#SHES NOT EVEN COLD YOU HEARTLESS BASTARDS

[nic-coughlan]

halloween barely in her grave and there's christmas adverts........

[ragingbookdragon]

Price finds her in the equipment room doing a rather meticulous job of cleaning their weapons, but he also notices that the only set she currently has out, is none other than the side-arm and knives owned by their resident Lieutenant.

“Quite rare to see you here on a Friday night,” he says, taking a seat across from her, grabbing an oiled rag to start cleaning with. “Shouldn’t you be going out with Gaz and Soap for drinks?”

She pauses, looks up and then lowers her gaze back to the firing pin she’s cleaning. “Didn’t feel like going out tonight, Captain.”

“Didn’t feel like it or didn’t feel like seeing ‘you know who?’”

“You know?” She asks and he shrugs.

“It’s my job to know everything that happens within the one-four-one.”

“I thought that was Miss Kate’s job?”

Price smiles. “We share responsibility.” He methodically rubs the rag along the parts of the side-arm, his expression and voice becoming rather calm but she feels the air turn a little stern, if almost a fatherly stern. “You’ve been avoiding him.”

She makes a noise in her throat. “I can’t exactly talk to him. Look what happened last time.”

“He feels bad.”

“I’m sure he does,” she retorts, looking at him. “He really hurt my feelings. What am I supposed to do, tell him it’s okay? That we can move on like he didn’t tell me I’m clingy?” She stops, looks down at her hands. “I sound like a fucking child.”

Price hums. “You actually sound like a person who’s had their feelings hurt and you’re not sure how to proceed.” He dips the rag in a big more oil. “I know it doesn’t equate what he’s said to you, but allow me to fill in some blanks you might have on Simon.”

She cocks a brow. “Okay?”

“Simon was the oldest child of two. Abusive dad, terrified mom. Younger brother used to terrorize him too.” He goes back to cleaning the gun parts. “Nine-eleven had Simon enlisting, came back after a lull, kicked his dad out, got his brother sober and even found himself the proud uncle of a nephew named Joseph.”

“Where are they now?” She asks. “Simon’s from Birmingham, right?”

“He is,” he answers, but his face and voice are void of any hope. “But they’re not anymore.”

She blinks, feels the shift in temperature. “They…moved?” She hopes; he meets her gaze, and she knows instantly. “Oh…I…how did it…”

“I don’t want to divulge Simon’s past without his permission, because it’s also his own choice to tell you what happened, but I can tell you that Simon had a personal vendetta against the man and others who hurt his family. And he took care of it.” Price inhales and exhales. “In doing so…Simon sacrificed himself. He made himself—“

“A Ghost,” she finishes, and he nods.

“Simon, when it comes down to what he truly is beneath his cold stoicism, my dear, is simply a very tired and even more broken-hearted man who believes that if he keeps everything and everyone at a distance, then nothing can hurt him.” Price sets the weapon and rag down. “He likes to think he’s incapable of feeling but don’t let his demeanor or words fool you, Simon feels more deeply for the people he loves more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Something aches in her chest, rising up to close around her throat as she asks, “A man like him…he can still love?”

He smiles half-heartedly. “I’ve seen the man run back through a burning building to pull Gaz out. I’ve seen him run through gunfire, take a bullet to the thigh and keep going to carry Soap.” He nudges her under the table. “I’ve even seen him pull your ass out of even stickier situations. If we viewed Simon how he wanted us to view him, it’d be easy to call him a heartless bastard. But he isn’t as heartless as he wishes he was.”

“That just shows he’s doing his job as our superior officer,” she counters weakly. “He’s doing it because it’s his duty to get his subordinates out.”

“Does it ever just feel like that?”

“…no.”

Price gazes on her like a father to his daughter with her first heartbreak. “What do you feel right now, puffin?”

She purses her lips, looks down at the various weapons on the table before she admits, “I’m still hurt. His words keep replaying in my mind. I’m clingy and I’m always around.” She fiddles with the fraying hem of the rag. “That I’m a bother.”

“Would it make a difference if I told you that I don’t think such things?”

She shrugs.

Price blinks, reaches up and rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You can be very excitable. Sometimes, I think you let it get the better of you and you often forget that others don’t always have the same personality as you.”

“Excitable is the polite way of saying annoying.”

