the argument they’ve been having for months. Ever since the twins’ father agreed to consider getting them a dog, they and their older cousin could not shut up about what name the creature should have. At first it was cute, now it’s the reason for a headache, when the three of them cannot reach an agreement.

But the childish debate is quickly tuned out when you recognize the adorable new two-piece indoor outfits you purchased specifically for today. Your older son has the sleeves of his orange pullover rolled while he wildly gesticulates, the usual unruly mass of his untied hair swaying from side to side like a flame turned upside down. Lucas on the other hand has his cheek supported by his fist with an elbow digging in his knee, clad in yellow pants, and watches his brother and cousin with an 'I am so done with them' look, so uncommon for a six-year old, that it almost makes you snort. Callie, wearing similar in style pants and pullover, but sharing a pretty blue color with her father, is actively arguing with Rufus, however there is something different from the redhead's pure decisiveness. There are clearly some hints of Kaeya's mannerism, especially that quirk of her lips. What a cheeky twelve-year old.

“Y/n!”

Your attention is quickly drawn to the smiling woman, who is rising from the couch she’s been sharing with her husband just seconds ago. Mirroring her smile, you swiftly rub your eyes, getting rid of happy tears, caused by a scene at the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Concern is laced in your friend’s tone, as she walks to you and puts her palms on your elbows in a comforting gesture. You only shake your head, making a small step closer, so you can give her a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I am good, don’t worry. Just saw something very heart-warming.”

“Oh, alright,” she sighs in relief. “Are you hungry?"

Good question, actually. You concentrate on what your body feels and craves, softly rubbing your belly. No, still only the aching and ever-present fatigue.

"Not necessarily, but if you all haven't eaten yet, we can do it now. Diluc should soon join us, and after breakfast we can start our stay-inside party."

Your friend nods in agreement, squeezing your elbows affectionately, and then turns to look at the three kids still sitting on the floor, so engrossed in their conversation that they seem to not have even noticed you enter.

"Hey, kids,” only Lucas perks up at his aunt’s call, while Rufus and Callie keep arguing, ignoring everything around them. “Kids,” is said firmer, but still to no avail. As the younger twin gets up from the floor, you share a knowing look with the woman.

“Callie Alberich.”

“Rufus Ragnvindr.”

And as if by magic the conversation is cut short, two sets of worried eyes staring back at the unamused-looking moms.

“Good, we finally have your attention,” Mrs Alberich hums, taking your hand and leading you to the armchair, helping you to sit down. “Now, who’d be a dear and go to the kitchen to let the maids know they can serve breakfast?”

“I will, mom,” the girl says before Rufus can open his mouth and carefully pushes him and his brother in your direction. “You two, go say hi to your mama.”

Kaeya’s eye twinkles, when he easily guesses his daughter’s intentions, but keeps his mouth shut, watching his nephews practically sprint to their mom and climb onto the armrests.

“She went to congratulate uncle Diluc, didn’t she?” His wife quietly asks, taking a seat next to him, and the man only chuckles, wrapping an arm around her waist, bringing her even closer. Yeah, his girl really likes her uncle, adores even, which has been absolutely mutual from the moment the redhead was handed the small baby to hold for the first time. The Dawn Winery owner has always played an important role in the girl’s life, and before his sons were born, the man was absolutely wrapped around his niece’s finger. She doesn’t remember that, of course, but she does remember how she begged for cousins, and feels very proud of the fact, claiming that it’s because of her request uncle and aunt now have two cute boys, whom she really-really loves and enjoys spending time with, despite being twice as old as them.

But uncle is still her favorite out of the whole Ragnvindr family. So getting first to the man and wishing him a happy birthday is an absolute must.

“I am sure she won’t forget about breakfast,” Kaeya hums eventually, focusing on his sister-in-law and nephews, who, in their orange and yellow costumes paired with the color of their hair, remind him of two little candlelights.

“I love the cozy style you decided on for the clothes,” he comments, drawing your attention from twins, who settled against the sides of your stomach, resting their heads on your shoulders.

“Really?” An excited smile worms its way onto your face. “I am glad you think so! I thought they were perfect for spending the day inside."

"They are!" Mrs Alberich claps her hands together. "I adore this pretty dress and yours looks so wonderful too! The fabric is very soft, when I put it on this morning I thought I was hugged by a fluffy cloud. Oh, what color does Diluc have by the way?"

"Papa has gray" Rufus chimes, before reaching out to your stomach to gently pat it. "Mama, did you get the baby one too?"

"I did, Ru," you reassure him, remembering the cute white onesie you decided to purchase on a whim to match the vibe. "Soon she or he will be able to wear it."

"Speaking of the baby, you've never told us the name you picked. Is that a secret?"

"It really isn't,” your tone is soft, and your gaze is tender, as you look down at your belly. “We do have a small list, but our decision was to choose when the baby is born. We agree on every name on that list, and Diluc believes it's just going to click which one is perfect when we see them, just like it happened with these two," you turn your head from side to side, kissing each boy's cheek, making them squeal happily. In reality it was a little bit different. 

Obviously you didn't expect to have twins, so your list was created on the basis of eventually picking only one name. But when there appeared to be two babies, two little boys, everything had to be reconsidered. You and your husband (surprisingly more him than you) thought it'd be cute if there was something that would show their twinly bond. That's when it clicked quickly - Diluc came up with Rufus and you did so with Lucas, affectionately calling them Ru and Lu. This time you also considered different kinds of name combinations for possible outcomes, but ultimately decided to let the future tell.

"Okay, that's fair," Kaeya smiles, putting his cheek on top of his wife's head - the woman made herself comfortable on his shoulder, watching you and your sons with a sweet smile of her own. "Promise to invite us over when you feel strong enough to have visitors to meet another member of the Ragnvindr family?"

"Of course, I promise, Kae. And you'll be the first ones to kno- aaah!"

Everyone in the room jumps when a sharp cry of discomfort escapes you. Unwrapping your arms from around the twins, you lean forward and clutch your stomach. Surprised, the boys get down onto the floor and move right in front of you, worry evident on their faces. You mean to reach out to comfort your babies, to reassure him, but another surge of pain prevents you from doing so, and you groan, hands still on the stomach. Kaeya is next on his feet, closely followed by his wife, and just a second later the man scoops both redheads in his arms, while your female friend crouches before you, with both palms on your knees.

"Kaeya, boys - out. I'll handle it."

"But mama is hurt-," Lucas tries, not taking his eyes off of your curled figure, as his brother attempts to wrestle his way out of his uncle’s hold. Both look panicked, and the Cavalry Captain has to gently shush both of them, pressing their bodies even closer to his chest..

“Don’t worry, she is alright and she will be alright when we return, okay? Now, let’s go and find your father-”

“Oh.”

The man stumbles over his words, hearing a surprised noise, and immediately glances up at you, met with an expression of total disbelief.

“Archons, what is it? Y/n, please, don’t scare us like tha-”

“I think my water just broke.”

He barely holds himself back from cursing in front of his little nephews. His wife, on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber, absolutely unphased, with not even an ounce of worry present on her face or in her actions. She rises from her crouched position and turns to look at her husband, who in a second became an anxious wreck, as if it is his beloved who is having contractions.

“Love,” she speaks calmly, “take the boys, find Callie and Diluc and get the kids ready to go out for a walk. Also ask someone to inform the midwife that Y/n has possibly gone into labor. And for the Seven’s sake, don’t dump this information onto your brother as if someone is dying, we don’t need a panicked dad right now.”

“Got it,” his legs start moving even before he thinks about it, and with two boys held in a death grip, Kaeya runs out of the room. He startles a couple of maids in the hall, along with Diluc, who’s just walked out of the kitchen, holding his niece’s hand. The hero of today’s occasion lifts his eyebrows, staring at the disheveled form of his brother, and an uneasy feeling starts rising in his chest when he notices the barely concealed panic in his periwinkle eye.

“Kaeya, what’s going on?”

“Okay, birthday boy, I need you to stay calm no matter what I tell you now, alright?"

"Are you sure you are the one to tell me to stay calm?" Red brows meet together in an alarmed manner. "What's gotten into you? Where are our wives?"

Another sharp cry, easily recognised as yours, is heard from the living room, and in a quieted hall everyone is finally becoming aware of something going on, something very unplanned.

"Um, so, as I said, stay calm, 'luc. However hard it is to believe, your wife might’ve gone into labor.”

“What!?”

Loud gasps of the maids fall almost deaf to Diluc’s ears when he hears the news. Immediately one of the girls chirps that she’ll go find the midwife and quickly scurries away, while two more run upstairs to go and check the room specifically prepared for such an occasion. Someone steps up and takes Callie, bringing her with Kaeya and twins somewhere else, but honestly, the redhead doesn’t notice it. The only thing his mind keeps repeating is that his wife needs him.

When he bursts into the living room you’ve already gotten onto your feet, one hand gripping Mrs Alberich’s shoulder and the other pressed to your stomach. The grimace on your face and heavy breathing is an evidence itself of your state, and Diluc appears at your side in a flash of gray and crimson, wrapping an arm around your back.

“My flame, keep breathing. Everything is alright,” his deep voice is comforting and you lean your forehead into his chest, whimpering.

You nod, letting go of your friend’s shoulder, and Diluc takes it as an opportunity to lift you in his arms - there is no way he’s making you walk, especially when the point of your destination is the second floor. You do not even complain, instead focusing on trying to relax the best you can, exercising proper breathing and counting.

“I am so sorry, ‘luc. I wanted this day to be special and now I am ruining it…”

“No, you are not,” he says firmly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Rather you are making it even more special. I know you worked hard, but I also know that all of it won’t go anywhere and we’ll have a moment to enjoy it properly afterwards. You are much more important right now, so let’s get you to the bedroom.”

Kaeya was right - it is hard to believe. Of course, it’s not clear yet, it still could be just false labor pains, but never in his entire life could Diluc imagine that one of his kids would be born on the same day he was. When he lays you down onto the bed with pristine white sheets and lets the midwife examine you, the heart in his chest is going absolutely crazy. He can’t bear to see that painful look on your face, how your pretty eyes squint and teeth are gritted, but he will rather fall dead in that same room, than leave it, leave you without his support. 

You lift your hand and reach for him. Someone pushes a chair closer and he sits down, grasping your sweating hand with both of his and suddenly a memory flashes before his eyes. It’s been twenty years and he thought he has healed, but the rainy day and a man’s big hand he was clasping in his own come back to haunt him. His mind starts screaming. What if something goes wrong? What if he loses someone dear to him again? What if it’s the last time he feels the warm touch of the person who brought him out of his misery? What if it’s the last time he hears your voice and the distressed tone of it is what he’ll remember you like? Please, no, whoever is listening, don’t do it, don’t take you and the baby away from him, please, don't-

“Diluc,” his eyes snap open and he becomes painfully aware that he is shaking. But it's not about him, despite what day it is today. Right now everything is about you. 

Inhaling deeply and sharply exhaling, he blinks away the images of the past and focuses on your face instead. It’s not twisted in pain now, instead you are smiling at him, the adoration in your eyes unmistakable and the squeeze you give his fingers is sobering.

“Did you hear that? It’s actually happening. My water actually broke. Our baby will be here soon. I can’t promise I won’t curse you back and forth like during the first time, but I’ll really try.”

At that moment, pushing the dread aside and leaning forward to press a sweet reassuring kiss to your lips, the man thinks that if it was legally allowed he’d marry you again.

It’s been a couple of hours since the Alberich couple left the Winery with all of the kids. It took Kaeya awhile to calm the boys down, while Callie remained uncharacteristically quiet, glancing at her mom from time to time, because her mother always knows what is going on, but this time, for some reason, isn't telling her.

Eventually both adults managed to persuade the three of them that they are on a mission to get some lovely flowers for Diluc and you - they made sure to pick different kinds that do not grow together for the process to take more time. Fortunately, it brought smiles back onto those cute little faces, and the couple let out a sigh of relief, watching their daughter and nephews, as the group went from one location to another. Lucas, being a dear he is, suggested that mom and dad deserved the biggest bouquets ever and Rufus doubled it, so now they are indeed on a mission to gather as many flowers as they can.

Making a pretty big circle, the five of them returned close to the Winery - but not quite. Settling near the Statue of the Seven, Kaeya stays to watch over the kids picking up windwheel asters and guard the bouquets they’ve already managed to create. The location allows him to oversee the vast grounds that belong to the Ragnvindr family, but also observe his wife’s figure getting smaller and smaller, but closer and closer to the main building. It was decided that soon everyone would get hungry, so she went to bring some food, but also to check on the situation at hand.

The sun hangs high in the sky and Kaeya squints in delight, letting the warm rays caress his face. Ah, what a wonderful day… With a puff of air he sits down and immediately lays his back on the soft ground, cracking his eye open. Not a cloud in sight, only the magnificent blue hues surrounding the brightest star, that’s the sight his brother deserves to have on his birthday - what a pity he can’t see it, stuck inside due to unplanned, though long-awaited, circumstances.

It is a perfect day for the twins’ sibling to be born, and for a brief moment a thought passes the Cavalry Captain’s mind - that maybe it’s the final step for Diluc to heal from all the pain and sorrow that whole 18th birthday situation caused him. Of course, it’s hard to tell, it was a seemingly endless nightmare after all, but he hopes for it, for this bundle of joy that is the redhead's third child to overshadow the loss of their father on this exact date.

Deep in his thoughts he doesn’t notice how Rufus comes closer, dividing equally the amount of flowers he’s gotten, putting one half in his dad’s pile and the other in mom’s one. Then he steps even closer, casting a small shadow across his uncle’s chest. Kaeya snaps out of it only when he feels a soft nudge, head turning and seeing that the boy carefully pushed the tips of his sandal against the lying man’s ribcage.

“What is it, Ru?” His voice sounds a bit lazy, but at least there is not even a hint of his initial panic - worry would only provoke the twins to feel concerned about the scene in the living room all over again, and he doesn't want that, their parents wouldn't want that. 

The little flame in front of him watches closely with wide eyes, which in combination with wild red hair makes him look like a fluffed up owlet.

Totally Diluc’s kid.

“We picked a lot of flowers… When are we coming home? I wanna see mama and papa. And also I’m hungry…”

“Yeah, dad, me too,” Callie pops behind her cousin, staring at Kaeya with bright eyes. She’s holding a mix of windwheel asters and sweet flowers, and the keen dark eye spots a small ladybug crawling up one of the stems. Equally small white lie wouldn't hurt.

“Your aunt is setting an additional surprise right now,” yeah, that’s literally the best explanation he can give them, “but this one takes time, and we need to be patient for her, okay?”

“But if it’s a surprise, why did Uncle Diluc stay? Doesn’t make sense,” His daughter is too sharp sometimes, but that’s why he is proud of her.

“This one requires his presence, so she doesn’t have to worry about messing up. I believe you’ll like it, so let’s give them time. As for the lunch - our precious Snowflake will soon bring us something to eat.”

“Don’t call mom that in front of me,” Callie grumbles, kicking his hip, and the man gasps, hand immediately flying to grab the assaulted place.

“But snowflakes are pretty!” Lucas, who appeared somewhen during the conversation, stares at the older girl in confusion. “They are very pretty and have unique forms… Your mom is pretty and unique too!”

“I know she is, but sometimes it’s just argh. Oh! Doesn’t your father call your mother ‘my flame’?”

“Yes, he does,” Rufus confirms with a nod, sitting down onto the ground. Kaeya turns onto his side, ignoring the dull pain and supports his cheek with a fist. Well, this is amusing~

“Don’t you find it a little too much sometimes?” Both twins shake their heads, red bangs bouncing with the motion, and the girl sighs in exasperation. “Wait till you are as old as I am, you’ll realize how cringe it is.”

“What’s ‘cringe’?”

Kaeya snorts. It’s funny when a twelve-year old speaks of her age with such intonation. It never ceases to amaze him how well his daughter adapted in the role of an older sibling to her cousins. She quickly realized her leading position and it was and still is very clear in her attitude, especially right now, as she is educating them on the meaning of the word 'cringe'. She cares for them a lot though, so he can hardly find a situation where she abused her power in the dynamic the three of them have. Besides, both Rufus and Lucas are far from stupid - probably ones of the brightest kids he’s ever had encounters with, and already have their opinions, so despite loving and admiring Callie they still can fight her back verbally. The only difference is that this is Rufus’ style of handling arguments with her, while Lucas prefers more tranquil approaches. Watching the three interact, Kaeya can't help but wonder what kind of personality would the baby develop.

Ah, it’s going to get so much livelier~

It’s another half an hour, during which he sneakily stole the spotlight from his girl and entertained the kids with made-up, but attention-grabbing stories. His wife's arrival catches them all by surprise - just like everything else about her, as she shouts their names and waves at them the best she can with a basket hanging off of her elbow. She is not alone though. With delight overtaking their expressions, kids spot the most loving and kind (obviously favorite) maid at her side holding the rest of the baskets Mrs Alberich couldn’t carry on her own. Kaeya hasn't even sat up yet, and the kids are already speeding in her direction.

“Addieeeee!”

Overjoyed, in an instant they are all over her and the woman gently laughs, settling down the baskets and staying in a crouched position to hug all of them. As she is telling them to help her with unfolding the blanket, Kaeya rises to his feet, right in time to put his arms loosely around his wife's waist to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Thanks for the food and bringing additional help," he murmurs, smooching her again and taking the baskets away. Freed arms encircle his neck and soft lips press against his in return, stealing the man's breath away.

"Don't mention it. Adelinde figured we might need her, and she is right, personally I am at my wit's end," she sighs, glancing behind to make sure the kids are occupied with the task the head maid gave them. "As for the news - everything is going smoothly so far, but it'll take some more hours. Other maids suggested visiting Springvale or maybe going to the City, and I agree."

"Yes, that sounds reasonable…" Kaeya hums, inwardly admitting that some remaining weight has just been lifted off of his shoulders. "You think we'll have to return in the morning or…?"

"No. Before we left, Adelinde checked in with Diluc - apparently he'll send his falcon to deliver a message once everything is over."

Ah, yes… the falcon his brother personally trained once again just a couple of years ago after the passing of his very first winged companion. And once again Kaeya was that one person the bird will always find, no matter where he is.

"Delightful. Then let us have our lunch. What you've got there, hm?"

"What was supposed to be put for the celebratory breakfast we all missed. It'd be such a pity if the food went to waste, wouldn't it?"

"True," the Cavalry Captain sighs and, adjusting his hold on the baskets, leads both of them to the rest of their little group. “What a chaotic morning…”

The drawn together heavy curtains do not let a ray of a settling sun into the quiet room. The crimson painting the sky is undoubtedly beautiful, mesmerizing even, but no one dares to disturb your rest with a blazing color. The smell of freshly cleaned bedding is appeasing, but the fluffed up pillows that have the scent of your husband clinging to them is your main source of comfort - you faintly remember it, but you are sure of nearly snarling at whoever suggested changing the linen for them too before bringing you to the master’s bedroom. Poor maid must’ve been so scared, you’ll have to apologize to her later…

The slight guilt sparked by the memory is what makes you pass the line between dream and consciousness. You force your heavy eyelids open, but immediately squint a little from the light of the candles on the walls. A soft groan escapes your throat and you drop your head to the side, hiding from the light and blinking to make the eyes adjust. Succeeding in it, you take a quick look around the room, wondering if you were left alone to repose, or someone remained to monitor your condition.

That’s when you spot him. Or rather the gorgeous mane of ruby hair, shiny in the candlelight, thrown in a proper high ponytail, streaming down his upper back. He’s changed his clothes too - there is a hazy recollection of someone telling him to go and do so, and what a nice view it is, to see the gray pajama pants and pullover to be replaced with dark cherry - almost blackish - shirt, carmine vest and dark pants. But that’s not the most pleasing sight. Your heart almost melts, when the standing man turns around and you see a bundle of blankets delicately held in his strong arms. Vibrant eyes show every single emotion Diluc feels, looking at your baby. There is pure joy, happiness, bliss, love, promises to protect, to care, to cherish, to make every single day of life important and special. It’s so similar to the scene of nearly seven years ago, but without your husband bawling his eyes out with both arms occupied by twins. Well, maybe he did, a little, when you were resting, but you’ll never know.

You observe them for a little longer, the picture so perfect, you regret not having a Kamera in your hands right now to imprint a moment in a photo. Though you doubt you’d have strength to lift the thing enough to snap one and not make it blurry, so, just watching would suffice for now.

However Diluc’s senses are sharp, and when someone stares at him for longer than a couple of seconds - he knows. The warmth of the tamed flames seeps right through the eye contact, penetrating every cell in your body with welcomed heat. That may be the trick of the light, but his dark pupils dilate upon looking at you, and the blush creeps to your cheeks. Damn this man and him giving you looks like you are the whole world.

“Hey, love,” you softly call, the sound blending into the tender atmosphere, becoming a part of it, becoming Diluc’s source of oxygen for a brief second.

“Hello, my flame,” his voice can hardly mask the adoration and eagerness, with which he takes his next actions, makes it clear how excited he was for you finally awakening. With light steps he moves to the bed and carefully bends down. The touch of his lips is gentle, yet the feeling hidden behind it steals your breath away and your own lips part. Diluc murmurs something about wanting to give you so many kisses to compensate for the hours you spent in labor, and you breathlessly laugh at his adorable confession.

“It’s alright, ‘luc. Besides you are such a beautiful sight for a sore eye, how can I complain when my husband is all dressed up for me?”

“Oh, my flame,” his tone is oh so silken. “You are the beautiful one here. You looked so serene in your sleep, and now you shine like the brightest star.”

“Oh, stop that, I am sure I look like hell.”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head, long and fluffy bangs barely swaying. “You are wonderful. But how are you feeling? Need anything? Maybe you’d like to rest a bit more? I’ll take care of everything for you.”

You know he will, and this is one of the reasons that make him a great husband and an amazing father.

“No, no, I am fine, I feel better. It’s finally over. Our son is here.”

Yes, your son is here. Are you surprised it’s a boy again? Not really, there always was a gut feeling your older sons would have a little brother as their sibling, and by the red hairs you spotted when the baby was passed to you for the first time there is now a solid confirmation that Ragnvindr genes are insane.

“I want to hold him. May I?”

Without answering your question directly, Diluc carefully places the baby on the free space on the bed and helps you to adjust the pillows and sit up. Then the boy is instantly in your arms and Diluc kicks his shoes off to climb next to you. The sides of your heads touch, and you smile when his big hand is placed under yours, to provide additional support.

Your son is sleeping. So tiny and wrapped in all those blankets he is so peaceful. You swallow harshly to fight the tears back and shakily sigh, rapidly blinking. Rough fingers move your hairs away from your face and lovingly caress your cheek, reminding you that everything is okay.

“You did so well, my love… You are incredible, you know that?”

A choked chuckle erupts from your mouth and you sniffle.

“I am, am I not? But it’s also a miracle that he decided to come out right on your birthday.”

The man presses the firmest kiss he’s given you this evening to your temple and wraps his free arm around your shoulders, bringing you even closer. The thumping of his heart is palpable and makes you want to cry again.

“You know…” lifting your head, you come face to face with your husband, and there is a smile playing on his lips, one that is both bright and a bit melancholic. “Now there is one more reason to look forward to my birthday. To celebrate mine with you all and to celebrate his like that too.”

“Oh, we can have two parties!” You beam, closing your eyes and picturing it in your head. “Yours would be obviously in the morning, and his would be in the evening- oh, Ru and Lu would be so delighted to have two cakes to eat instead of one,” you share a soft laugh. Which actually reminds you…

“Have you sent anyone to notify them they can come home? I feel so bad that they had to spend your birthday away from you…”

“Don’t worry, dear. The message has been delivered and they should soon be here. And there is always tomorrow to start with the party all over again. I believe it was a smart decision to get kids out of the house. You know how protective twins are around you - they would’ve worried themselves out of their minds.”

You have to admit that Diluc is right - no need for your boys and niece to hear you scream and curse whoever was present for hours, and you can trust the Alberich family to keep them safe and entertained.

“Well then, if everything else is settled, my heart and mind are at peace… But we still have one important thing to do. The name. And before we go down the list, may I suggest something, please?”

“You are the mother, you have the most say in it,” his words make you lift an eyebrow at him, yet he only smiles. Shaking your head you poke your nose into his cheek.

“What a gentleman you are…"

"That's what my dad told my mom," he says as if in his defense. "And I agree with him on that one - after all, it's you who carried him for nine months and kept him healthy."

"Alright, alright, I could speak of all the ways you provided for me so I could do that, but I know you won't accept this kind of praise. Okay, I will have a say in it," Diluc scoffs, but you only give him a teasing wink. "Speaking of your parents, remember how you told me that your mother chose the name ‘Diluc’, because you were born in the early hours of dawn?” He nods, fondness reflecting in his eyes. “She also did it, because your father’s name means ‘twilight’, ‘dusk’ and she wanted them to match, right?” He nods again, but this time it’s confusion and a bit of hurt that are hiding behind his crimson pools of fire. Still holding the baby, you do your best to interlace your fingers with his, still supporting your hand, and the redhead takes notice of it, helping you, until there is a nice hold on each other's digits.

Swallowing thickly you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. Diluc would never be mad at you, but what you are going to suggest next is pretty huge.

"It's not on the list, but I took interest in this one when we were researching. The main meaning of this name is 'Sun'. However, there were languages that gave it a slightly different meaning, let's say, time-specific? And now, since our son was born on the 30th of April and almost at sunset, I thought that this one might be perfect. It's… It's Cyrus. And it can have the meaning of 'dusk', 'twilight', just like your father's name does."

The clock on the wall is ticking and that's the only sound in the room. You can barely hear your hearts beating or air entering and leaving your lungs, but your mind is in a race against itself, and you start second-guessing that maybe giving him a big reminder about that day was a mistake. Diluc’s been healing, you know that, you’ve been here all these years to witness his progress and be proud of him, but it still must hurt. His silence is worrying, but despite your own nervousness you give him time to process, to let the thought sink in and register what exactly you are implying.

You spend a few minutes quietly. Your husband never loosens his hold on your shoulders, and it soothes you when his thumb starts rubbing over your knuckles absent-mindedly. His warm breath caresses your skin, lulling your alerted senses to the point of tranquility, and you sigh audibly, lowering your head on his shoulder. And then you finally hear him speak again.

“Cyrus… It’s a lovely name. I… I really like it. No, I love it.”

“Yeah?” A soft murmur of your question sends a wave of delight to the man’s swelling heart. “You do?”

“I do. I think it’s perfect. But…are you really sure you want to honor my father?”

“He meant a lot to you, ‘luc,” you straighten up and turn to have a better view of the redhead. There are unshed tears clinging to his thick lashes and he doesn’t even blink, looking down at your son. “Listen, my love,” carefully sliding one hand from beneath the baby’s body you bring it to Diluc’s cheek, making him face you, making him gulp and lean into your open palm, “I too think it’s perfect, and maybe, just maybe, the birth of our son today is your dad’s sign to move on. Master Crepus would want that for you, I am sure, and passing on a small fracture of him to this boy would close this chapter forever. What do you think?”

“I think that I love you so-so much…”

His lips are scorching, kissing yours with feverish urgency. Tears roll down his flushed cheeks, but you brush them away the best you can, not minding the salty taste of the kiss. Diluc Ragnvindr has his chest open for you, for your hands to hold his beating heart, for them to take care of it. This pure joy that sets his soul aflame is overpowering, all-consuming, and he is more than ready to let it swallow him whole, if only you keep loving him the way you’ve been all these many years.

When he parts from you, the redhead nearly chokes and starts coughing from all the sobs he held back. Your fingers are deft, threading through his thick locks, gently scratching his scalp, as his forehead is pressed to yours. You remind him to breathe.

“And I love you too, Diluc. I always will.”

”Thank you.”

You smile, peppering his face with kisses, whispering the sweetest words of affection. He wants to tell you something, he even opens his mouth, but a sudden knock on the door interrupts him. Your eyes dart to the heavy wood blocking the entrance to your bedroom.

“Master Diluc?” It’s hushed, but still audible. “We spotted young masters, Sir Kaeya’s family and Miss Adelinde from the window. They will be here soon, should we ask them to wait?”

Your husband clears his throat, coughing in his fist, and then glances at your figure to check if you look good enough to receive so many people at once. You simply mouth an “I am fine”. It seems enough to assure him.

“No, Hillie,” your husband speaks louder. “Y/n is awake, so once everyone arrives, please, bring them here. And make arrangements for dinner.”

“Yes, Master!” 

Diluc sighs when the hurried steps can no longer be heard and kisses you once more. The baby in your hold starts stirring and you return your free arm back around him, bringing the boy closer to your chest.

“Will you be fine, if I leave you alone with Cyrus for a moment?” Him already using the name reduces your heart to a puddle and you cannot fight the huge grin.

“We will, my love, don’t worry. Go wash your face, I’ll feed him in the meantime.”

With a nod he bends to kiss his son’s forehead and then peck you on the cheek, climbing out of the bed after that and disappearing in the bathroom.

Fortunately, you had a solid half an hour before your sons and guests returned. In that time you managed to feed Cyrus, lull him back to sleep and pass the boy to a much calmer and collected Diluc, who carefully placed him in a crib.

Upon your suggestion, the man steps out of the bedroom to meet everyone downstairs, and warn the kids about being quiet. Every maid he meets on the way beams at him with a smile, congratulating and asking if their Lady is alright and if she needs anything. Their eagerness to assist his wife with anything she might need and excitement they feel for the fact Ragnvindr family has just grown in number is heart-warming, and Diluc allows himself a small smile, as he answers them the best he can.

When he reaches the hall of the first floor it’s just on time to witness Adelinde closing the massive doors and locking them. Two balls of red immediately sprint to him and he barely has time to crouch and catch his elder sons. They start whining and pouting for missing the whole day with their dad and he kisses their round cheeks, promising to hold a proper celebration later.

“Hmph, you better!” Rufus scoffs, lightly punching his father’s shoulder. “But today is not over yet, right?”

Diluc nods, patting their heads affectionately, ruffling crimson locks. Then twins glance at each other and simultaneously inhale.

“Happy birthday, dad! We love you!”

“I love you too, fireflies,” he hums, straightening up and lifting both of them in his arms. “Thank you for your kind words, I appreciate them.”

“We brought you and mom bouquets! Callie helped too,” Lucas chirps, pointing to two big bunches of flowers in Kaeya’s and his wife’s arms. The redhead lifts his eyebrows, to which his brother only shrugs.

“This is wonderful, kids. I love them, and I know your mom would adore them too.”

“Oh, can we go see her?”

“Why isn’t she with you?”

“Dad said she was preparing a surprise, where is it?”

Bombarded with questions, flying from three directions, Diluc is reminded of why he came down here in the first place.

“Kids,” the seriousness in his voice stops the stream of interrogation. Three sets of eyes are glued to his face. “I am going to tell you something very important and I need you to listen, alright? Now we all are going to go to my and mom’s bedroom. There you’ll have to be quiet, okay? No screaming, no squealing, no arguments, no running around, got it? Your mother is very tired, and someone who’s also waiting for you there may start crying if you disturb him.”

Mrs Alberich gasps, widely smiling, and turns to her husband, whispering in his ear.

”It’s another boy!”

Children on the other hand look utterly confused, but they do know when the look on the Dawn Winery owner’s face shows he is not kidding. This sounds so mysterious, and while puzzled they are dying to know what’s going on. And without acting the way their dad/uncle asks they will not find out what it is.

“Okay, we understand. We will be quiet.”

“Thank you,” he bends down again to put his sons back onto the floor and glances behind at his staff. “Someone, take these flowers and put them in vases in the living room. Kids, go wash your hands.”

"Yes, Master Diluc!"

When the door to the bedroom opens, you wave to everyone with a soft smile, cozying among the many pillows again.

"Mama!" Twins exclaim in whispers, tiptoeing to the bed and climbing up to hug you. "We missed you so much… How are you? Why are you in bed?"

"Tired," you simply explain, smooching their cute little noses and hugging them as tightly as you could. Suddenly, Lucas's eyes fall to your stomach - or rather to where it was just hours ago.

"Mom… where is the baby?" He asks, patting around the blanket, and indeed discovering the belly's absence. Rufus lowers his gaze to confirm his brother's words and then looks at you and after that at Diluc, who's just quietly closed the door shut.

"Dad, what did you do to the baby?"

"Nothing."

"When where-?" 

He stops when you tap his shoulder and, once both boys' attention is yours again, point to the crib standing close to the side of the bed. Callie, who's been watching all along, has her interest picked, and steps to the little bed from the other side, as her cousins crawl across the mattress. With six hands grabbing at the wooden edges and six eyes glancing inside, the room falls quiet again for a few moments. Kaeya walks to you and gives you a hug, kissing your forehead and congratulating you with a new addition to the family.

"It's funny isn't it?" He murmurs. "Now you don't need to invite us another time to meet the newborn."

You laugh at that. As he moves away your co-sister-in-law is quick to take his place, embracing you and pecking your cheek, also congratulating you and teasing for once again being a boy’s mom. Diluc meanwhile has taken place by his niece’s side, gently smoothing her hair back, observing the kids’ reaction.

It’s Lucas who opens his mouth first.

“So… this is our sibling?”

“Yes, Lu. This is your little brother.”

“He sure is little,” Rufus drawls, “I’d even say tiny. Were we this tiny too?”

“You were,” Callie butts her way in a conversation. “I was your age when I saw you two for the first time. Though I couldn’t hold both of you in my arms, you were heavy. You are still heavy, hehe.”

“We are not-!”

“Shh,” Diluc presses a finger to his lips, and the kids slam their palms over their mouths. “Remember what I asked you about? No fighting, or he will wake up and start crying.”

“Sorry, dad…”

“Sorry, Uncle Diluc…”

You snort at the little exchange, watching your family fondly, thinking that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey, brother,” Kaeya joins the other man and grabs his shoulder, squeezing in an affectionate gesture, “Congrats. Both with your and your son’s birthday.” 

Diluc nods, lifting his own hand, patting the one resting on his shoulder. 

“Oh, right!” The older twin’s eyes sparkle at the realization and he stares up at his dad. “Does it mean you share a birthday with him?”

“Yes, I do, Ru. Does it bother you?”

“Are you kidding me? Dad, that’s so cool! Me and Lucas always have each other for our birthday, he would have you for his!”

“Also it means two cakes,” the other six-year old murmurs under his breath, and Diluc nearly chuckles - you do know your boys too well. It also lifts a weight he wasn’t aware of off his chest - it seems like he was a bit worried, if twins would feel jealous of the fact their dad’s and sibling’s birthdays are on the same date. But since they are cool with it - he is more than cool too.

“Speaking of him,” Mrs Alberich manages to take a peek into a crib too, aw-ing at the fact it’s a red-haired baby again, “have you chosen a name already?”

“We did,” scarlet eyes stare right into your soul through yours, and you mirror Diluc’s proud smile. “His name is Cyrus. Cyrus Ragnvindr.”

“Cyrus, hmm…” Kaeya purses his lips in thought, as if examining the name in and out, like some kind of a linguist. “Diluc, Rufus, Lucas and Cyrus… Yeah, fits right in.”

“Not as well as Cherry №3 I bet,” Callie smirks at the twins, to which, keeping in mind the promise they gave their dad, they only stick their tongues at her.

“I told you the name was perfect,” your husband reminds you with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, wait!” The eye-patch wearer snaps his fingers without actually making a snapping sound. “DiLUc and LUcas, RUfus and CyRUs… You now have two Lu’s and two Ru’s!”

“Oh Archons, I didn’t realize that,” with wide eyes you stare back at him. “That’s so cute!”

“Can we call him Cy?” Lucas pulls away from the little bed, and sits back on the mattress properly.

“I think it is indeed a short form for his name,” you nod, feeling so relieved about how smoothly everything has been going. Yeah, surely the birthday party didn’t go as planned, but on the other hand you finally have your boy, and your other boys look pretty happy after meeting their younger brother. So it’s all wonderful. 

Or maybe you are too fast to judge.

“Uncle Diluc, Aunt Y/n,” you are surprised, when your niece calls you both, and glance at the oldest kid in the room inquiringly. To your surprise her face is expressionless, or at least she is trying to keep it this way, because your husband can clearly see barely-hidden mischief lighting up her eyes. She waits when her silence draws attention of the rest of the people to her persona and then, with the same straight face, says something that immediately sends her father choking on a silent laughter.

“Next time I want a girl cousin.”

Dumbfounded, Diluc, you and her mother stare at the girl with jaws going slack, while Kaeya is nearly dying from suppressing his violent coughing, bent in half and shaking. Not letting it crack her act, she holds her head high and heads right towards the door, feigning nonchalance with her graceful posture and slow steps.

“I will go and ask about the dinner. That's all.”

And just like that she leaves you all once again under the pretense of checking on with the kitchen staff. Mrs Alberich is the first one to snap out of the collective stupor and, shaking her head, grabs Kaeya’s elbow to drag him out of the room. Diluc is next, inhaling deeply, wondering why he is even surprised by her antics. He notices how the twins kind of lost interest in watching a baby that is doing literally nothing, so he ushers the boys to a very important mission - to make sure that their dad’s favorite meal is cooked, which they take with all seriousness.

And once more it’s only him, you, and little Cyrus, sleeping peacefully in his bed. You watch thick scarred fingers unbutton the vest and peel it off, hanging it on the back of the chair. Same fingers brush his bangs away and he sighs again, making eye contact with you. He smiles and you smile too.

“As much as I love this girl, I’ll have to disappoint her.”

“I agree, love,” the man is at your side again, an arm snaking around your shoulders and pressing you into him. “I admit, I would’ve loved to have a sweet girl looking just like you, but judging by the looks of our sons... Who knows how many attempts it’ll take, and I am not risking your health anymore.”

“You are so sweet,” you swoon, lacing your fingers together and squeezing his hand. “I love you for that. Are you sure that this is enough?”

“It always was enough. From the moment it was just you and me it was already enough. You simply tripled this happiness.”

“We tripled this happiness.”

“We will.”

“Yes, we did. And we will keep it that way.”

You lean close to kiss him, but, before he can reciprocate, start kissing all over his face, wherever your current position allows you to reach. Your partner keens on your affectionate attack, lowering his head on purpose, so you have more skin to cover with your lips, and since it brings you so much satisfaction, you do not stop until a thought, that you are forgetting something, is at the front of your mind.

“I just realized that I am the only one who has not wished you a happy birthday today. So… Happy birthday, Diluc. I love you very-very much. Sorry I am not very creative this year.”

“I think the little boy sleeping over there would beg to differ,” your husband nods at the crib, making you pout, but is quick to kiss it away. “I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for everything. This birthday was as perfect as any other you spent with me.”

“And I will make sure to make it perfect every single year ahead of us, my glorious Dawn. Should we wish a happy birthday to our little Dusk as well? I think I heard Kaeya briefly congratulate him, I want to do it too!”

You are so adorable when excitement is written all over you, and it's hard not to give in to your sparkling eyes, especially when he wants the same thing you do.

“We absolutely should. Let’s do it together, alright?”