“If I wanted to say you were annoying, I would’ve. You genuinely are a good and wholesome person, my dear. But you have to remember that everyone has a different level of extroversion. Sometimes, we have to tone it down a bit.” He meets her gaze and she knows his is full of honesty. “Simon doesn’t actually hate you. And he probably feels a tad bit of annoyance, but then again, he always does regardless of who it is, because Simon hates anything that makes noise. But I also know that he feels bad for what he did and said to you—and he wants to make it right.”

She takes in his words. “Do I need to engage him first? Extend some olive branch for peace?”

Price rises from the table and smiles, walks around and pats her shoulder. “Nah, let him come to you.”

“You really think he will?”

“I do. He knows what he’s gotta do and he’ll do it because he knows it’s the right thing to do. But he’ll be skittish. He’s like a newborn deer.” He winks. “Let him mull over how he wants to do it. As for you,” he points at her. “You’ve gotta move on from this. Learn from it. And stop ignoring him and avoiding him like you’re a ten year old. Be a grown-up. Act professional and be polite. I will not let this effect the team any longer than it is. Am I understood?”

She swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, sir, Captain Price. I promise.”

Price smiles and pats her again. “Go on. Soap and Gaz headed to Purecraft.”

“But the Lieutenant—”

“Is in the training room working out,” Price waves her off. “Go. Have some fun. Get some drinks, talk to Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

As she gets up, she pauses and looks at him. “Captain?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Price’s eyes crinkle around the edges. “You’re welcome, Puffin.”

[that---one---kid]

The cold snow

Coriolanus x Reader

AN: Sorry it kinda progressed really fast and I should’ve wrote him getting gradually more obsessive, but I’ll write another like that. Do yall think reader should relate more to teens nowadays though? Should I put her hitting a vuse in the next fic?

Smut, non-con, dub-con, arranged marriage, dark!Coriolanus, baby trapping, mentions of murder, threatening, reference to domestic violence, drugging, loss of virginity

Not once did you feel love for a man. Not once did you plan on getting married. And not once did you ever consider marrying a man from the capital, they were all the epitome of stuck-up, heartless and cruel bastards dressed up to hide it with a thick veil of elegance, but, alas, when did things you wanted ever go your way. You hide a scowl as the man you had heard far too much stood in front of you next to your father. “..and I'm sure she’s looking forward to the dress!” Your father laughed. “I’m quite sure my cousin is just as excited to help with the design.” The snow-haired boy- no, monster, said, turning to face you, his cold blue eyes look unnerving in the dim light of your dining room. You wondered if he had that same look in his eyes as he came up with ways to monetize innocent deaths. You give a forced smile, directed towards your soon-to-be husband. “I can’t wait to see what she comes up with!” Your voice sounds more strained than intended. Your father's hand lands heavy on your shoulder and he gives you a squeeze before speaking. “Coriolanus, it’s been an absolute pleasure as always, but I hate to keep you too late. University I’m sure is tiring enough and you’ll have Y/N to talk your ear off soon enough.” You shift your shoulder and shake his hand off. Your father gives you a look and Coriolanus smiles before taking your hand and raising it to his lips, bowing slightly he kisses your hand softly, the feeling of his lips on your skin makes a chill run up your spine. “Right again Mr. L/N, but I do look forward to having someone else to talk to aside from Gran’mam and Tigris and Y/N is a wonderful conversationalist.” Your father makes his way to the front door alongside Coriolanus while you snake away as they’re too preoccupied with a conversation of politics and wedding arrangements. You quietly make your way upstairs, narrowly missing a maid in your hurry to slip out of your dress and into a bath, washing the filth you felt from that monster touching you off of your skin. You weren’t naive to Coriolanus Snow. Despite a year his junior plenty of people had talked of the tenth games, of Coriolanus’s ideas, and even reminiscing on it made your blood boil even more so the fact that your father would not only condone his actions but praise them. He talked nonstop of Coriolanus’s genius and innovative brain, paired with an influential name is precisely why he was so eager to offer you up as a bride for this up-and-coming president. A soft knock on your bedroom door alerts you. “I’m in the bath!” You yell. Hearing a soft creek, footsteps slowly follow. “Hello?” You yell, a brunette female avox holding a silk robe enters your bathroom. You shift to cover yourself, despite having servants since childhood you never did get used to their lack of speech and dead stare. If your tongue got cut out you wouldn’t have much light in your eyes either, you suppose. “Thanks, just leave it on the counter.” The silent woman robotically moves towards the counter and places it down before leaving, swift footsteps and a quiet door closing signaling it was time for you to get you. Quickly standing and pulling the drain, the cool air on your skin gives you goosebumps. Slipping on the robe, there's another knock on your bedroom door. “Yeah, just one minute…” You pause, trying to recall the avox’s name, but drawing a blank.