The sky is painted black outside, and the second floor of the Winery is quiet, when in the comfort of one of its rooms three sweet words are spoken in two voices with such love and devotion, only parents can have for their child.

“Happy birthday, Cyrus.”

And maybe the winds would pick these words and carry them through the time to the one, and, stroking his short red beard, he would smile and say that the Dawn and the Dusk were always meant to be together. 

Diluc and Cyrus

[inoreuct]

During a supply run with Zoro, a well-meaning lady tells Sanji he's pretty. Not handsome, no--PRETTY. "Your swordsman over there is handsome," she says, pointing at Zoro, who's examining liquor bottles over at another stall. "YOU are pretty." How does he react, & what happens next? 👀 (1/2)

he just laughs at first, if only to cover up how that one word from a stranger has hit him like a punch to the gut.

he looks like a man, and people don't call men pretty. rogueish, certainly. even charming; he's gotten that before at least, but pretty? he laughs some more, gives her a smile and a few words that he doesn't even register, and the merchant lady tilts her head. "you don't get that often, do you?"

"never gotten it at all, actually," he answers, bravado draining away to leave a mumble that he isn't even sure she can hear.

but she must have, because she slides his purchases to him and hums, "well, you're very beautiful. anyone'd have to be blind not to see it."

"maybe," he allows hesitantly, taking the bag with a nod of goodbye. he cannot help but feel as though he's realised something that he won't be able to ignore.

and sure enough, back on the ship, the words swim in his mind. they pop up in blinding white font against the dark of his eyelids as he tries and fails to get to sleep. you're very beautiful.

do i want to be beautiful? he asks himself, and halfway through he already knows, he knows the answer. feels it like an ache in his bones.

sanji's never let himself think about it, but once he starts he can't stop. he imagines himself in makeup, pots and pencils and brushes in front of a mirror, his hair fluffed to perfection, lips red as the dawn and a beauty mark beneath his eye. he thinks about what it would feel like to put on a dress, a proper one; cotton and linen traded for silk, starched dress shirts abandoned in favour of satin blouses and full skirts that nip in with ribbon at the waist. he thinks of the wicker wedge sandals that nami sometimes wears. he thinks about being a man, with a little something more.

he flips over and shoves his face into his pillow. he needs to stop thinking about things that he wants but can never have.

*

sanji's usually better at keeping his secrets, but eventually he slips. he should have known it was only a matter of time before the magnitude of it all became too much to bear and spilled out across the floor.

fortunately, his crew is there to catch him.

they take all of it in stride, even though sanji himself doesn't even know what all of it is yet; he figures things out as they go along. he finds clothes that aren't his in his closet, accessories appearing on his dresser. zoro keeps buying him silk blouses and it makes him want to laugh and cry in equal amounts. nami sees her chance to snag a makeup practice dummy and grabs it, which results in many a night in the girls' quarters, fooling around with makeup until they're either too tired or too giddy with laughter. the rest of the crew show their support in smaller ways, though no less significant—

and now, a year later and leaning against the bar counter of a vaguely familiar town, sanji suspects that he's somehow found himself. it hits him with all the grandeur of someone realising oh, it's stopped raining, or oh, tomorrow's tuesday— sinks into him honey-slow like the burn of the whiskey he sips, warm and comfortable, like a coat he hadn't realised he'd been wearing this whole time and had become his favourite without him even knowing. put like that, it sounds incredibly silly; sanji chuckles as he takes another drink, and a hand settles low on his back where the blue velvet of his dress dips down.

"hey, beautiful," zoro whispers by his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone before leaning over his shoulder to order, and sanji smiles as he swirls his glass with a slow twirl of his wrist.

maybe he'll go look for that merchant lady again. he's fairly sure he owes her a thank you.

[gravitywonagain]

Sake and Cider at Sunrise

(a Fresh Powder in the Pine Trees story)

.

“Tomorrow morning, what are you doing?”

Lan Zhan is sitting at his desk in the middle of reading through something that looks exceedingly boring. Probably budget reports or something equally dull. Wei Ying isn't interrupting him so much as saving him.

Wei Ying half-sits on the edge of the desk as he grabs the paperwork from Lan Zhan’s hands and skims it. It is a budget report. 

“I --” Lan Zhan reaches to take the report back, but Wei Ying is faster, pulling it away as he interrupts whatever Lan Zhan was about to say.

“Nope. The answer is ‘meeting Wei Ying at Dafan for fresh pow.’”

He grins as Lan Zhan lets out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping under the burden that is being Wei Ying’s friend. 

In the most deadpan manner possible, Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying and repeats, “Meeting Wei Ying at Dafan for fresh pow.”

Wei Ying bursts out laughing, almost falling off the desk, “You should say ‘pow’ way more often. I’ll die. It’s amazing,” he says, getting control over himself again. “Okay. But really. You wanna go?”

“I… sure. What time?”

“You’re gonna love this: Meet me there at five-thirty.”

The confusion on Lan Zhan’s face is understandable.

“In the morning?”

“In the morning.”

The skepticism is... also understandable, if a little dramatic. 

“You, and I quote, ‘hate waking up before dawn with the fire of the noonday sun which is way better than the dawn sun anyway.’”

Wei Ying laughs again, “I can’t believe you remember all that!”

Lan Zhan’s expression shifts to one part it’s true so what the fuck are you on about with this five-thirty nonsense, one part am I being pranked?, and one part I listen to the things you say and Wei Ying isn’t quite sure what to do with any of that. 

“But, yeah, that’s true. Unless it’s for powder. I will do many things for good powder.”

Now Lan Zhan looks like he’s filing that bit of information away for later, which is not concerning in the least. He turns his body to face Wei Ying and gives him his full attention. It’s a lot.

“Okay. What should I bring?”

Right. Backcountry. 

“Any gear you would want for hiking and powder skiing. You can borrow Wen Ning’s skins and bindings, I already asked. They won’t be perfect, but they’ll do for now, and I’ve got beacons and shit that I can lend you. You’ve done avalanche safety, right?”

“Every year since I was twelve.”

“Wow, say that with a little more disdain, Lan Zhan.”

“It was a requirement in school and now a requirement for my certifications.”

Wei Ying chuckles at the weird contempt Lan Zhan has for his many certs and their annual requirements. “Okay. Well, maybe this will make it feel more worth it.”

“If you say so.” Lan Zhan does not sound convinced.

“I do! The snow report looks epic!”

“Epic?”

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth that makes Wei Ying’s heart beat faster.

Wei Ying nods, “Epic, Lan Zhan.”

“I hope you don’t mean that in the alpinist sense.”

In the alpinist sense, “epic” would mean that they hike, get lost, someone’s binding breaks, a freak storm hits, they have to dig in for the night, they leave at least one piece of gear on the mountain to be found in the spring, and, eventually, they make it back to the cars, hungry, tired, and probably after running into their own search party on the way down. This is absurd. Lan Zhan is such a fucking nerd. Wei Ying has no idea what he sees in him. 

He rolls his eyes but can’t quite keep himself from smiling, “When have I ever meant anything in the alpinist sense?”

Finding out Lan Zhan was a budding alpinist had been almost as bad as the minor panic Wei Ying had over the golfing scare with Jin Zixuan. Who wants to freeze their ass off, crossing crevasses on stupidly unstable ladders and getting hypoxic, just to stand on top of a mountain? Lan Zhan, apparently. 

“I will get you on big mountains one day.”

“Only if I can ride down.”

“Hm.”

Lan Zhan narrows his eyes, calculating but smug. Like he’s just won, or figured out how to win but needs to adjust his strategy. 

Wei Ying kind of hates it. But it’s kind of captivating, too, and hot. Very hot. 

Especially when Lan Zhan leans in slightly and Wei Ying mirrors him, caught in the gravity of Lan Zhan’s sharp gaze. Lan Zhan’s eyes flick to Wei Ying’s lips and Wei Ying is about to say something about them being in the fucking Ski School office when, suddenly, Lan Zhan snatches the budget reports out of Wei Ying’s hands and leans back in his chair. 

Smug, indeed. 

-

It’s still dark when Wei Ying pulls into the Dafan parking lot in his and the Wens’ well-loved, mostly-red ‘98 Subaru Outback. Did he make fun of Wen Qing for being a stereotype when she bought it? Yes. Does he love driving it around the mountains because it is, objectively, a good mountain car? Also, yes. Of course, next to Lan Zhan’s clean, white 2018 Jeep Cherokee, it looks like an absolute beater. 

Wei Ying looks at the clock on the dash as he cuts the engine. 05:27. Fuck yeah. He zips up his jacket, grabs the two thermoses from the passenger seat, and gets out of the car to meet Lan Zhan where he’s lifting the Jeep’s hatchback. 

It’s cold and quiet. Dark. The sun hasn’t even really started lighting the sky yet. Wei Ying breathes in the mountain air, pine trees and snow and granite, and lets it freeze his lungs for a moment. His shoes crunch on the snow and gravel as he walks toward Lan Zhan. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!”

“Good morning, Wei Ying. You’re… awake.”

Wei Ying smiles at Lan Zhan’s surprise, “Yeah, well, I drove here, so I sure hope so.”

“Mn.”

Their breath condenses in the air and swirls in the light from Lan Zhan’s open door. 

Wei Ying hands the cleaner, less dented, stolen from Wen Qing thermos to Lan Zhan, then turns to open his own hatchback to begin sorting through his own gear.

He can see Lan Zhan out of the corner of his eyes as he does. Standing as if frozen, with the thermos held out in front of him, confusion radiating off him like body heat.

“A Wei Family treat for the top!” says Wei Ying.

It doesn't seem to clear up Lan Zhan's questions.

“Okay, well, yours is just tea, you fucking lightweight." Never. He will never let it go. "But mine is sake and cider!”

Lan Zhan's eyebrow pops up, but it's an expression of curiosity rather than confusion. Wei Ying doesn't let himself think for too long about how well he can read Lan Zhan's silences these days. Or how fucking sculpted Lan Zhan's cheekbones and jaw are.

“My dad used to make up thermoses for my mom when she was backyard touring. He made them when we were all together, too, and let me have sips at the top.”

“Of sake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t much, just a taste. But now it’s a tradition.”

Lan Zhan nods and sets the thermos down on the bumper of the jeep as he gathers his gear. He, as it turns out, already had touring bindings and skins, or his brother did, so they’re actually more prepared than Wei Ying had planned for, which is perfect.

“You’re gonna have your own gear by the end of the season,” says Wei Ying with a grin.

“Am I?”

“You are. And it’s going to be all the really nice, expensive stuff and I’m gonna be so jealous.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

—

The hike starts out smooth, though Lan Zhan struggles a bit with the grade of the climb. Wei Ying cheats a little by putting his own climbing bars up, "Stiletto mode," he calls it, and Lan Zhan grumbles even though he's not the one breaking trail.

“Have you ever actually worn stilettos?” Lan Zhan asks.

“Oh, Honey, just wait until you see me in drag. You will lose your gotdamn mind.” 

Lan Zhan is mostly silent as they hike. Wei Ying lets the quiet linger.

It's early. They're surrounded by soft, fluffy powder. The air is still and freezing.

By the time they're halfway up the hill, they can turn off and stow their headlamps, the cold light of dawn shading everything blue. When they reach the top, the sun is peeking over the ridgeline, painting the sky and snow with pinks and purple, gilding the moutnains across the valley, sparkiling on the calm lake water in the distance.

Wei Ying drops his pack, fishing out his thermos and watching Lan Zhan do the same. He takes off his gloves to unscrew the cap, to press the release and pour himself a little cup of nostalgia.

The hike wasn't particualrly long or arduous. He feels his legs engaged, not tired. They still protest when he sits, though the chill of the snow through his snowpants eases some of their complaints. The sake eases them further.

Lan Zhan's eyes fall closed as he sips his tea, still standing, skis and poles stabbed upright into the snow next to him.

"This is nice," he says, and Wei Ying thinks he's not talking about the tea.

He's so beautiful in the morning light. It might be worth waking up early just to see him like this: serene in the cold, lit gold by the sun.

Steam rises from his thermos cap, turning his nose pink.

"Yeah," says Wei Ying, "yeah, it is."

After a calm moment, they begin to strip the skins off, the ripping sound loud in the near silent valley. Wei Ying shows Lan Zhan how to fold them in on themselves so that they won't stick to anything and everything in his pack.

When Wei Ying grabs his toolkit and gets to work switching his bindings around, Lan Zhan asks if he can try Wei Ying's drink.

Well, no. He asks if he can try the "Wei Family treat," but Wei Ying can't think about that too hard right now. He just grins and asks, "You gonna pass out on me at the top of this mountain, Lan Zhan?"

"Just a small sip," Lan Zhan says, taking the proffered thermos.

The face he makes rivals the cute scrunching of his nose when he tried beer for the first time.

“This is not sake or apple cider," he says, disdain and distrust in his voice.

Wei Ying laughs, “It is!”

“No, this is brewed rice alcohol and instant cider mix.” 

“You’ve seen my car. You think I can afford good alcohol?”

“I think this is closer to a cleaning solution than food grade,” he says, sniffing the thermos, wincing dramatically, and then handing it back to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying takes the thermos laughing, “Not all of us own a mountain, Lan Zhan!”

He loves bitchy Lan Zhan. He does not understand how Lan Zhan has managed to convince everybody that he’s all serious and stoic all the time. 

“Real sake need not be expensive,” Lan Zhan says, sounding exactly as rich as he is. 

“Like you’ve ever even tasted ‘real’ sake,” Wei Ying shoots back with a smile. 

“I’m not sure I’ve tasted any sake.”

Wei Ying snorts into a new bout of laughter and drops to his knees in the snow next to his splitboard. He giggles his way through configuring it back into a snowboard shape while Lan Zhan adjusts his ski bindings. 

“Alright,” says Wei Ying when he calms himself enough to speak, “Are you going to keep making fun of me? Or are we going to get some sunrise fresh tracks?”

“Just waiting for you to finish minor surgery on your gear.”

Wei Ying has to stop strapping in because he can’t breathe. It’s the deadpan snark that just fucking kills him. That bone-dry delivery. That playful glint in his honey-brown eyes. That deep, smooth baritone. Getting off track.

“Okay, punchy,” he says with his arms resting on his knees and his lungs labored with his amusement, “Is this what alcohol does to you before you pass out? Do we need to wait for you to sober up from your single, tiny sip?”

Lan Zhan makes a face that is somehow haughty and embarrassed and unimpressed all while saying fuck you with his eyes. 

Wei Ying loves it. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” Wei Ying says to no one in particular as he stands and clips the chest strap of his back pack together. He checks himself, looks around their spot. Nothing looks out of place. 

He shakes the adrenaline into his arms, feeling the moment shift. Lan Zhan, too, seems to feel the change in mood as he adjusts his goggles on his face. They share a look, a nod. It feels as natural as the smell of pine trees on the breeze. 

“Okay,” Wei Ying says with a smile, “let’s go.”

Wei Ying hops his board once, takes a deep breath of cold mountain air, drops his nose into the bowl, and floats.

Riding in untracked powder down a steep, open slope is one of his favorite things in life. He carves into the mountain and feels it carry him. His toe-edge cuts through the powder and he leans into the slope, dragging his hand through the snow just to catch it on his glove. It’s light, airy, cold. The wind rushes in his ears and he hears his own heartbeat.

His shoulders roll with the turns and his hips follow, easy as anything, used to this from years and years of muscle memory. He cruises down the slope, big easy turns, powder spraying in his wake. The sun is still lancing its rays across the mountain and it sparkles with the colors of dawn. He flows with it. His knees bend into the stretch, toes curling in his boots, weight shifting without him ever having to think about it. 

He sees Lan Zhan fly past him and the cold stings his lungs. Lan Zhan is beautiful in motion. This is not the first time he’s thought this. But, here, in Wei Ying’s world of quiet mountains and fresh powder, Lan Zhan is beautiful. His turns are clean and graceful, a slow rhythm building when he plants a pole. 

For a moment, Wei Ying sees his baba. 

When he meets Lan Zhan at the bottom of the hill, Wei Ying is smiling so hard he can’t control it. He, very carefully, does not spray Lan Zhan with snow when he stops, choosing to stop down mountain on his toes. There will be more laps. This one he wants to be as smooth and perfect as their first tracks. He wants so badly for Lan Zhan to be happy, to be enjoying this with him.

“What do you think?” he asks, trying not to let his anticipation color his voice. 

Lan Zhan turns toward him, then looks back up at the mountain, then back to Wei Ying. It’s not easy to see behind the goggles, but there’s a fire lit inside him. 

He smiles at Wei Ying. It’s small, a twitch of his lips, but real and young and happy. The same almost childish exuberance colors his voice when he says, “Again.”

The second lap is excellent, not only because Wei Ying gets to stare at Lan Zhan’s ass for the entire hike up, but also because the ride down is just as floaty, just as soft and perfect and breathtaking as the first. He does manage to spray Lan Zhan with powder this time and Lan Zhan’s unimpressed face kills Wei Ying for a second time before 8am. 

The sun shines bright in the sky on the third hike up and already the heat is rising. They begin to strip layers even before they start the climb -- jackets stowed in backpacks as they each drink some water and reset their gear. 

Wei Ying’s shirt comes off about halfway up the mountain. 

At the top, Wei Ying finds that Lan Zhan’s insulation layer has been tied around his waist and that there’s a silver necklace chain barely visible under the collar of his henley. 

When he asks about it, Lan Zhan takes his gloves off and pulls it free. It’s a family necklace, he explains, a diamond and aquamarine accented platinum snowflake on a platinum chain. His brother has a matching one, so do his father and uncle. 

He trails off and Wei Ying thinks there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t want to press. Not now. Not the time. 

They glide down the slope, crossing nobody’s tracks but their own. It’s quiet and peaceful and it’s just them. Only them. A perfect kind of solitude. 

It’s not until the fifth hike up that Lan Zhan finally gives in to the heat. 

Their muscles and bodies are warm from exertion, midday is truly upon them. In the rising temperatures Lan Zhan stops climbing, plants his poles and starts removing his pack. 

The sudden cessation of hiking noise and the sliding plastic sound of a backpack buckle behind him causes Wei Ying to stop and turn. When he does, he sees Lan Zhan, gloves stowed on his grips, shirt coming off over his head, winter-pale skin shining in the high noon sun. (Best sun. Best sun for so many reasons now.)

Wei Ying’s brain breaks a little. 

It’s one thing to know that someone is an athlete. It is another to see the sculpted muscle and lean lines that that entails. It’s a third to see all of that for the first time surrounded by mountains and powder and pine trees and perfectly lit by winter sunlight and the surrounding snow. Wei Ying wishes he had his camera. 

“The Heavens have blessed us this day.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan sounds both pleased and annoyed as he tucks his shirt into his backpack. The gemstone snowflake hangs between his collarbones, askew from his movement. 

“Seriously, Lan Zhan. Holy fuck. How is that fair?”

The man has a six-pack and sex lines and still manages to look genuinely confused by Wei Ying’s reaction. The audacity. 

“I bet you have a gym in your house, don’t you.”

“I do,” Lan Zhan says easily, putting his gloves back on and drawing attention to his forearms. As if Wei Ying weren’t already absurdly attracted to him. 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Lan Zhan’s shoulders and chest and arms flex as he pulls his poles out of the snow and gestures with one up the hill. It doesn’t even look deliberate which drives Wei Ying crazy. His snow pants sit low on his hips and Wei Ying wants, almost desperately, for a reason to make Lan Zhan go first so he can check out his back muscles as he hikes. Nothing comes to mind. He settles for maybe, possibly, getting a repeat wardrobe change on their next lap. 

Fuck, he wants to see those muscles work. 

“Yeah,” Wei Ying lets his eyes drag over Lan Zhan one more time before turning back up the trail, “I’m gonna go bury my head in the snow to cool off now. Thanks. Where’s an avalanche when you need one?” He stabs his poles into the snow and grabs his t-shirt from his waistband. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting my fucking shirt back on. I have enough self-esteem issues, thank --”

“Don’t.”

There’s something in Lan Zhan’s voice that forces Wei Ying to turn and look at him. Something vulnerable and raw.

“Don’t?”

“Please,” he says softly, “I like looking at you.”

Wei Ying feels speared open by that. He feels… The blush that creeps up his chest is bared already. 

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How are you so fucking sincere?”

Pink graces Lan Zhan’s ears as he holds Wei Ying’s eyes. He says nothing. He doesn’t look away. 

Wei Ying gives.

“Okay. Okay, the shirt’s staying off.”

When they reach the peak and start stripping the skins off their skis, Wei Ying does, in fact, stick his face in the snow. It only helps a little. 

They finish after a sixth lap. 

Lan Zhan does take off his shirt again as he leads the hike up. 

Wei Ying, somehow, doesn’t die about it. 

-

The next day, after lessons are closed, Lan Zhan meets him by the instructor lockers and hands him the thermos he’d taken home. When Wei Ying grabs it, it’s heavier than he expects and it sloshes like it’s full. He quirks an eyebrow at Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan just nods at it, clearly waiting for Wei Ying to take a sip. So he does. 

It’s hot and sweet and… alcoholic? It’s smooth and thick, but not syrupy, and smells spiced. 

“This is delicious, Lan Zhan!”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan looks smug as hell and says, “That is sake and cider.”

Wei Ying’s laughter can probably be heard all the way in HR, he shakes so hard with it. 

He loves it when Lan Zhan is a bitch. 

[felixsramen]

When i saw the part where y/n said that she was an introvert and loves reading i was in tears really i wanna thank this person that she reqested that!

So i wanna ask if you could do maybe a oneshot where y/n has a really down day couldnt sleep and when it was morning she was out for groceries and the members were at work and when they came home they saw y/n lying on the couch sleeping but with a book in their hand and the members realize how much y/n was struggling lately and they do something to help her getting better maybe? If thats okay for you i mean you dont habe to but i would really love that

I really liked this ask. Im sorry it's a little short though.

It was probably about 4am now. You were awake on the giant bed that your boyfriends had decided to buy so you all could sleep together. You were currently in-between Changbin and I.N. It was raining at this point and the rain matched your mood. You couldn't sleep after being stressed from work and getting that promotion that had you working later. Instead you climb out of the bed and make your way to the living room.

It hadn't been even a week of getting that promotion. You go to the blinds and open them all the way. You watch as another flash of lightning brightened the sky. You couldn't help but sit on the couch by the window looking out it.

The rain splattered across the sky and you watch as the leaves and tiny branches from the tree in the front yard come down. You couldn't help but cry. You had been yelled at yesterday by your boss for the stack of papers that she had gave you earlier in the week, when she had given you the promotion, hadn't all been filled out by yesterday.

Luckily she didn't force you to do another day of work and told you she expected it done when you returned. It didn't make you feel any better though knowing this was just the first week. It didn't help that your boyfriends were busy working and getting ready for their comeback. So they were staying late practicing and would come home tired and just ready to eat and rest. It didn't bother you much but you were starting to miss spending time with them.

You were sobbing at this point as the droplets hit your window covering it up. Eventually the tears dried and so did the rain but the clouds were still grey. You had stayed up all night and into the morning.

You hear the door open. The light turns on and you see Seungmin who has bed hair. He yawns and stretches. "What are you doing in here this early?" He asks you in his morning voice.

"Couldn't sleep." You tell him and he makes his way to the couch. He goes up to you and climbs onto the couch cuddling into you. Your hand goes to his hair and he sighs.

"They'll be getting up in a few minutes. I have to get ready for work too." He says yawning again. Your nails go into his hair and scratch his scalp and he sighs with content.

He slowly pulls away from you reluctantly. He goes into the room again probably to get the rest of the boys up. Within 30 minutes the house is full with your 8 boyfriends.

"Fucking hell. It's too early for this." Jisung whines onto Hyunjin who is half asleep but ready to go on the other couch.

Your other 6 boyfriends make their way to the living room. "I really don't want to go. Sometimes I wish I had decided to do literally anything else that doesn't involve me waking up at the ass crack of dawn." Minho grumbles as he grabs the keys.

Chan nods eyes heavy as he takes a sip of his coffee. "I'm so tired." Jisung whines again.

"Lets go. They said they'd let us leave work early and then we'll have a couple days off after." Chan says taking another sip of the coffee he made.

The boys file out of the house waving at you and telling you they love you. Changbin sighs. "We'll be back around 1." He says bag on his shoulder.

"I'd appreciate it if you went shopping today. I left money on the nightstand." Minho says yawning and you nod your head.

"I love you." He says and you return it. He sighs as he closes the door behind him. You let out your own sigh.

You weren't feeling much better. You instead went on your phone scrolling through for the next few hours before you decide to go to the grocery store.

You don't feel good about yourself so you throw on a pair of sweatpants and one of Felixs hoodie, opting on going for a more lazy look. Who cared anyways? It was just the grocery store. You grab the money that sat on the nightstand and you put it in your wallet and grab your purse shoving it inside.

It didn't take you long getting in the car and going to the store. Luckily Minho had made a list of things that you needed to get. You were quick to find them knowing you couldn't stand being out in public at the moment. You checked the list once again making sure you had gotten everything.

Your phone buzzes. "Also me and Bin need protein shakes for working out. Love you and thank you!" A message from Chan reads. You try your best not to make a face at the mention of the protein shakes Chan and Changbin would chug. You sigh but go towards that aisle.

You quickly grab it and check out. You were glad the house wasn't too far. You got home and put the groceries up quickly and it was around noon. You wondered if the boys kept your book out that you had currently been reading or if Minho had put it up with the rest of your books.

You go to the drawer occupying the room and open it finding your book. Luckily the bookmark was in it still. Jisung had a habit of picking your book up wrong and the bookmark falling out of it. You grab the book shutting the drawer. You make your way to the hall closet grabbing an extra blanket from there and making your place on the couch.

You had gotten halfway through the book before your eyes started getting heavy. Not being able to sleep last night must've taken a toll on you because before long your eyes give up on you.

The boys pull up to the house getting out. "Why did we have to be there so long today? I thought we were getting out at 3." He complains as he grabs his bag.

"We would've left around 1 if you spent more time practicing than complaining about doing it." Hyunjin says glaring at his boyfriend.

"It was hard and we were there all dayyyy." Jisung says dragging out his last word.

Minho raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "You literally got it in like 20 minutes after you stopped complaining." He says as Chan grabs the keys from his pocket.

"So you're saying it's all my fault?" He says pouting.

"No it's not Ji. You weren't the only one complaining instead of practicing we all were." Changbin says as Chan unlocks the door letting them inside.

"Y/N!!!!" Jisung yells out for you ready to jump on you and smother you with love. Instead he sees you on the couch with a blanket and one of your books laying on you.

He comes up to you and the boys follow behind. Usually you'd be up doing stuff around the house to keep you busy while your boyfriends were gone on your off days.

"She's asleep." Jisung says to his boyfriends.

"We can see that Ji." Hyunjin says to him. Jisung glares at his boyfriend.

"You know what I meant." Jisung says looking back at you.

"I don't think she slept at all last night." Seungmin says speaking up to his boyfriends. They look at him confused.

He sighs. "I got up before you guys and I didn't see her so of course I went looking for her. I saw her looking out the window on the couch. So I went up to her and asked what she was doing up so early. She told me she couldn't sleep." Seungmin says to his boyfriends and they look at you concerned.

"I woke up at one point and noticed she wasn't in bed but I didn't think much of it at the time. I was too tired." Felix says to his boyfriends.

"How long has she been like this?" Changbin asks no one in particular.

"I think we should be concerned Chan." I.N. says and he nods.

"I don't think any of us realized how much she's going through especially with the new promotion." Minho says sighing.

Chan nods once again. Minho grabs the book and places the book mark in it. He sighs watching you.

"Should we wake her?" Hyunjin asks his boyfriends. Chan shakes his head.

"Not yet." Minho says agreeing with Chan.

"We should at least take her to the room." Felix says and they nod. Changbin scoops you up into his arms careful to not wake you up taking you in the room and laying you down.

Jisung and I.N. climb in bed too pressing their bodies against you. You cuddle into I.N.s chest who stays still. "Since we have the next few days off I think we should come up with days we each try and spend with her." Chan says and the boys agree.

"Me, Hyunjin, and Innie were going to go to the new little coffee shop tomorrow. We were planning on inviting her too." Seungmin says replying to his boyfriend.

"Okay good. For the next few days we're off let's all invite her to go with us wherever we go." Changbin says watching you.

You slowly open your eyes to being cuddled behind and in front of you. "Hey love. How'd you sleep?" Jisung asks from behind you.

"Better." You say sighing and rubbing your eyes. You try to sit up but I.N. and Jisung keep you in place.

"Did you sleep last night?" Changbin asks you concerned. They finally let you go so you can look at your other boyfriends. They all have concerned looks on their faces as you sigh.

"No." You say admitting it and Chan comes up beside I.N. and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Are you guys upset at me?" You ask them. You quickly get all 8 boys shaking their heads.

"Not at all we're just worried about you that's it." Minho tells you and you want to break into tears at their words.

You can't help but bite your lip to try and stop the tears. Chan sighs seeing you do that with a sad smile on his face. "What did I tell you about that?" He says hand coming to your face tugging your lip from your teeth.

That does it and you burst into tears. All of the boys quickly try and comfort you by hugging you. "It's okay love." You hear Seungmin say and that causes you to cry harder. "I missed you guys." You sob into their arms and they feel guilty about not being able to spend as much time with you.

When your tears finally stop the boys pull away but Felix doesn't. "You have to take care of yourself. Okay? No matter how much you miss us. You have to promise us that okay?" Felix says holding a pinky promise and you can't help but smile at the childish gesture. You take his pinky finger in yours too.

"I promise." You say and he kisses your hand.

"HUG PILE!!!" Jisung shouts and he throws himself on you followed by the rest of your boyfriends.

"You're squishing me!" You manage to say while laughing.

"Yeah. With our love." Hyunjin says making you laugh harder.

The boys pull away not before each kissing you on the lips. "We all love you no matter how busy we get. Remember that." Hyunjin says planting another kiss on your lips.

You were grateful to have all of your 8 boyfriends love for you and each other.

[justrainandcoffee]

Daughter (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) ~ Final + Epilogue.

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) Masterlist

Summary: Alfie and Rose are about to face the most difficult time of their lives. But they are not alone, because little Allie is there to be with them. Now and 18 years into the future, too.

Warnings: Some parts could be angst. But mostly fluff. || Inaccurate medical terms, maybe (I'm not a doctor) Mentions of difficult pregnancy and birth.

Words: 3.K || Part 1. Series Masterlist (the first part was posted on my other blog @raincoffeeandfandoms)

The next morning dawned cloudy. Rose was still in bed and had decided not to go to work that day, she just didn't feel like going out to face the world. Her husband was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and Cyril was lying on his side next to her.

The dog was looking at her and even though Rose's mood was not the best, she couldn't help but smile. The animal knew how to make her feel better. Cyril settled even closer to her and sniffed her. Then he rested his head on her belly.

He had never growled at Alfie before, but he did when Alfie approached Rose to give her a cup of coffee and a kiss on the forehead. Alfie had the innate reaction of pulling his hand away.

"What's wrong with you, boy?" Alfie looked at his dog confused by his behaviour. "What's that protective attitude of yours? I'm not going to hurt her!"

"He must think you're going to kick him out of bed and lie in his side," she replied, smiling.

"His side?"

"I don't make the rules, Al."

"You're lucky that I love you, Cyril."

The dog wagged his tail but didn't lift his head from Rose. "You'll be all right, sweetheart?"

The night before had been too unexpected and too much of a roller coaster of emotions for him. Alfie had tried not to think about everything she had said to him as he held her to his chest but it wasn't easy. On the one hand there was the science that said his wife was pregnant but on the other, two tests had said otherwise. It was true that pregnancy tests sometimes failed, but it was also true that it was not uncommon for a blood test to have someone else's name on it. Late though it was, Rose had fallen asleep but Alfie had not. He couldn't sleep, so he spent the whole night being invaded by thoughts he hadn't had before. Perhaps because of being tired, he hadn't noticed that Cyril's protective attitude might mean something.

"I'll be fine. I'll just stay in and read and enjoy your breakfast. Go, Al, maybe a day off is what I need."

"Call me. Love, call me anything you need."

"I'm going to be fine. Don't worry about me." Rose didn't know how wrong she was.

Breakfast had been good and, as always, Alfie's baking did not fail to lift her spirits. After settling under the covers again, she picked up the book she was reading and continued it. Or tried to. Her mind was not really with her but with the doctor she was tye previous day.

"Medicine is a developing science… it doesn't explain everything." The woman's voice was in her head and on the desk she shared with Alfie was the card of the obstetrician surnamed Jackson.

She stroked Cyril's head before closing the book and deciding to sleep. Turning off the brain in such cases was the best thing to do.

But she didn't last long in bed. A little over an hour later, she got up and rushed to the bathroom and Alfie's tasty breakfast ended up going down the toilet.

She slowly stood up and walked over to the sink where she wet her face and then looked at herself in the mirror for several minutes. Drops of water fell down her face.

"Fuck…" she said to her reflection. "Fuck."

That was the first of her symptoms, not counting the repeated cravings. And over the next four days, others began to appear, such as unpleasant smells that only she could sense and mood swings that became more evident. Finally, that same fourth day, it was Alfie who called Dr. Jackson to make an appointment for his wife.

If there was a baby inside her, there was only one way to find out and that was with an ultrasound.

The warmth of spring was beginning to be felt, but Rose was cold. Not physically, but it was an icy sensation that ran down her spine and if it wasn't for the fact that she hadn't been able to eat breakfast, she would probably have ended up throwing up in the waiting room as well. Usually she was the one trying to stay calm, but this time Alfie was the one in charge of that. He took her hand in his and forced her to take a deep breath. It was going to be all right, he said.

Dr. Jackson was a black woman with a friendly smile. Perhaps she could see the panic in Rose's eyes because the first thing she did was give her a glass of water and ask her to sit down. She told her the same thing that Dr. Garrett, the first one to see Rose, had told her: sometimes miracles happen. But if Rose still had any doubts, Dr. Jackson would be happy to answer them.

With Alfie beside her again and as she lay on the stretcher, Rose reached for his hand. She was thankful it wasn't an electrocardiogram because at that moment her heart was about to burst out of her chest. Her mind was in another dimension.

The cold gel on her abdomen brought her back to reality.

"Let's see," Jackson said and a smile spread across his face. "Well, there it is. That there, that's your baby."

There on the screen was what Rose had so far refused to believe was possible. At last it had been true. In the end, it had happened. Alfie would swear he had never cried when he saw that little dot on the screen that was his son. But it was a lie because he had cried.

It was April 2024 and Rose and Alfie were looking at their baby for the first time. Eight weeks pregnant, the doctor said, and only now could she see that it was true. It must have been in that week in mid-February that Rose and Alfie decided to travel to a Scottish island. They hadn't been able to enjoy the scenery because a storm had forced them to stay inside the hotel but they had found other ways to spend their time and now that had been exposed. It was incredible, if they thought about it, that this had not happened in the nearly seven months they had spent locked in the Inn, with little and nothing to do in those days except having sex.

Dr. Jackson was also honest with them. As much as the pregnancy was unexpected, almost impossible to happen, it was also risky. It didn't mean that in the months ahead Rose should spend her entire days in bed, but that she should be more careful than any normal pregnant person should be. But also, she said, with more frequent check-ups everything should be fine. For now the baby was completely healthy.

In the weeks that followed, Alfie was more protective of her than usual. She should do nothing if he could do it, and even went so far as to propose hiring a maid, which she refused. There was no need because she was fully aware of what she could and could not do. Besides, Alfie had reduced the hours he spent inside the Inn working so the time they spent apart was almost nil. The two of them had started to prepare the new room that would be for the baby. Cot, nappies, toys, clothes, everything they thought would be needed and maybe more. Including a T-shirt for Cyril announcing that he would be the big brother of the family.

Without much fuss, more quietly than Alfie and Rose would have expected, two more months passed. Only now was her bulging belly beginning to show. In her husband's eyes, she had never looked more beautiful than she did now.

Dorothy and Allie had just entered the Inn a June afternoon. The mother was starting her shift and the girl, as usual, fresh from kindergarten, was planning to spend those hours with Alfie. Only this time Rose was there.

A big smile came across the girl's face when she saw her, considering she hadn't seen her for several weeks.

"Mom Rose!" The little girl ran up to kiss her on the cheek and then put a hand on her belly. "You're huge!"

"Thanks, Allie? I'll take that as a compliment. I have something to show you, come." Rose patted the armchair where she was sitting and Allie settled in next to her. From inside a notebook, she pulled out her most recent ultrasound done earlier that morning. Neither she nor Alfie could any longer conceal the joy they both had.

From behind the counter, Alfie listened to the exchange of words between his wife and the girl.

"Is this the baby?" she asked.

"Yes, but there's more to it than that, Allie. Now we can say that you will be his big sister."

"His? But I… the dream was a girl."

"I know, maybe it was… I don't know, like an angel? Or something?"

"No! It was a girl! I saw her, I talked to her. She was your daughter! She had long hair and she was beautiful!"

"But the one inside me is a boy, Allie. Joshua David Solomons."

"A boy! Is his name going to be Joshua?"

"Yes, it's an important Jewish name and both Alfie and I like it. So does David. Maybe not the little sister you were hoping for, but a brother."

"Maybe I was wrong…"

"Allie," said Rose, kissing her on the forehead. "I don't know anyone who has been more right about anything than you. Even when we all didn't believe it was possible you were the first and only one who was right about the baby. Even if it's not a girl."

Allie smiled hugely. At least that was true. The girl looked at the ultrasound again and although it was fuzzy she could make out the shape of the baby.

"Joshua…" she repeated the name and then looked at Rose. "I think I'll call him Jo. I think he might like it."

"Jo, then! I'm sure he does, sweetheart."

If Joshua Solomons could have given any sign of being happy to hear his name in the little girl's voice, he surely would have done so.

Seven months pregnant now and Rose's belly was really noticeable compared to her height, but it was tender to see. And also was what no one else could see: all the Alfie leaned gently against his wife, feeling his son inside her. If, years ago, Alfie had been asked if he was considering such a life he probably would have said no. And Rose would have said the same, because it was the last thing she would have expected.

It was mid-September when the worst began.

Alfie had had to go to the bank and had told Rose that Tommy would be by to pick up some papers. So that's why he was there. And fortunately he was there.

"…so, tomorrow I'm going to look for Alfie, to… Rose?"

Tommy threw the papers on the floor and walked over to her who had just leaned on the table and winced in pain.

"No, no! It's too early! No!"

"Rose, what's wrong!" Tommy had a hand behind her back and a worried look on his face.

"The baby… it's two months away! Not yet!" she replied, but the pain in her abdomen made her scream.

"To the hospital, now."

Tommy called out to Alfie from the car as he drove, flashing his lights to let him pass. In the seat next to him, his friend's wife was breathing heavily and her eyes were teary. For Tommy, the hospital had never been so far away. But he had never felt such relief in his life as when he saw the building in the distance.