Had even you dehumanized these indentured servants so much that you never learned their names? “Y/N?” Your head perks up from the thought. “Uh, you can come in, Mother, I just got out of the bath.” The door closes and you make yourself decent before walking out into your bedroom. Your mother sits at the edge of your bed, her thin frame barely sinking into the plush sheets. Your mother, although barely giving out any more than the bare minimum of maternal comfort, had always been a confidant for you. Rarely speaking unless spoken to, dressed to your father's liking, and eating the rations for a mouse on your father's request, you had always had a soft spot for her. You knew from a young age you wanted nothing to do with men, and never wanted to be trapped in a marriage like your mother was, loveless and cold it was no wonder you were an only child. She motions for you to sit next to her. “Grab your brush and let's talk.” Grabbing your brush off the vanity beside you, you walk over and stiffly sit next to your mother, handing her your brush. She grabs a lock of your hair and begins working her way through the tangles. This goes on for a few minutes before she breaks the silence. “I know you’re not happy about the marriage.” You roll your eyes and let out a huff. “Forgive me for not wanting to marry the malicious Mr. Snow, I know I’m sooo lucky to get a shot with someone who can make such a spectacle of child murder.” The sarcasm that made you bite your tongue around your father was let loose around your mother  She brushes out a knot with more force than she should, making you let out a wince. Sighing she continues on to another section of hair. “No need to be smart.” She puts down the brush and turns you towards her. Her pale, perfectly curated mask of makeup cracks up close. Her tired eyes and creases from many nights of poor sleep cannot be hidden, no matter how much concealer and powders are applied. “I was much more naive than you are when I married your father. I had the stories and the glory days of the capitol, but I was wrong. I know we haven’t set the best example of marriage for you, but please take this away if nothing else.” Your mother looks at you with a stern and pleading gaze. “You need to submit yourself to this fate.” Her voice is desperate and you can only give her a deadpan stare, “I’m not like you, mother, I have no interest in-��� A stinging pain floods your senses, your cheek beginning to get hot accompanied by what you're sure is a brilliant red handprint. Your mother composes herself, fumbling with her hands in her lap, a blank stare adorns her tired face. “Unless you want to feel that and much worse from a hand much heavier than mine, I suggest you heed my advice.” Quickly and quietly, your mother stands up and walks to the door while you sit still in a somewhat shocked state from the normally docile woman's slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don't want you to go through what I did.” And with that she leaves, leaving you to recover and slip into a nightgown before lying in bed, a futile attempt to make sleep come quicker as your head swims through questions, realizations and your inevitable fate of entrapment.

A week comes and goes, you fill your time with work from the academy, struggling to get through dinners and talks with your father about marriage and the upcoming wedding. Your mother, to her credit, uncharacteristically changes the subject from time to time, giving you few and far-between sympathetic glances. You're grateful for that, at least. “I have business to attend to in District Two for a while, your mother and I will be away for at least a week, maybe more.” Your father says in between bites of sirloin. “Will Arthur be coming around?” Arthur was your uncle, a distant relative your father would like to forget, but it was the one fight he lost to your mother, her absolute refusal for him to isolate her completely from her eldest brother was what a majority of their fights were about in your childhood. Despite that, Arthur always made things more lively, less constrictive, and was the rare times you saw your father intimidated. Your father pauses before speaking again. “He is not, I see it fitting that Coriolanus comes and stays with you while we are away. He will escort you to school and come with his driver to pick you up after his university classes.” You clench your fork, and anger and something akin to nervousness twists in your stomach. Steadying your mind before speaking, you look to your mother who sips her wine, refusing to look at you. “Does that not seem improper, Father. I mean we aren’t to be wed for two more months. What image would that look like?” You try finding any loop, using the family image as leverage wasn’t ideal, but it was a last-ditch effort. “Since when have you cared about your public image? It sets a strong front up for the two of you. I want you to be seen with him as a young respectful woman from a strong house, someone the people can see as the first lady of Panem and I trust you will do as told.” There’s emphasis at the end of his words, more like a threat. Your mother clears her throat before excusing herself to the restroom. The rest of the dinner was sat in tense silence.