A nurse and doctor put Rose in a wheelchair and wheeled her in. Tommy would not see her again until two days later. Alfie arrived ten minutes after them and also came in after his wife. Doctors had no choice but to perform a caesarean section if they wanted to save the baby's life. At just seven months gestation, Joshua Solomons had decided it was time to come into the world.

It was by far the smallest thing either of them had ever seen. Weighing barely a kilo, it could easily fit into one of his father's hands. But he was clearly in no condition to go home. Even when Rose recovered and was discharged, the baby remained in the hospital and would do so for the next ninety days.

Alfie hired a new employee to cover his work hours and devoted full time to caring for his son and wife. Not only was Joshua small, he was also fragile. Day and night, he and Rose took turns watching him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was normal for the whole family to return home after a few days, but that hadn't happened for them.

"When can I see him?" asked Allie one afternoon when she happened to meet Alfie at the Inn.

"You can't now, sweetheart. But in a little while, perhaps, you'll be able to meet him."

"How is she? And how are you?" This time it was Dorothy who spoke.

"I'm so tired. I hardly sleep and Rosie… Rosie doesn't want to leave the hospital. Last week, the baby went into intensive care and I thought I was going to lose Rose and my son at the same time. It's harder than I can say."

"Hey, Alfie…" Dorothy put a hand on his arm "the child has your blood and hers. He's a fighter. And this is only temporary. Before either of you know it, all three of you will be able to be in the house."

"Do you think so? I wish, because it's very difficult to see someone so small connected to numerous wires and tubes. Rose can't breastfeed him yet because the baby would drown, so he's only feed through a tube and it's killing Rosie. My poor Rosie."

Dorothy, smiled at him "she's lucky to have you. Don't worry, Alfie, I told you…it's going to pass."

The first improvements began to show after almost 50 days. Joshua had gained weight considerably, considering how small he was, and he had opened his eyes as well. Once again Allie had been right: his eyes were just like Rose's, but his face was just like his father's. It was impossible to deny that he was his son.

The first time he could actually hold him in his arms it felt like holding humanity's most valuable treasure. In those days, too, Rose slept normally again, and that was something that reassured Alfie. To feel her in his arms again, at peace, was one of the many things Alfie had prayed for.

Weeks later, when they arrived at the hospital they found that Joshua no longer had feeding tubes. That was the first time Rose was able to breastfeed him and both of them (plus other parents who were in the same situation as them) ended up smiling and crying at the same time. But not Joshua, the baby seemed more than happy to finally feel his mother closer. That day was also the first time Alfie sent a picture of the baby to everyone he knew. All the previous ones were on his phone, but that one in particular had to be shared.

If they had been Christians, it would have been a Christmas miracle. But they weren't, so it could be considered a Hanukkah miracle.

It was December, London was illuminated by thousands of lights, when at last Joshua was allowed to go home to his parents. He would meet Cyril, something their poor dog had long been waiting for, and he would also meet little Allie. For if anyone deserved to see the baby, it was she.

It was still daylight when the three Solomons left the hospital. Alfie was driving while in the back seat his wife was with their son, making sure nothing would happen. But the little boy, oblivious to everything, simply slept.

Allie met Joshua three days later. The girl and her mother had gone to their house at the invitation of Alfie and Rose. The girl could barely contain her joy when she saw the baby.

"It's really tiny."

"Yes, he is," Alfie replied. "But he's growing fast."

"I'm going to be the best sister in the world."

There was no argument about that. Allie had decided that Alfie and Rose were her parents at heart so, logically, Joshua was her brother. And from that moment on and in the years that followed Allie would keep her word.

Epilogue. 18 years later.

"Well, Jo… here I am. Sorry, work kept me busy all day."

"Don't worry."

Allie, now 22 years old, looked at her brother with intrigue. He wasn't her blood brother, but the two of them had grown up together as if they were, and on more than one occasion Allie had stood up to anyone who tried to bother him. Because no matter what Joshua was her brother. And now that he was legally an adult, that hadn't changed, even if he was taller than she was.

"Well, tell me."

Locked in his room, Allie followed the boy's eyes as he began to walk in circles.

"Mom and Dad already know," Joshua said, "but there's something I need to tell you."

Allie's eyes widened "oh my god… you got a girl pregnant!"

"What the fuck, Allie, no!"

"Sure? Joshua!" The girl stood up and grabbed him by the shoulders. He sat her back down on the bed.

"Will you shut up? Listen to me!"

From the kitchen, where Alfie was looking at his phone and Rose was finishing some emails, they could both hear Allie's high-pitched, happy cry.

"She knows now, Rosie. Allie's going to make our lives impossible now."

"In the end, as always, she was right. But how were we to know?"

.

"I knew it! I knew it! Over time I convinced myself that what I saw in my dreams was a figment of the imagination of the little girl I was, but no! Deep down I knew it! Oh my God!"

Allie was standing on the bed and only realised where she was when the excitement of the first few seconds passed.

"Tell me something!" her sibling demanded.

Allie jumped off the bed onto the floor and with the biggest smile she could muster, spread her arms wide. The words she had just heard rang in her head: 'I am not a boy. I don't identify as a boy, I identify as a woman. I don't want the pronouns he or him but she or her. And the name… I am simply Jo. Jo Solomons.'

Allie wrapped her arms around her sister and felt tears burn in her eyes, "You're the sister I dreamed of. I literally dreamed you, Jo. You showed up in my life before mum and dad even knew you existed. I love you, Jo and I'm going to be the best sister you'll ever imagine and… fuck, I'm crying. Jo Solomons, you're beautiful and perfect and I'm going to take care of you until the last day of my life because that's what big sisters do. Because if anyone says anything to you, I swear I'm going to haunt them for the rest of their life."

"I'm bigger than you now!"

"I don't care. You'll always be my little sister. Mum and Dad, what did they say?"

"I don't think they could have reacted any better. Dad was silent for a few minutes, in shock, I think, but finally they both went "okay, you have our support. We love you" And literally the dinner that followed was like nothing happened. And dad greeted me this morning with 'good morning, my girl.'"

"Papa Alfie is the best. But, now I need to go and talk to them. I need to tell them that I, Allie Brown Solomons at heart, even when it took me 18 years to prove this, I always knew they were going to have a daughter."

[drpeppertummy]

Put val in a tight suit and stuff him <3

Pickin On Him,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

[light stuffing, little bit of tummy care]

"I feel like a goofball," said Val, looking with amused distaste at his reflection.

"Well, I think you look very handsome." Connie reached around him to adjust his bow tie, then kissed him on the cheek. He smiled.

"Good enough for me." He fidgeted with the buttons of his suit jacket. "Do you think it's too small?"

"Seems impossible," she teased, and he rolled his eyes at her. "No, I think it looks fine. Maybe a tiny bit snug, but I doubt anybody would notice."

Val had been dreading the formal work party ever since he heard about it. It wasn't that he didn't like parties; Val was a very social creature, and he was always glad to get together with his colleagues. It was the formal aspect that had him worried. While he tended to keep himself looking put together, he was more of a business casual guy, and he hated getting all dressed up. Nobody ever had any fun in a suit, he'd always said. Still, he supposed it wouldn't be too bad. He'd catch up with a few people and have a few snacks, and then he could slip out.

It wasn't long into the evening before Val realized that the suit was, in fact, too small.

Val was a skinny man, and the waist of the pants had just barely fit around his narrow middle when he'd put them on. Now, a few snacks and a couple drinks later, he was beginning to feel constricted. The snug pants pushed his tummy up and out, and he wondered how long it would be before they popped open. He could feel his jacket tightening around his belly as well. If he were at home, he'd have gladly unbuttoned it, but the idea of showing off his bloated tummy to all his coworkers wasn't exactly appealing.

"Hey Val, you alright? You look a little off," said a friend, giving Val a pat on the back. He smiled up at her.

"I'm okay. Tired," he said, and he was only half lying.

"Why don't you come eat something? That'll wake you up a little," she suggested, and before he could think of a way out, she swept him off for another bite.

Val couldn't get out of the party soon enough. He said his goodbyes to the people he cared to say them to, feigning a migraine, and slipped away before anybody could catch him. He unbuttoned his jacket the moment he stepped out the door. He regretted that quickly--it was chilly out--but he found himself unable to get the buttons fastened again over his belly. He'd lost track of what he'd eaten over the course of the hour or so he'd been there, but he felt absolutely stuffed, and his tummy pushed out hard against his too-tight pants. Truthfully, he hadn't eaten an unusual amount; the stupid suit was just so tight that he felt like he'd eaten a horse.

Connie covered her mouth at the sight of her weary little husband coming through the door, trying not to laugh. He gave her an exhausted look, then flopped onto his back on the couch, undoing his pants with a heavy sigh. Removing that pressure was a tremendous relief; he was astonished the fly hadn't popped open on its own by now. Connie sat down beside his head, still looking amused, and placed a hand on his tummy.

"So I guess the suit was too small after all, huh?" She smiled regretfully and rubbed his sore belly.

"All part of your wicked plot to get me home sooner, I'm sure," he teased, and she laughed.

"Yeah, right! Hey, that's good, I'll write that down for next time," she said. He grinned up at her. She leaned over him to untuck his shirt, and as she did, he craned his neck awkwardly to kiss any bit of skin he could reach, with little success.

"You better quit it," she giggled, tugging his shirt up to examine his belly. There was a harsh red mark slashed across it where the pants had been pressing tightly into his skin. "Oh, gosh, Val!"

"Told you it was too small."

"I'll say," she said, wincing. She rubbed the mark gently, then an idea dawned on her. "Want me to kiss it better?"

"Connie, I don't know what I'd do without you," he said. Smiling, she leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek, then leaned over his tummy once more.

[joeyleesblog]

If he said he felt that way, what would you say?

Notices: self hate, depression, suicidal idealization.

Post 1

......................................

Spider was tired of these therapy sessions.

"I don't want to do this anymore" And He finally said. Tarah just raises an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation of her words. "I'm tired of this, okay?" Frustration seeped heavily from his voice and face. "It's been months and I haven't felt better. It's a waste of time, all of it." Spider will feel guilty later on for practically disregarding all the effort Dr. Tarah is doing her best to help him, but at the moment he doesn't care, he is tired, frustrated and unhappy.

"Spider" The woman's tone is patient, "remember what I said at the beginning?"

Spider sighs.

"This therapy does not have a fixed end date, but takes as long as it takes." "

"And that your cooperation is essential." Tarah adds gently. "We're making progress, believe me."

Spider clenches his fists and grinds his teeth. "What progress?! What progress, huh?! I still feel like shit. I still hate myself to the point where I want to pierce my heart with a spear! So you told me what progress we're making!" The boy gets up from his chair and starts pacing back and forth with heavy breathing.

Tarah takes a deep breath and remains seated.

"Sit down Spider and take a deep breath." The woman asks calmly. "Take a deep breath and calm down, please."

Spider listens, sitting heavily in the chair, trying to control his breathing with the exercises the woman taught him. After a few minutes, his breathing returns to normal, but he still feels anxious and wants to go back to his room and doesn't come out anymore.

After seeing that the teen has calmed down, Tarah speaks in the diligent voice.

"Spider, healing is not something quick and linear, but a gradual and painful process, but it will be worth it in the end. But you have to want to heal and accept that you deserve to be healed."

Spider makes an impatient sound.

"You keep saying that. Norm and Max too. You tell me that I need to forgive myself, that I'm not a bad person and I don't deserve anything that happened to me." He looked into the woman's eyes. "But how do I do it? How can I do it? Nobody tells me how, because it's not possible."

Tarah sighs wearily at Spider's challenging gaze, but then her mind clears and determination dawns on her face.

"Very well. Let's start making you forgive yourself now. Close your eyes." When the teen just turned his head indifferently, Tarah was firmer. "Close your eyes."

Spider huffed, but finally closed it.

"Okay. I want you to tell me why you hate yourself so much and I want you to be honest."

Spider took a deep breath, already feeling a tightness in his throat and a slight burning in his eyes.

"I am a traitor. I am weak. I am not wanted."

"Why?" The question made Spider swallow back a sob.

"He did terrible things. He's horrible, but I saved him anyway. I couldn't, couldn't do anything to stop him from destroying that village and hurting the people. I only stayed on Pandora because it wouldn't survive the journey to earth."

"When did you start feeling unwanted?" Spider shrugged.

"I think when I was eight." Tarah watched with a pained look.

"So that's the root of it all. Okay. You can open your eyes." Spider opened his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. "Now, i want you to imagine yourself as a child, when you were eight years old."

Spider frowned at the request, but he answered and imagined as much as he could, he looked to the side and there was little Spider, with a calm face.

"That's the little boy who thinks he's a traitor, weak and unwanted, because he's you, Spider. Do you understand that?"

The teen gave a weak wave.

""Tell that little boy he's a traitor. That he's weak and nobody wants him!"

Spider didn't open his mouth, but Tarah remained relentless.

"Tell him he's evil, tell him you hate him so much you want him dead."

"To stop."

"Tell him he deserved everything the RDA did to him! Tell him he's responsible for his father doing those cruel things! Say he should have been sent to earth!"

"No." "

"Say it, Spider."

"No!" Spider screams, tears already streaming down his face. ""Stop, just stop." He begs

Tarah stops and gives him a few seconds before delivering the finishing blow.

"But you already said it. Today, yesterday. Every day, when you say all those things to yourself."

Spider purses her lips and looks at the tiny version of herself, who still has a calm expression on her face, as if she doesn't carry all the burden of being unwanted because of her parents' sins.

"What do you want to tell him?" Tarah's voice is soft again. "To this boy who feels so bad about himself, what do you mean?"

"That he's not bad." Spider cries. "Pandora is his home, not earth. And he didn't deserve to go through all that hell and there was nothing he could do to stop Quaritch. He's not... he's loyal, more than anyone else."

The woman nods with a smile on her lips.

"This is what you need to tell yourself. When you feel awful and anxious and unworthy, say those things you would say to that little boy. This is how you begin to forgive and heal yourself, Spider."

Spider sniffs and nods frankly.

"O-okay."

...

this was totally inspired by My Mad Fat Diary.

[sxilor-1010]

Yule Log

Words: 1074

☾★☾★☾★

Getting caught up in work, it’s easy to forget to have time for yourself, especially during the holidays. She’s heard a lot of concerns and reminders from her coworkers, and all of them went by her head saying she’s “relaxed a bit.”

It was her day off, and she had been fighting off the urge to work through celebrating Christmas. Or, in her case, Yule. Now, she wouldn’t say she was a witch. She liked magic, but magic in a world full of technology isn’t known too much.

Why do magic when you have many robots already doing stuff for you? Well for starters, they don’t know how to make a proper Yule log. Which is exactly what Emilyn is doing to celebrate her day off.

Sure she had to go some shopping for some of the things needed, but a little shopping never hurt her. Her table was dawned in bright red plaid, courtesy of Djenne and its amazing fabrics, with a fresh wooden log and other things.

Emilyn hummed to herself, holding a knife as she approached the table. With the log in her hands, she began to carefully carve holes big enough for the candles to fit. The wood emanated a nice scent, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes to admire it all. Her mouth moved on its own, just mumbling a song she remembered hearing while scrolling through YouTube earlier.

“God rest ye merry, pagan folk,

Let nothing you dismay.

Remember that the Sun returns

Upon this Solstice day.

The growing dark is ending now

And Spring is on its way.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy…”

Before Emilyn could continue singing, the distant noises of an aerial jet had caught the wind in her ears. Her hands stopped carving and she opened her eyes, looking towards a nearby window to see a familiar face smirk at her. “I didn’t think you’d stop by today, Starscream.” Emilyn approached the window, opening it to look at his face.

“My plans haven’t been the greatest this year, and I’m tired. What better way to relax than to accompany my little moon~?” He said slyly, Emilyn blushing just a bit as he moved a digit to caress her cheek. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood to handle your flirts. Might as well come in.” Starscream smirked, drawing back his digit and walking to her door. Emilyn closed her window and opened the door, the Decepticon now mass displaced.

It wouldn’t be long before Starscream took notice of Emilyn’s little project, and he walked over with curiosity. “What are you making here?” Emilyn turned, smiling just a little bit before taking a seat back down. “It’s a yule log, just something to celebrate for this year…” Her words slightly drifted when turning to face Starscream, confusion glinted slightly in his crimson optics. “Oh, right… You’re probably not aware of Yule or Christmas, huh?”

“No, I’m not. Perhaps you can give me some insight later…” The Decepticon spoke, grabbing a chair of his own to sit next to Emilyn. She chuckled, keeping that as a mental note in the back of her mind. “Alright well, you can watch what I’m doing if you want. Up to you.” With that, Emilyn got back to carving, and Starscream watched intently, curiosity soon drifting towards the other items around her. There were a few candles, greenery branches of pine and cedar, not to mention dried fruits and pinecones.

“Quite the inventory of primitive materials, but what does one do with all of this?” Starscream spoke, plucking a pine branch in between his fingers to get a feel. Emilyn turned towards him, grabbing that branch and placing it back into the nearby pile. “You decorate this log, and supposedly it brings good luck and warmth to those who light the candles. It also wards off bad energy from harming you.” Ah, superstitious stuff. He should’ve guessed. “Peh, superstitious and magical nonsense. Humans are weird.”

That was enough to have Emilyn frown at Starscream, who laughed and smirked. “Well, not nonsense to you, my dear.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing the nearby hot glue gun and the pine branch he was fiddling with earlier. “Does magic not exist as a concept to you guys?” She turned to face Starscream, who placed a couple of digits on his chin in thought. “Not as much as you’d like to think. It exists in concept, but it was never said to be shown.” Huh, so it did exist in some way at least.

“That makes sense, given you and the Autobots are from a planet of metal, right?” Starscream nodded, albeit frowned a bit at the mention of the Autobots. “Magic can’t exist in a place that has metal, or iron. One of the two.” Emilyn spoke, Starscream watching carefully with curious optics as she glued the various nature pieces she had gathered onto the log. “I like to believe that even within today’s times, there’s still magic in this world. Hell, there might be pixies and fairies dancing outside my house right now and I wouldn’t even know it.”

Starscream looked in quiet awe seeing the once naked log now adorned in pine branches and dried fruits, not to mention the interesting scent it gave off. It surely was something magical, but it felt like something was also missing. Luckily, Emilyn was just about to get to that when grabbing ahold of the long candles. “Alright, I’m gonna need your help on this one. You’re gonna hold these perfectly still while I add glue onto the bottom.” The Decepticon looked in confusion but grabbed one of the candles nonetheless. It felt waxy amongst his digits, but it was a nice shade of red. He watched as Emilyn took the glue gun, adding a nice warm dollop to the bottom.

“What do you do once you’re done with this… ‘yule log’?” He asked curiously, Emilyn moving the glue gun away to glue the sides of the holes she carved out earlier. “Well, you just kinda leave it somewhere nice to burn until the end of Christmas. There’s not much else to it.” He nods, Emilyn taking the candle and placing it on the far right. “Only two more and then we’re done.”

“Maybe after we’re finished, I can explain Yule to you.” Hearing that, Starscream smirked lightly and chuckled.

He’d appreciate that very much.

[amortentiainmyfirewhiskey]

|marrón pt.2|

post-azkanban sirius x reader

wc: +2k

Part: 1 pt.3

(Y/N) awoke to the sound of the kids stomping down the stairs, probably already dressed and having breakfast before leaving to go to Diagon Alley. She rolled out of bed and drug a tattooed hand over her face before looking at the clock that said 7:32 am. Oh hell no. There was no way in hell she was getting dressed this early, she didn't care who's house she was in. 

The (y/h/c) stood and glanced at herself in the old dresser's mirror, it wasn't like she was wearing anything inappropriate; she supposed the only thing Molly might frown on would be the fact you could see her thighs, that again, were covered in tattoos, but she didn't care.

There was no color in her tattoos, just skin and bold black ink. She had begun getting them officially at 16, if you didn't count the stick and pokes her and Vesta would give each other at thirteen during their time at Ilvermorny.

(Y/N) glanced at the faded shape of a penis on the inside of her elbow and grinned, they were fucking stupid, huh? Though the memory was light, her heart grew heavy at the reminder Vesta wasn't there anymore, somewhere better hopefully.

But how the hell would she know?

Not a moment later she trudged down the stairs and stopped in her tracks when her hand landed on the doorknob to the kitchen. She made sure to pull down her shorts as much as she could and fix her shirt to make sure her bra wasn't showing. I mean they were kids.

" Good morning, squad!" she announced as soon as she swung the door open. The occupants of the room jumped about a foot in the air and did a double take when they saw her. She knew it wasn't because she wasn't dressed for the day or something stupid like that, she knew it was because they had never seen her without a leather jacket or jeans.

Yeah, she had some pretty tattoos, but she had some that were a bit more colorful. Next to the roman numerals that represented Kumiko's birthday on her forearm was a simple drawing of a hand presenting its middle finger proudly. On her upper arm was a beautifully drawn compass pointing West in honor of Connor's last name, and underneath was 'SLUT' written in pretty cursive. She had plenty like that.

" Woah," said a once tired Tonks who now looked wide awake, " How many do you have?"

(Y/N) looked to the table to see all the room's occupants looking at her with astonished expressions. Her throat tightened and an anxious shiver shot down her spine, but she managed to compose herself and smirked, " Couldn't tell ya," she chuckled.

When was the last time this nonchalant way of acting felt normal? When was the last time her witty remarks made herself laugh? She couldn't tell ya.

Even in the morning Grimmauld place's kitchen felt cold, dark, and stuffy, " I've been getting them since I was sixteen, " she added grabbing a coffee mug.   " What's that one mean?" asked Mr. Weasley.

(Y/N) was surprised when he asked, and it looked like everyone else was as well. The older man had the decency to look a little embarrassed, " Well it's a creature I've never seen before!" he said defending himself with his arms crossed. (yn)'s nose scrunched up in confusion when it dawned on her what tattoo he was referring to.

She looked down at the old faded stick and poke she had forgotten about on the side of her right knee to see Woodstock, Snoopy's friend, staring straight ahead. She burst out laughing at the realization and when Hermione, Harry, and the other half-bloods figured out what she was laughing at they too joined in, leaving the purebloods confused and squinting at her knee.

After the commotion settled down, she plopped down next to Tonks and ate her share of breakfast as Mrs. Weasley rolled out the itinerary for the day. She could feel the teens glancing toward her every now and then, she was flattered by their curiosity but also a little disturbed.

A year ago, she would have gotten off on the attention but now she wanted to crawl under a rug rather than explain her life to a couple of teenagers. 

“ It must be interesting being an auror in the states,” said Ron finally, unable to contain his enthusiasm. 

She looked up from her eggs and shrugged, “ It was,” she began, “ But for the most part it was kind of a bummer,” 

The rest of the room driven by this response looked to her, completely ignoring Mrs. Weasley, “ How so?” asked Harry, practically on the edge of his seat. 

(yn) frowned and set down her fork, “ I was in the boroughs of New York, y’know Queens, the Bronx, Manhattan, Staten Island, and Brooklyn. You meet some people in some bad situations, but they’re not necessarily bad people.”

“ A lot of wizards and witches involve No-Mag’s in their business, a lot of No-Mag kids too. . .” she paused, thinking about the bastards who would replicate No-Mag money and pay kids to sell shit for them or be fucking mules for them.  

“ You can find a bunch of poor people in New York who are willing to do anything for money, just so they can eat or by some coke,” she paused and looked at Harry in particular, “ Anyone who considers being an auror has to be able to stomach some seriously horrific things,” she said, “ But if you can help one more person it’s worth it,” 

She tried to lighten the mood with a soft smile and a lighthearted story, “There was this one kid, Jake Mariano, he was a First-Gen, Muggleborn, he thought he could do telekinesis or something. He was stealing all sorts of things money, bikes, stereos, gum- anything. Kid thought he was slick until he tried to lift my cigarettes off me,” 

The teens seemed to feel better after she told them about how she smacked the kid upside the head and took him back to his mom who was about to call the government on him. He was now a second year at Ilvermorny and doing fine. 

So caught up in her story she failed to notice a hung over Sirius coming in, he stayed by the door and listened to her story. He watched as the corners of her lips tilted upwards and how her brown eyes melted as she spoke of the boy who she helped navigate his way into the magical world.

Sirius could tell she genuinely cared about the kid and the people she had helped, but what he couldn’t figure out was why she would quit doing something she so obviously loved. 

When (y/n) finished her story, she noticed him. Her eyes widened slightly and a bashful smile found its way to her face, “ Morning,” she said.

“ Morning,”

-

After the kids left her, Sirius, and Tonks were left alone until Remus came by to get Tonks for duty and then they were left by themselves. It was a weird silence, it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t comfortable. Maybe tense was the word. 

It was a tense she was all to familiar with. It wasn’t aggressive or sad- this shit was sexual. 

The way his eyes would flick to her breasts before looking away quickly as if he were berating himself for doing so lit her the fuck up. But she wouldn’t let on that she noticed.

“ Nice story,” he said with a small smile, and she about combusted right there.

 (Y/N) shrugged, “ Nice kid,” she replied before taking another sip of coffee, “ What are you up to today, hm?” 

“ Jack shit,” he grumbled, his mood growing dark at once. This would usually throw someone off and have them shrinking back into themselves but (yn) just nodded.

“ Join the club,” she sniggered, “ Dumbledore is still feeling me out I guess you could say, they don’t trust me to go off on my own,” 

Sirius’s mood shifted once again, “ Yeah, couldn’t imagine why,” he said cheekily, “ Nothing odd like an ex-auror in a secret line of work agreeing to come across halfway across the world to work with a bunch of strangers,” 

The (yhc) laughed, “ You got a point there, Mr. Black,” she agreed silkily, looking at him through her dark lashes. 

Sirius raised an eyebrow in her direction. He knew she wasn’t saying mister as a sign of respect, she was flirting, and by God he was too. 

The morning was spent with talk of Ilvermorny and Hogwarts, both were careful not to mention friends and more sensitive topics. Sirius knew she understood why he didn’t mention his friends, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand why she didn’t mention hers. 

What happened to her? 

Who was she?

-

Later in the day she went out to pick up groceries for Molly and Sirius found himself sitting in the den, drink in hand smoking a cigarette. Remus came in and frowned at his choice of habit but said nothing, settling in the dark leather chair beside him.

The den like the rest of the house was decked out in green and silver, but instead of millions of portraits the walls were lined with bookshelves and a single cherry wood desk. 

“ Remus, what do you think of (yn)?” asked Sirius looking up at the werewolf.

The graying man sighed and rested his chin on his fist, “ I think she’s hiding things but nothing deatheater related-,”

“ Thank you!” shouted Sirius vigorously pointing to him with the hand that was holding his whiskey, “ What do you think it is? I mean-,”

“ -and,” interrupted Remus, “ I think she’s inappropriately interested in you.”

Sirius set down his glass and stared at Remus, “ Really?” he said, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice but failing dismally.

Remus gave him a hard look and the pureblood deflated, “ Oh c’mon Remus!” he groaned, “ I wouldn’t touch her, scout’s honor!” he said placing his hand over his heart. 

Remus let out a long sigh, “ I will say she is very attractive, funny, but far too young,” he said pointedly

Sirus rolled his eyes and said nothing else.

-

After dinner everyone went into the living area and had a bottle of butterbeer or a firewhiskey, “ Okay okay,” laughed Ginny, “ Never have I ever jumped out of a window and onto a broom, “ 

The twins, (y/n), and Sirius threw back their drinks while the room, sans Molly laughed, “ When did this happen?!” she shouted with her hands on her hips while her husband chuckled behind his paper.

“ Mmmm second year,” said George, “ Something to do with Filch I believe,”

Fred nodded, “ Yeah, we put Mrs. Norris in an enchanted bucket, some elementary prank I do believe,” 

The room erupted with laughter once more and when (y/n) caught her breath she spoke, “ My friend and I pissed off one of the pukwudgies at school, Clarence, and Clarence starts shooting at us with his dud arrows to mark us. . .” she stopped at the rooms concerned faces, “ Let me clarify real quick, basically giving us a detention slip with an arrow that doesn’t pierce your skin,” The room let out a unanimous ‘oh’ and she continued, “ We had let a flock of geese in the main gym or something and we had the brooms waiting for us at the window- but the thing was Clarence had a southern accent,” she chortled.

“ He was like ‘ C’mon back ‘ere you lil piss aints!”’ she mimicked,” Oh God!” she gasped. 

The room laughed with her and a few minutes later Mrs. Weasley announced it was time for bed. The kids cleared out and soon Tonks and Remus were leaving for duty. 

Once again it was just the two of them, the only thing separating them was a cushion Tonks had been sitting on. They stared into the fire and drank.

“ You always say friend,” began Sirius, causing her head to whip around to look at him, “ You never say their name, why?”

He hoped he wasn’t overstepping but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to know her so badly. But he didn’t know why, there were plenty of mysterious people in the order, maybe it was her charisma, or maybe it was the fact she seemed like him.

A shell of her former self. 

(Y/N) was silent for a moment, looking down at a tattoo that held music notes, “ Yeah. . . the one in the story was Stephen. . . Stephen Garcia,” she said with a tight smile, “ He was one of my bestfriends,”

Sirius felt his stomach drop, “ I’m sorry I shouldn’t-

“ No it’s okay, it felt good to talk about him,” she chuckled, “ He was one of a kind, they all were,” 

She looked around and flicked her wand at the door to lock it, “ Here, and don’t freak out I’m wearing a tank top,” she laughed when Sirius’s light eyes widened when she began lifting up her shirt. 

Her tattoos were as prominent as they had been in the morning, but now her (yst) was bathed in the warm light of the fire and Sirius’s mouth was suddenly dry as he beheld her form in front of him. 

“ The compass is for my friend Connor, his last name was West so it points that way,” she said pointing to her upper arm, “ And this one on my thigh is the chorus to Stephen’s favorite song,” she explained, “ And the arrow across my hip is for Vesta because she was a fucking badass with a bow,” she grinned slightly pulling down her joggers to show him. 

“ This one is Kumiko’s birthday with a big ole fuck you underneath because that bitch was small but she could put you in your goddamn place,” 

When she finished Sirius stood, placing his glass down, he got closer, “ They’re beautiful,” he said.

(Y/N)’s heart was hammering in her chest, “ Yeah they are,” she said meeting his eyes. The world seemed to stop for a moment before he placed his hand on her shoulder and drug his thumb across her collarbone and parted his lips slightly, “ And this one?”

She smiled. The one he was touching was her simple ‘1920′ tattoo, “ For the woman who raised me,” she murmured, allowing him to take a step closer and place another hand on her hip. 

(Y/N) was finding it hard to function and she wanted nothing more than for him to pull her to him and kiss her until she was gasping for air. She wanted him to take her over the goddamn ottoman, fuck the other people in this house she really didn’t fucking care. 

He hesitated when he was three inches from her face, “ I. . . I can’t,” he said reeling away and retreating to the door. Leaving her alone ...and horny. 

-

Taglist: @notyourfuckingbusinesss​

[diediegamchicothdie]

Still of the Night

[Pelle and Quorthon]

Baby comeback, I was wrong, I can't live without you.

3/?

Also available in AO3!!!!

The music was loud, mixed with the strong smell of tobacco and alcohol. The air was running out in the room full of idiots, making Per even less patient. The noise of guitar solos, laughing posers and beer bottles crashing, felt his body heavy, really didn’t want to do anything, but was bound by that contract. He looks behind the bar, he was not yet used to that place. Although it had been a long time since he started his work days, there was something that his body rejected from Quorthon’s shop, as if this place would cause him to rot. Still far from the social circle full of annoying conversations, foolish girls who approached in vain tried to attract the attention of the chestnut without success, tarts fame-seekers who would not get anywhere. For his part, he kept himself distant, distant in body, perhaps a bit too in mind, just landing to check on the jerks or bring more bottles or cigars for Thomas’s invented ones. 

Thomas, who played to drink a beer and then put his eyes on the blond who was only there to be paid for overtime. Part of him wished that But he had been more interested, perhaps the seventeen-year-old Per would have jumped out of his skin for the thrill of sharing such an intimate space with him, no longer. He himself knew it better than anyone, The Per he met years ago was blinded by a sickly fanaticism, an obsession passionate about him, who until that moment was his idol. To the disgrace of Yngve who used to idealize people too much, he had not fulfilled their expectations. Sure, it was very easy to write emails where the tone remained mysterious, hidden between the veil of distance and the cold of technology, preferred that to much warmer and more personal letters. Per loved the cruel version his mind had concocted, the terrible man who screamed on the records he had so much cherished, for whom the name “Bathory” was carved into his body. It was bad to think of them, perhaps, but it was impossible for him not to do so with Per. If he had been the man that the blond man desired, perhaps he would be the one huddled against his chest that night. Instead, he was now standing at the counter, with his tired celestial eyes, patiently staring at his low pamphlet, as if chewing every letter printed on the paper.

The tension was like a piece of ice, it burned slowly if you held it for a long time, but kept the room cool. Thomas liked the feeling, the insults so sincere contrasted with the idyllic atmosphere, as if the cold hands dragged him to the ground, it would be so perfect if only the two of them. Now, Per was content to ignore, could not keep up with the situation, felt that accommodating himself to Quorthon’s needs was a matter, though exclusively monetary, carried a trail of humiliation, as if he had given him reason. Perhaps he should have listened to the major and not pursued such absurd dreams.

Per never thought to set foot in “HeavySound” again, much less behind the counter, cleaning up dust and monitoring Quorthon, he was decent, had spent years fixing his brothers' messes. Later than early, Per had learned to be in charge, with his parents busy between work, their drama and eventual separation, he came to the realization that it was just him and his brothers. Strangely feminine, quickly took the form of mother and father, knew how to do everything required in a home. A load that came from dawn to dusk. With such a small body and broken hands, he soon began to get impatient, carried along by his little brothers. 

Soon at school they began to murmur, Per, with small body, belly of wire and legs of stick.  He who carried the little children to their halls, and waited for them with some book in his hands until the moment of leaving, was a fag. You can not deny nature, nor educate the fool, Per, so young and innocent was just like a woman. Do not deny the tree with twisted branches, it must be cut. The rumors fell in blows on the blond’s body, as if it were snow, his limbs numb as if he had struck a frozen lake, and all murmured “Per has his mother’s face!”.

He had no peace in those who were misnamed the sweetest years, felt the beasts lurking behind his small figure, burning eyes on his neck. Perhaps the burning eyes of Quorthon, who had always reminded him of a werewolf, hurt him so much, devoured him in the days. Although his routine was oddly comforting, with the blonde arriving at 9 AM and leaving at 7 PM, perhaps a little longer. Had nothing better to do than talk shit of Quorthon in his face, besides cleaning, attending assholes, selling shit music and making coffee, besides ordering the worst possible lunch for his boss (as I did not lose hope that the latter would have been poisoned by surströmming).  The routine slowly killed him, like dust accumulating in his lungs, he felt his asthma strike behind his bronchi, scratching the back of his throat and filling his respiratory system with mucus. Everything was suffocating, he felt his lungs weaken with each breath of air, as if they could hardly function, so the arrival of Jon was a breeze of icy wind for his heavy chest.

— Pelle! I’m so happy to finally see you.

He salutes the teenager with his face that still had childish features, cheeks a little chubby and the look of berk. Pelle could not help smiling back as she took off her blanket, feeling a strange familiarity with the boy, he could easily be another of his brothers. He was endearing, cute. 

— Anyway, I didn’t think you’d really come.

Said Pelle, his voice still as he placed his chest on the counter. 

— Of course I would! You tell me that you can see me now and then invite me to the Quorthon shop, it was pretty good to be true.

Pelle laughed, approaching the boy with complicity, putting her lips as close as his ear. Jon, also put his side by bringing his body closer to the major who seemed far away from the frontman of “mayhem”, yet could feel the darkness in his pale eyes, this excited him. 

The elder’s fine lips opened in a malicious smile that accompanied his poisonous words — Quorthon is just a poser whose daddy pays everything.

He muttered the poisonous but firm words in a brazen mockery of his boss, who was just inches from the pair of young men laughing loudly, in a complicity that neither Per nor Thomas could experience.

— I know, I still like your music.

Admitted the teenager, with his face slightly flushed, he was really ashamed to admit that in front of Pelle, who took away weight from his insecurity by shrugging his shoulders.

— If you say so, I will not argue with you, not tonight — threatened Pelle in a jester tone while he was away playing to have a more serious attitude.

— Are you upset that I still like his music even though he’s a poser?

Jon asked, with his eyes looking forward to the blonde, who shook his head as he walked away for a beer.

— For nothing Jon, I’ve already told you, do not pay too much attention to us, if it helps you to continue doing brutal — clarified the blonde by bringing the drink to the minor who took it anxious — Do you want to go meet him? 

The question was in the air as Jon quickly drank the drink, stood watching the liquid go down his throat, and then the bottle fell on the counter with a strong blow. The intense eyes on Jon were set upon him, as if he was about to kill him. That thought made him so happy, that Pelle could not help enlarging his smile. Jon’s nerves were piling up in his throat, hitting his chest hard, as if he could vomit his heart at that moment, the seconds lengthened into a silent talk, until he could speak.

— What happened to “mayhem”? , with Øystein? , I was hoping to see you, I say, you both, together, in Oslo next year.

Pelle’s smile broke, he took it from the counter and refused to walk a little, trying to regulate the words that ran in his mind, what happened with Øystein? , that was the real question. It was time to recognize that I still did not know how to deal with the situation, it was a fresh wound that hurt with the slightest breath of fresh breeze. He couldn’t think, his head hurt, What happened to Øystein? He wanted to know, too. 

— You shouldn’t ask that kind of thing on an empty stomach, sure you’ve traveled all day, let’s go inside, I still have my lunch — Yngve explained while fiddling with his fingers on the table. After a moment he decided, I walk a couple of steps. Finally, he got close enough to Quorthon to scream with all his might — I’m going to the cellar! 

The loud voice overcame the music, now Thomas could focus all his attention on the blonde without it looking weird. He stood up, leaving his guests aside to stand in front of Pelle, who had already taken the liberty of passing Jon behind the counter. Displeased, he held his gaze fixed on the blond, who seemed upset at not being able to follow his whim, grumbling slightly as he took off his latex gloves.

— What do you want?

He questioned, already irritated by the silence of his boss who was driving him crazy, pushing his fury with his silence. His gaze that revisited Per’s face and the face of the kid who hid what tick behind the back of the dead boy. 

— Who is he? You didn’t tell me you had a guest.

— It’s Jon, he’s my friend, he has a band, and he’s just looking for advice.

— What kind of advice?

Demanded to know Thomas, who did not trust in that closeness, in his eyes the way of acting of both young men was totally reprehensible, who watched him with a desire to tear off his head.

— What do you care! Those are personal things of us.

Pelle fought back while Jon, like a little child, hid behind his back, with his head slightly down. This attitude made Thomas upset, who gave his beer to Per by pushing it against his chest, with a smile he ordered: “Open it”. The left hand took the bottle, brought it to its mouth, hooked the metal cap to its lips, cutting a bit of its mouth. Per felt the blood, tasted it and then pressed, pulling the cold metal, a hollow sound rumbled in the ears of the Per. The aluminum lay between the cracked lips, suffering pressure from Yngve, before being ejected with a burst of saliva. With the accuracy of a marksman, the cap flew like a projectile to the chestnut’s forehead, who took a few steps back. Thomas’s hand stroked his forehead, the traces of saliva stuck on his fingers, so gross. He wanted to disappear for a moment, but he could not do it, much less could control his employee, who had already gone down to the cellar next to the teenager.

Pelle sighed, annoyed, really hated that bastard whom he had chosen as chief. He shook a little the feeling and all the food tray that had saved, really did not want anything.

— It’s chicken, eat, I haven’t touched it.

Offered Pelle while he settled on one of the boxes of merchandise. Jon imitated him quickly, he ate desperately and stained his face in the process, had not eaten anything since morning and that was already affecting him. He chewed large chunks of food in front of Pelle’s tender smile, who was already preparing his speech. While Jon’s stomach was heating up, Pelle’s was cooling down, not so long ago it felt like that, between the file of his memory the images became clear. What happened with Øystein? , he didn’t know it well either, that’s life. He had his heart in the mouth, he wanted to spit it out, resigned himself to all the feelings that still made him human. Pelle I saw the night come out with love, he looked at the moon in Øystein’s face, he knew that they were breaking before the fall of the stars before dawn. What happened to them? , he didn’t know, he was still trying to process the end of both.

— About Øystein… can you tell me what happened?

Question the teenager in a low voice, as if he feared to start an explosive reaction in the major, it was obvious that this affected him, even though he tried to stay strong. Pelle, he had a pale face, with the eye basin sunken. Pelle was a strong guy, only shrugged his head.

— Things just didn’t go as we planned, at first it was great, everything seemed to be going well, until it wasn’t.

— Why?

The question, so simple, carried with it a veil of doubt, a waterfall that reminded him of the tears that Pelle had shed from his journey from Norway to Sweden, shattered, with lungs like a forest fire. He could do it, he looked down at the floor, that helped him to keep his voice loud.

— Human relationships are very complex, sometimes everything goes sideways, that’s very easy to happen — he clarified by taking a can of beer that was in a six-pack they had not yet opened, he was supposed not to drink on the working day, but the words hurt his throat — our relationship gave us more suffering than kindness, the band was not going anywhere, and Øystein was making plans in which I did not want to participate.

— Have you been fighting?

Curiosity mixed with genuine concern, uneasy about the situation he had completely ignored. Pelle noticed how the teenager struggled to understand the dynamics of that broken relationship, he understood it, it is difficult to let go of people.

— No, in the end we did not, just talked and agreed — he explained with a calm voice. Carefully choosing each word to avoid misunderstandings — the last few months we were already supporting each other, fighting all the time — the words of Pelle stopped in the eyes of Jon, were lacking in brightness, was there, with the disappointment stabbing his brain, as it hurt him to do that — just, we no longer wanted to feel like this, we came to the conclusion of following separate paths.

— What now? — questioned still stunned, Jon thought that would never happen, but apparently even people who live tied to the hip can separate not return, or no? — Do you have other plans? Are you going back to music?

Pelle again denied with his head in an act of resignation — No, things are better this way, now we’re just at different times, different things, Øystein is going to open the store and a record company, now he keeps saying that it’s only going to be for Norwegian bands, but it won’t last long, opens the doors to anyone he likes.

— I understand — the teenager muttered, he felt defeated, but Pelle came over stroking his back in a comforting act — I really wanted to see them both next year in Norway, now I don’t know if I want to go. 

— Don’t say that Jon, Øystein is really cool, the most brutal guy I’ve ever met, whatever happened to us should not destroy the relationship you already have.

— You gonna be mad at me for going with him?

The question made Pelle laugh slightly who again denied — No, not at all, I know you will do it amazing, hated listening to the demos of all those idiots who thought their music was good enough to be called black metal, but you, your band was always something special, don’t ruin that opportunity.

Jon nodded by leaning his head against Pelle’s shoulder, sighing, letting go of his doubts for a moment. The loud music was muffled by the concrete walls of the basement, the white light, the black painted walls and the blonde who looked like a ghost under the dim lighting. Everything was so confused, the scene I had heard so much about no longer existed in the same way, and the man I had spoken to for over a year, death, was as warm as a mother. The blonde was aware of it, the approach so sweet, both experienced at the time, with his hand on the shoulder of the chestnut as a sign of comfort. He felt like judging, as if something was behind the door, looking behind the door, stalking his movements, as if he was doing something dirty. He knew that he was not doing it, Jon was just a child whose idol had disappointed him, but he would be fine, he was strong, more than anyone, could overcome it. What could never be changed is that Pelle had his mother’s face, but perhaps he was a little more like his father.

— Come on, let’s go.

He said getting up to leave the place with his heavy feet, really it weighed him walking. Jon followed him in the same step as he wiped his mouth.

— So what do you plan to do?

— I want to enter an art school, I thought of “Konstfack” or “Kungliga Konsthögskolan”, but, all require me to finish school, open a portfolio and stuff — I explain something annoying by the situation — it’s very complicated, and I don’t know if I managed, Besides there’s an aptitude test and an interview, I’m terrible at it.

— You can finish school at a distance, take classes from home, maybe in the middle of work, find a space and finish the lessons.

Cheer up Jon as they returned to the counter. Pelle shrugged, taking a couple of beers to pour. The suggestion made Pelle smile foolishly, who took the beer in small sips and then answered.

— You may be right, but the aptitude test and the interview… it kind of keeps me up at night.

— You’ll do it incredible, they’d be idiots who know nothing about art if they ever turned you down — the words came out of his mouth while he was bringing his beer to Pelle, who only raised an eyebrow — let’s drink, because when you present your works I will be the first to go see them, I swear it in the name of Satan!

Jon lifted his beer over his head, with a serious expression, squeezing his lips and lowering his eyebrows. Pelle nodded, laughing at the boy’s excitement. The beers collided and were then swallowed in a silly game, a competition of who finished his drink first. Pelle finally relaxed, talked to the teenager, a little more, the band, the music, the future plans of “Dissection”. Jon’s eyes were alive, and terrifying, a beast. Pelle smiled, knowing he could do what he always dreamed of, trusting Jon so much.

The clock struck 10 o'clock, it was time to leave, the blond smiled, stretched out thundering his backbones and let out a sigh. He looked at Jon saying “I’m going to get my jacket and we’re leaving” and then left the last beer in front of him. Walk to the kitchen where he had left his things that morning, started preparing for his departure, but his boss prevented him with a quiet but firm sentence.

— I thought you were staying here until the party was over.

Said Quorthon lying on the frame of the door, he was drunk, and his expression was obvious annoyance. Pelle refused without paying much attention, while he looked in the cupboard for a pack of cookies.

— No, I would do triple, maybe, quadruple shift, and the truth I want to rest — opened the package while he took the sweet to his mouth, giving a small bite, chewing ridiculously slow — Besides, I want to take Jon to his aunt’s house, is a little drunk and is younger.

— I overheard your conversation.

That revelation angered the blond, who approached threateningly, pushing Quorthon against the wall of the corridor, hitting his boss head and back in the act. His face with the expression totally irritated, out of place. Per had the face of a maniac, really was a psychotic, because he still remembered well the gifts of fresh dead animals. That meant love for Per, a crucified rat.

— ¡You’re a fucking gossip! I told you it was personal stuff! — The blonde guy screams loudly, taking the torn neck of the chestnut man’s shirt as he sighs — What the fuck do you care what he is talking to?!

Thomas’s eyes opened wide, his trembling hands took Per by the shoulders, pushing him away from him, ripping off some of the highest man’s clothes in the process. The blond banged against the wall, leaving a faint white noise on his head, but he didn’t have time for that. Walk behind the chestnut, who was yelling at his guests to leave. Drunk and aggressive, he quickly took people out, turned off the music and broke beer bottles out of frustration. Pelle was disgusted, looked at him with disgust as he approached Jon and took him by the shoulder.

— What’s the matter?

Asked the teenager confused by the scene, somewhat astonished by the vocalist of “Bathory”, so far from the perfect image of the face of Swedish extreme metal. 

— It happens that he is an idiot who does not know how to face the consequences of his actions — I assure you while starting to walk next to the chestnut — I told you, he is a fucking idiot, apart from love gossiping.

Jon, who was clearly already drunk, laughed loudly, calling the attention of the rest of Quorthon’s stupid friends who also came out, embarrassed or upset by being taken out in that way. For his part, the youngest still clung to Pelle not to go away from face to face, he still did not know how to handle so much alcohol in his blood. They walked to finally meet under the huge flame moon of June, the blond always puzzled and terrified by the passing of time, as if it stabbed him. I look at the huge moon with eyes full of nostalgia, What happened with Øystein? 

He held the boy by his side, plunged into thoughts, talking mentally to the moon. His mind was a hole that swallowed every sense of solemnity, until he felt as they stroked from the nape of his neck to the lower part of his back. The blond man quickly turned, in a little leap, before he saw him, he recognized the warm and large hands that touched him so familiarly.

— Take me home, I can’t drive like this.

He asked with his head down, as if he were a scolded dog, pathetic, impotent, and above all, terribly drunk. Pelle thought of it, he didn’t want anything to do with the jerk who kept embarrassed by his acting, but Jon was drunk, and it would be great if he vomited in his boss’s car.

— Okay, give me the keys.

Per demanded, stretching his hand towards the chestnut’s face, who quickly handed them to him. They walked quietly to the car, which they soon boarded, with Jon lying in the back seats, Thomas as co-pilot and Pelle in front. He took a sigh, pulled out a pack of snus and bit it, smashing it between his teeth hard before pulling away. The contents were spilling in his mouth as he sped through the streets of Stockholm. Their eyes fixed on the road, avoiding looking at Quorthon who had not stopped looking at him since they left, nor knew what he wanted, but it was not good. The journey was short to get to Jon’s house, parked in front of this and said goodbye to the boy with a “take care, then we will see the city,” he promised firmly with the minor, following his lively tone reply: "Let’s hit some faggots fans of Glam". The strong between both frame the end of that intense night, followed the calm post storm, Jon took all the chaos when he got out of the car (to Per’s sadness: no trace of vomit). 

After the farewell, there was silence among the passengers, with the lights off and the radio disabled. Pelle, now turned to look at Quorthon who did not understand his look, could only remain silent waiting for the minor to speak, to his misfortune, Yngve no longer had any interest. It was time to be swallowed up by the violent silence of the Swedish streets. Neon lights blinded the chestnut, the face of the blond with the red face of the traffic light, a demon. The chestnut licked his lips, with his hands clients, even with alcohol in the system, really enraptured. He thought of all that happened as he put a lock of hair behind Per’s ear, this act did not mute him, it was another of the occurrences of missing gray matter of Quorthon, who began to speak. Now he knew he needed to do it.

— So, what about Pelle?

Question that nickname, curious about it. Pelle, was as similar as different, much more tender in some way. Soft on the palate, did not scratch the throat as its original name.

— My friends call me Pelle, it’s a nickname for affection.

Explain the blonde spinning through the streets without a fixed sense, only the desire to explore the streets in the quiet night, empty streets, only the two enemies who by chance shared the road.

— It’s a good nickname…

— It’s a nickname — short the blonde very quickly trivial conversation, as he hated them — Where do you want to go? , you haven’t told me where your house is — he pointed out with quite desperate obviousness for the attitude of the highest — Tell me!

— Don’t yell at me…

Asked Thomas in a submissive tone, fabricated by the grief that still generated the scene of jealousy. There was no logical reason why Per could have such a real connection, what part of his disgusting being was worthy of so much trust? , what did the dead man have to be treated with kindness even though he didn’t deserve it? Life was really unfair, despite his success had been condemned to be Fenrir. He was isolated, afraid to open up, never had felt that anyone had the desire to hear his words, not even his music was appreciated as he wanted it. He lazily leaned his face on his right hand, holding with the little strength that alcohol had not snatched from him, and licked his lips shyly to begin talking.

— The "Heimskringla" has 16 tales, well, those that have been considered official so far — he started to explain by playing with his fingers on the dashboard of the car, felt Per’s eyes on him, a really curious look — It is better known as "Chronicle of the Nordic Kings" but I prefer to use our own language to define it, it’s like taking ownership of my roots. I fell in love with that book when I was about 12 years old, it was fascinating.

— What made you fall in love with that book?

Asked curious Per, who now, himself debated to see the chestnut or see the road. Thomas was pleased, tapping his fingers harder against the board. He moved his head from side to side, with his eyes looking at the blond, at the road, and within his memory, happy to be able to talk, finally talking about something important. 

— It’s fascinating, the first part talks exclusively about mythology, although small touches of reality, small introductions to meet the first Scandinavian kings — his eyes the blonde who tried to give him all his attention, jumping between the streets, until the darkness consumed them, moving away from the city — For me the book is divided after the death of Odin, it’s when it takes a more serious turn, well, it’s not as if the above was a joke, There had been a lot of fucked-up things going on since the “Ynglings” were crowned, but when Odin died.

Per looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief before stopping at the entrance to a forest, looked down for a while — did Odin die?

— Yes, he was murdered, it’s common knowledge, everyone knows.

— I didn’t know, he was supposed to be very powerful, how did he die?

Asked Per curious about that information. Thomas nodded slowly and stepped out of the car to sit at the front of the car, leaning against the windscreen. Per imitated the action by sitting next to him while offering a pack of snus that Thomas accepted.

— It’s a complicated thing, in my opinion it starts from the search for knowledge of "Odin", who knowing already the prophecy of the "Ragnarök" takes a reflective position before the end of days - explained while he bit the pack of snus, popping between his teeth, relaxed a little more and timidly approached by passing his fingers on the thin arm of Per - he "Ragnarök" was an inevitable event, like the death of "Odin", here comes someone very important: "Fenrir", son of "Loki", a large wolf that had been banished by the fear of the Gods, as it became larger and more and more filled with resentment when denied contact with others, but the burden of "Fenrir" is that it could not be controlled.

— Is it so bad not to be controlled? —  questioned Per, full of snus, with relaxed eyes, tired, just like his words, soft but doubtful, really understanding the chestnut’s words —  He was just being the same, instincts can’t be held back, only coupled.

Thomas firmly denied while he was settling down to detail the cold eyes of Per, so sad —      joined the chaos of "Ragnarök", finally facing the cause of his loneliness, for him already strengthened "Fenrir" was not difficult to kill "Odin", who had already been through enough battles, even with his few forces, tried to fight back, but we can’t beat fate —  he explains as his hand went up Per’s arm to his shoulder, doubting if he would touch his face —  died like a warrior, the death of "Odin" was like the death of "Ragnarök" itself, the ultimate sacrifice to make way for the new world composed of fumes and gods who managed to survive.

At the end of the explanation, Per nodded slowly as he closed his eyes, he really needed to rest. He stuck his face against the windscreen, exhausted, it was too much for today.

-I’m sorry to have overheard your conversation, it was weird seeing you in confidence with such a young boy…

He admitted shyly, hated to say that he had been wrong, but the anger of the blond was much more weighty. Shy because, he who was the biggest among the three had not endured curiosity, jealousy, everything, was weak before everything. 

— No, I’m not like you — explained the minor with a laugh, but without raising his head and much less open his eyes — it is something rare, very significant for both.

-You were like a father explaining a divorce.

He pointed out Thomas with suspicion, did not want to hear the words, but had to, because otherwise I would end up killing him. He would end up dead because of the intrigue.

— It’s a bit like that, now I understand a bit my father — he explained to finally sit down, taking his words into the woods, it was obvious that he didn’t even want to keep them in his mind — when my parents got divorced, it was really fucked up, obviously they no longer loved each other, Maybe they never did.

— Where are we? 

Asked the chestnut to take away weight from Yngve’s words, he really cared few or nothing about his current location.

— In an alternative entrance to "Skogskyrkogården", I found it when I just came back, the bastards who guard the main entrance were denying me passage for months — he said excited pointing out a specific part of the forest, Which Thomas can’t see — Do you know why I brought you?

— No really — he assures you without giving much attention to his words, concentrating on the blond’s euphoric face, finally putting his hand on his face, exploring his skin as cold as porcelain — you are a very weird guy, surely want to steal a corpse.

— No… — he murmured to finally put his eyes on Quorthon, with a soft expression, innocent, and drugged by the snus effect — it’s because I made a tomb for you, and plan to bury your body there tonight.

The statement startled the major, he found no trace of fun in those words, obviously the minor did not joke, knew him well enough to know that. He was capable of doing that, would not shake his hand to execute it. The seconds became eternal, neither moved, and Thomas’s mind went to sleep, the fight-or-flight response turned into a total incapacity generated by the impact of not knowing what to do now. 

Per came closer, leaving his lips a few inches away. He breathed against his mouth, his body so relaxed. He had a long, thin body, if each scar was a thorn, it was a dangerous figure. Per, venous, lethal, a Venus Fly Trap, He approached him, made him tremble for his life, fear for his hands, desire his chest, his arms around his body. Pelle seemed ever closer, imposing, and he swears he would have devoured him before he started laughing, pushing him slightly.

 —That I’m kidding! I didn’t make you a grave!

Loud cry, waking up the birds, which took a night flight over their heads. The chestnut raised his gaze, noticing the animals on top of them. It was too much, with Per everything was too much, he did not get used to it, never knew who was hunting whom. Which dog knows how, the other dog.

— What happened when your parents got divorced?

Per hesitated for a few seconds to speak, but he was tired of drowning, now there was no one, only that idiot who insisted on knowing his secrets. What else did he have? , he knew that when he resigned, Quorthon would deny his words. They never met.

— My father spoke to me first, it really wasn’t such a big revelation, it was the best for everyone — he said coughing a little to finally spit even side of the car — it’s much better to have two separated, happy parents than having them together, miserable.

— I understand…

— Yes, then asked me to explain it to my brothers, they have always been more attached to me, and I was neutral in the situation. It was really hard to explain that our parents would no longer be together, they were much younger and cried. They cried so much for days that I thought of drying their tears to save the salt — he swallowed again, breathed, looked.  Looking at everything and nothing, wanting to be a bush or bird, anything but human — it’s easy to forget the feeling for a moment, when you’re distracted, talking, watching a movie, going to the park, but, when you’re alone your mind tends to betray you, you end up thinking, remembering every moment — Pelle seemed depressed, it was too late, the tranquility had made him a sad waste of man — I remember so much those days, my poor children were burned their faces from so much crying.

Thomas actually passed his arm over the shoulders of the blond, drawing his frail body into a hug that broke the cold of Per’s memories. As if his arms really possessed that ability. No heat could pull Pelle’s sadness.

 — I know Jon won’t cry, he’s a brat, he really is, immature and naive, but he’s strong…

 — You’re saying that you and Øystein are officially divorced? 

He questioned with his heart beating fast, knowing that it would not change their relationship or their feelings. He hated Per, was nasty, dirty, unsavory, his smell was foul, his mark was death, stripped of all grace or charm. What he hated most was his lack of strength to take what he wanted, like a fucking coward. In his eyes he was just a madman who was damaged, destroyed his body calling it art. Although, at that moment, under her arm, she will look like “Freya”, sweet “huldra” with a goat’s tail. He really hopes for his lips, trembling and unprotected, beautiful and fragile creature who only wanted to be worshiped. He passed his hand back over his cheek, down the chin, holding it for a while carefully, did not want to break it.

 — Yes, we have, we no longer have any kind of relationship, since that day, everything is silence.

He cleared his eyes, his face, the voice was broken in small whispers, unable to keep going. His throat was as tight as his lungs. Thomas’s restlessness was not contained, no more, he raised his face and left a soft kiss on the lips of the minor. Knew alcohol and snus, a sudden, premeditated crash, both already knew they were breaking. Per’s heart was aching, holding it steady, like a wooden puppet, his mind rejecting him, his organs too, his soul glued to that of Øystein, with his primary senses stunned. He continued, a little more between the hugs of his idol that I once loved, because although he hated it, let go, well they knew it, Per did not pursue any logic. When they separated, the question was not let wait, it was as necessary as breathing.

— Pelle, you told your little friend that everything was fine, so why do you want to cry? — He muttered with his lips still close, a claim among irritated flesh  —Had you not ended well? That both decided to take different paths?

He questioned Thomas with the minor still in his arms, wishing to crush each of his bones with his body. If I could teach him, correct him to be content to merge with him. That he did not deny with his head, that he surrendered to his will and whims as if he were a good boy.

 — No, Thomas, I have not decided, Øystein asked me to leave  — he confessed with a broken voice — Øystein told me one morning, it would be better if I returned to Sweden, that’s why I’m here again.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Twenty

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Reader Misunderstands Something and Doesn’t Give Matthew a Chance to Explain, The Bond Messes With Reader’s Emotions, More Therapist Matthew, Matthew Get’s Stressed Out Because His People Are Idiots in Love (Who Also Won’t Have A Proper Conversation About How They Feel).

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later). 

Word Count: ~2.2k

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You’d have thought that the hurt, rejection, and pain from the ruined dream would have haunted you into your waking hours upon waking up. But no, you felt numb inside and had very little to say to Morpheus as he prepared to retrieve his ruby. You hadn’t even the energy to tease or taunt him, nor did you feel like being spiteful for his actions. Morpheus was simply being Morpheus. Cold. Distant. Uncaring. The sooner you learned that the better off you would be. Starving for you be damned, you couldn’t let him play with your emotions like that! So when dawn broke and it was time to rise from the bed you were cocooned in, you didn’t. 

Matthew pulled the curtains back to reveal the grey foggy skies of London as he had previous mornings, but still, you remained in place. Several minutes went by without you moving from your spot like you normally would. That’s when he fluttered over to stand on the bedsheets in front of your face. 

“Ma’am?” His voice softly asked, Matthew’s head cocking to the side as he eyed you. You lifted your tired, red-ringed eyes to him. “Are you feeling okay? Usually, you’re up by now…”

“I’m—“ Not fine, you knew that much. You sighed and leaned further into the pillow. “I don’t feel like getting out of bed right now, Matthew.” 

“What did he do this time?” Matthew questioned, hitting the nail on the head. You didn’t even have the energy to respond with ‘what doesn’t he do?’. So you stayed quiet, your hand worming its way from the cocoon of blankets to grasp the ruby that still hung from your neck. Now that you had settled things with Lucifer, there was no point in wearing it. Not when Morpheus made it clear how he felt about you. You tugged on it. Ignoring the pain of the metal pressing into your skin, you pulled until the clasp broke and proceeded to chuck it away from you. It fell to the floor and skittered away. Matthew jumped in place, his head swiveling after the ruby. Matthew trotted closer and picked at the sheet partially covering your face, tugging it away. “Ma’am…”

“I really just don’t want to get up, Matthew. Please, leave.” His head moved side to side. 

“Yeah, I’m not doing that, whatever happened upset you. I know Lord Morpheus has been a little difficult lately—“

“Difficult?” You repeated, your eyes boring into Matthew’s small black ones. “He can’t make up his damn mind about me… and here I thought human men were difficult creatures to understand! I am not a toy to be played with! I have feelings that can be hurt and he most certainly done so!!”

“I can’t excuse his behavior,” Matthew told you, bending his legs and settling down on the mattress in front of you. It was an odd sight and you almost felt like smiling at the raven now sitting on the bed. You couldn’t bring yourself to. “He means well but we both know that he isn’t the best with words or consideration… or woman in general.”

“That would be an understatement.” You whispered, your nose twitching from the burn of unshed tears. You hated that one streaked down your cheek in front of the raven. Matthew ruffled his wings against his back, clearly uncomfortable with how upset you were. How could his boss have messed things up that quickly!? Hadn’t you two just started getting along? “I thought we were making ground with each other, you know, learning to deal with the bond and each other… but he ended up acting like I was poison in his mouth. Like the very thought of us actually getting along was repulsive.”

“No, no, Y/N, he doesn’t find you repulsive.” Matthew protested. You shook your head against the pillow and closed your eyes. 

“Look, Matthew, you said he’s got a consort, right? You said that in hell. I don’t care if he’s got a consort or even a queen in his realm waiting for him. We’re stuck together until the end of time, we— we need to get along with each other. We can’t do that if he keeps jerking my heart around like it’s on a leash. I deserve better than that, even if I am second to his consort.” 

“What!?” Matthew said in alarm. Holy shit he really had fucked things up in one night! “No! No, no, no, no, no. That’s not— Y/N, he doesn’t hav—“ 

You reached forward and dropped your fingers over his beak, indicating that you wanted him to remain silent. 

“This bond is tearing me apart at the seams, Matthew. I just need to learn how to get over the emotions I can’t control, so let’s drop this conversation. I beg you.” Matthew visibly deflated where he sat snuggled against the rumpled bedsheets. You were already giving up? Even after you had charged your way into hell and sassed the legit devil, just for Morpheus? A few tense seconds went by. 

“If that’s what you want, ma’am… but Lord Morpheus, he needs to explain some things to you about your position within The Dreaming.” You snorted softly. 

“If he ever finds the heart too.” You whispered, wondering if the Endless even had one. 

You and Gregory couldn’t keep the looks of mirth and mischief off your faces as he climbed into the sky, your teenage body perched atop his back. Cain and Abel had long since tried discouraging your fun and antics, but now that you were grown, your proclivity for adventure had only gotten more intense. Wings flapping to gain altitude, Gregory soared over a field of multi-colored flowers and you peered down at them. The Dreaming always looked the best from the skies. 

Your hair flowed behind you from the strong wind and you were thankful to have it pulled back because the last time you flew with the gargoyle and your hair wasn’t tied up? You ended up with a mouthful of strands. Lesson well learned and you hadn’t made that mistake again. Gregory soared to a height where he could glide and looking over his other side, you caught sight of the dark ocean Cain and Abel had given you plenty of warnings about. It was a place of dreams and past, waters that were governed much like the land, by the King of The Dreaming. The sea held dark secrets which most people wanted to stay buried and you hadn’t once dared to go near it. You were young, yes, but not stupid.

Your eyes lifted to the carpet of green on the other side, nature and life bloomed vigorously in the Fiddler’s Green. You were always envious of the variety. The House of Mysteries and the House of Secrets had lovely gardens, taken well care of by Cain and Abel, but nothing they did compared to the extravagance of the Fiddler’s Green. Gregory angled himself down to a clearing full of flowers in full bloom, coasting down in a spiral that gave you plenty of time to look for the best spot for a picnic. Hopping off of Gregory’s back as he neared the ground, you trotted forwards to find the best place to set up, kicking your shoes off to test out the soft grass underfoot. 

You stamped around, using your toes to find the softest grass and when you did, you conjured up a gingham blanket and laid it out. You kneeled down and clapped your hands together, thinking of all the best foods for a nice picnic. A tingling feeling ran through your body and upon opening your eyes, you saw a full spread with Gregory sitting on his hind, drooling over the Cornish pasties sitting on a platter right in front of him. You chuckled and gave the gargoyle a look. 

“I don’t think Cain and Abel would like it if I let you overstuff yourself on the pasties, Gregory, you know what happened last time you did so.” You chided him, watching as his ears drooped in disappointment. Your face softened. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have one or two…” He perked right up, tail wagging. Stretching forwards, you grabbed one of the pasties and flung it in the air right in front of Gregory’s snout. He snapped it up in happiness. While you started nibbling on a biscuit, someone called overhead. 

“Yoohoo!” At hearing the call, you looked up to see Fashion Thing, or as you had called her since childhood, Fashie. Fashie liked to ride around on her broom, a drink in hand, singing off-key to song. She dropped from the sky and landed near you, lurching a bit and telling you that she had-had perhaps one too many drinks before she even decided to hop on her broom. 

“Have you been drinking and flying again, Fashie?” You asked, leaning back on your shins to eye the witch-like creature. Her swaying told you that she was indeed drunk already. You sighed. “I told you not to do that! What if you crash!?”

She waved off your concerns. 

“You know I fly better drunk!” Fashie then took another drink from her cup, crimson liquid dribbled down her chin. You eyed it, long having since learned that you probably didn’t want to know what was in her cup. Fashie stumbled over, sloppily patting Gregory on the shoulder as he happily beamed at her. Then she dropped down adjacent to you. “Ooh! I do love a good Eccles cake!” She started munching on one, crumbs sticking to the places her drink had slipped down her chin. Fashie beamed at you. “You do know how to conjure the best food in the realm!” 

You were the only one who could conjure food in the realm, so her words didn’t count for much. But it was nice that you could provide something for your friends when you depended on them so much here. They had looked after you ever since you stumbled into this place and you ought to return the favor when you could. Reaching for the thermos of tea, you poured yourself a cup of tea and dipped your half-eaten biscuit into the liquid. Fashie started rambling on about her latest adventures, most of which involved drinking and whatever she did as The Mad Yuppie Witch. She didn’t tell you a lot about what she did and you had a feeling that’s because it wasn’t exactly child appropriate. Not that you were a child, but most of the residents in The Dreaming had known you since you were very young and still treated you as such. 

“So my darling sweet, how did you get out here? Surely the brothers wouldn’t allow you to fly out here. Much too dangerous.” She had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. You looked at her over your cup of tea and smiled. Fashie started to cackle. “Oh, you naughty thing! You flew out here by yourself!? My, my, you and Gregory are such partners in crime aren’t you.” 

Gregory let out a happy trill at being mentioned and gave the Cornish pasties another mournful look. You grabbed them and made them disappear, not wanting to torture the poor gargoyle when all they would do was upset his stomach. He let out a huff at you, clearly displeased by your motherly actions. 

“I’ll not have you sick from eating too many pasties!” You chided him, Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat, between a whimper and a growl. The gargoyle even had the gall to start pouting at you! Rolling your eyes, you turned to address Fashie once more. “Where have you traveled lately?” 

“I’ve been exploring The Land, there are plenty of people to meet,” Fashie answered, waving her polished nails over her cup. The red liquid inside rose to the brim once more. She drained the cup and refilled it. “I’ve also been crossing realms, meetings up with a few clients. I do have to make my living now don’t I?” 

“I don’t think I want to know what you do for a living, Fashie.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders and reached for another Eccles cake. You shook your head and looked at the sky overhead. The bright, sunny day was slowly being overcome with chaotic dark clouds, blotting out the sun and everything you loved about Fiddler’s Green. Lowering your tea cup, you blinked as a speck of rain fell on your cheek. You lifted your hand and brushed the wet skin, looking at your fingers. It never rained in Fiddler’s Green. It never needed to. The plants flourished on their own, never needing to be fed or nourished. You lifted your eyes to look at Fashie as more droplets fell from above, soaking the food you had conjured and diluting your cup of tea. 

In seconds it was pouring, drenching everything and ruining the idyllic picnic and beautiful day. You sat in shock, not knowing what to do, or why this was happening. Fashie reached over and took your hand. 

“Y/N, I believe you should return to the House of Secrets. Take shelter there.” Rain slipped down your worried face as you nodded at her and rose to your feet. You and Gregory were quick to get into the air. 

Date Published: 10/21/22

Last Edit: 8/17/23

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[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

I'm a bit tired and high on absolutly nothing but air, and i come up with this weird headcanon :

Kiyondo (and a tiny bit Celestia) forced Kiyotaka to watch Twilight. For absolut no goddamn reason.

Here is his differents reaction to the movies iconic moments (that i chose. Obviously)

First movie ; The "You better hold on thight spider monkey" Line :

Taka : Why does he say that ??

Kiyo : Dunno, dude's weird.

Taka : Let me look up something quickly.

Kiyo : *pause the movie while Taka is writting violently on his phone*

Taka : *show something on his phone to Kiyondo*

The picture on his phone :

...

*silence*

Kiyo : It does look like her-

The "Sparkly vampire"

Taka : Why ?

Kiyondo : *shurg*

Second movie ;

The "I am depressed for 8 months because my hot vampire boyfriend left me"

Taka : ... Somehow this feel familiar ?

Kiyo : How ?!

Taka : I-I don't know ! It feel like something i have done in another life or something...

Kiyo : Okay !! Coffee break !! Now.

(I don't remmember what happened in the other movie so fast foward to Breaking dawn part 1)

The "Oh god, oh god, he broke the freaking bed frame 😳" scene

Taka and Kiyo : ....

Taka : ...Is it weird if i want that ?

Kiyo : If it's weird i don't want to be normal...

Taka : God...

Kiyo : ...You think Mondo can do that ?

Taka : Brother !... I-I don't know...

Kiyo : Well you know what to do next.

"What the hell happened to the house- THEY HAD SEX ??? THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED ???"

Taka : I need that man but only for that part.

Kiyo : This movie is awekening something in ya and i am all for that bro.

Taka : I mean, Jacob is more handsome but if Edward do that to me...

Kiyo : Bro ! Stop ! But yeah, Team Jacob ?

Taka : Yes. Team Jacob.

Kiyo : Anyway back to the fact that ya are a slut-

(If you want more of Taka reaction to certain movie just come in my ask box bro, i'm so bored and i'm okay with watching weird movie lmao)

LMAOOOO, OMGGG, TAKA ME FR!!! Get you a guy who loves you AND WILL BREAK THE DAMN BED WHILE Y'ALL HAVE SEX! (I wonder who he gets that from...*looks over at Takaaki*)

Also, yes, Team Jacob, he was a little annoying in later movies, but like...love him <33. I wonder how he'd react to Edward telling Bella he watches her sleep. From the first movie fndne. It's not iconic, but broski is so weird for that, like HELLO???

Also, go to bed soon! Sleep is very important! (<- hypocrite)

[mercurialanthology]

I don't usually post out of context random drafts but I was going through some of my WIPs and decided this one was decent enough to share. So here's a little blurb of me and my partner's Stardew Valley OCs for fun! This hasn't really been edited much so don't mind if it's clunky.

Shane manages the best he can to leave quietly once Ju-Ri is finally off to sleep. Having to hop out the window isn't the most ego-boosting thing for a guy to do. Especially in his current shape, it wasn't too easy either. The two of them were basically together at this point, they fucked more days out of the week than not. But besides that, they hung out…normally as well. He was surprised Ju-Ri was still keeping their relationship hidden, but he didn’t dare pry into the matter. Luckily, Shane didn't always have to make an escape plan late into the night, but when he did, it was dreadful.

Shane figures Hei-Ran, Ju-Ri's seemingly overbearing older sister, has to be asleep at this point. It's probably well close to 4 AM. Surely if he walks quietly enough and moves the door slowly, she wouldn't wake up. Shane makes his way to the front door of the house, mumbling a profanity at the fact that it's the only entrance and exit other than the many windows. He twists the knob very slowly, careful not to let it click when it opens and turns. Once he's sure he can, Shane opens the door smoothly, the hinges blessing him with silence. He closes the door the same way he opened it, and then quickly starts to shove his shoes back on. He can't see much in the very early break of dawn, but it's just enough for him to amble home safely.

"Hello"

"Jesus fuck!" He nearly shouts, instead it's a harsh whisper, the sudden voice a couple feet from him causes Shane to drop his sneaker loudly on the porch.

Hei-Ran sits politely in a porch chair, staring at the guilty man in front of her, "Long night?" She jests, evident that she’s aware of their situation. The palm of Shane's hand drags along his features before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Something like that,” he scoffs.

"May I ask why you're leaving my house at,” She glances around her as if to estimate the time from the sunrise, “What is it now, four in the morning?"

"Figured you'd be sleepin', got tired of using the damn window," Shane confessed, obviously annoyed that he managed to get caught despite his cautiousness.

Hei-Ran quirks her eyebrow, "So that's where you typically flee from," she takes a sip of her tea. He curses himself mentally for slipping up. Even though her countenance is quite calm, Shane feels intimidated by her aura.

Shane throws his hands out to his side as if to shrug, "So…" Ju-Ri was going to kill him for getting caught for sure.

“Well, if you’d like to stay for breakfast you can. I’ll be starting it soon,” Hei-Ran offered. Contrary to what Shane expected, she didn’t seem mad. Her offer was genuine, her mood tranquil. Her discontent would likely be directed at Ju-Ri later for her secrets and lying. He cringed slightly at the idea of Ju-Ri’s fiery rage coming towards him in return later.

“I better get going,” Shane shuffled a foot on the porch, looking out onto their farm. Marnie’s wasn’t far from here, and he needed to rest for a few more hours before work, “Thanks though,” the gratitude rolled off his tongue awkwardly, and he shambled off the porch steps with haste, disappearing into the dreariness of the dawn’s shadow. Hei-Ran finished her hot tea before standing to head inside and start breakfast.

~

A few hours later, Ju-Ri got up at her usual time.

“You’re up early,” She yawned to Hei-Ran as she grabbed some coffee, “Must be getting old,” She giggled before hopping in a seat at the table. Hei-Ran gave little reaction to her statement, she was used to her little sister quipping at her.

Ju-Ri’s behavior was typical, it always was even when she was hiding something. It was something she got used to doing over the years. Her history of displeasing her parents only made her better at being sneaky. Hei-Ran finished up with her cooking, and brought the food over to the table where Ju-Ri watched the TV as she sipped her coffee. Steam was still curling over the rim of the cup. In a show of polite manners, Hei-Ran served Ju-Ri food onto her plate.

"Thanks," Ju-Ri's gaze was still focused on the screen in front of her, a news anchor's voice announcing the weather forecast.

"So," Hei-Ran started, gracefully putting food onto her own plate, "I saw Shane this mor-"

"Idiot!" Ju-Ri shouted, slamming her fist into the table, plates rattling against the surface. Hei-Ran jumped back at the severity of her tone.

"Ju-Ri," Hei-Ran said in a stern tone, like a mother scolding her child.

"Look, if you're going to get onto me for it I don't want to hear it," Ju-Ri said begrudgingly, throwing her hand out to the side like she had already given up.

"It's not like I haven't known," Hei-Ran treads carefully, shrugging her shoulders, "I just don't understand why you kept it a secret from me. I'm not going to be upset with you."

"You were when it was Sebastian," Ju-Ri's arms were crossed, avoiding eye contact with her sister, who was now visibly tense.

"That was different," Hei-Ran's lips are pursed, tension evident in her shoulders.

"Whatever," Ju-Ri started shoveling food into her mouth in a fussy manner, "As long as you don't bother me about it."

Hei-Ran gives a disappointed sigh, “You don’t have to hide it from me. I like Shane,” she looks into her sister's eyes, whose gaze is focused back onto Hei-Ran, “He’s welcome here whenever. I mean that.”

Ju-Ri’s face becomes tinged with pink as she turns her head away, taking another gulp of her drink. She gets up from the table, gathering her dishes. Without saying another word to Hei-Ran, she heads out the door to take care of the animals. Hei-Ran knows Ju-Ri isn’t typically as closed off about this sort of thing. That’s how she knows this is different. Ju-Ri wouldn't necessarily shy away from telling her sister she was fooling around with someone. But this wasn’t that simple, and Hei-Ran knew that. Luckily, she was patient enough to wait for Ju-Ri to realize why she felt the way she did.