A knock at the door causes you to shoot your head up from your book in the living room.  Your parents had left early in the morning and it was now early afternoon, you tried easing the building nerves in your stomach by reading non-stop since before the sun was up, with time put aside to make sure your hair and makeup were perfect because despite hating you fiance and dreading his arrival, some small part of you still wanted to be desired by him.  You set down your book before whispering yelling at the avox passing by. You could see a small glimpse of Coriolanus waiting at the door from the window, but the tree would make it hard for him to see you. As childish as it sounded you asked the avox to wait until she heard your bedroom door from upstairs to close before letting coriolanus in. Like a child caught sneaking down stairs to get a glimpse of Santa, you ran quickly and quietly upstairs, praying silently that Coriolanus didn’t look through the windows next to the door only to see you scampering upstairs to hide in your bedroom. As quickly as you could you make it to your bedroom and slam the door just loud enough so that it could be heard downstairs. From there you crawl into your bed and under the covers of your bed, but instead of hiding from the monsters under the bed like when you were a child, you’re hiding from the monster downstairs, the one who comes to strip you of what little freedom you had left. Hearing the stairs creak makes the dull anxiety turn into panic as the creaking disappears, meaning they’ve now made it to the second floor, meaning they, who you were hoping weren't Coriolanus, were most likely heading for your door. Thinking quickly, you feign sleep, hoping that the oldest trick in the book will work on whoever came to disturb you.  A knock on the door makes you flinch, but still you lay as silently as possible, trying to control and calm your breathing. The door knob turns and the door is pushed open ever so slightly. A heavy footstep echoes through your quiet room followed by a closing door.

Glass against glass is heard before being placed by your bedside followed by a weight on the bed and hot breath tickling your ear. “Sleeping at noon? Come on now, Y/N, I’m not an idiot.” Coriolanus’s voice comes out smooth like honey, but cold like the harsh whip of winter air when you first step outside. You turn over, bleary eyed and fake yawning. “What are you doing in my bedroom uninvited?” Your voice is meant to be accusatory and confident but comes out meek and wavering. Coriolanus backs up, his perfectly slicked back hair doesn't falter even when he brushes it back, a smirk that spells nothing but no-good unnerves you. “I’m your fiance, I think we’re past courting formalities, Y/N, plus, I’ve brought you tea.” Smiling Coriolanus gestures to the white porcelain cup. “Thank you, Coriol-” “Call me Corio, please, the formalities and all are far behind us.” You smile, picking up the tea cup and taking a sip out of it to try and fill the awkward silence that weighs heavy in the room. The bitter taste catches you off guard, scowling as you take another sip, trying to gauge what kind of tea it is. “Corio, what is this, it's such a..strange flavor?” Smiling Corio pushes the cup up to your lips again. “It gets better with taste, and old recipe Grand’mam taught me.” Downing it as fast as possible as to not offend his Grna’mam’s tea you feel yourself get light headed as the world gets blurry. “Corio, what is this..” You trail off, your words are slurred and speaking feels like a chore. Your senses are so numbed that you don’t think twice when Corio gently pushes you back against the feather pillows. “Don’t you think it’s funny that we are engaged and haven't so much as kissed yet?”

 Even through your haze you can see the way the blonde is looking at you. His eyes are hungry, like a predator eyeing up its prey. “I’ve been thinking about you like this for a long time, Y/N, by my side, taming you and your defiance.” Coriolanus slips off his shoes and begins unbuttoning his shirt as he climbs on top of you. “I’ve been eyeing you up for awhile, Y/N, before the arrangements, at the academy, the way you look in your uniform, the way you think outside of the box..” Slowly he begins shedding his shirt, his hands snaking their way up your thigh, hiking up your skirt. “And I see the way the other men in the capital look at you, young, beautiful, rich, pure as snow…you’re a very desirable girl.” He’s made his way to the top of your skirt, slowly pulling it down, leaving you in your top and lacey panties. Now shirtless, Coriolanus begins working at undoing his own pants, leaving him in nothing but boxers on top of you. You try moving your legs but they give up after a few tries. It takes all of your energy to fight to stay awake,your heads not spinning anymore, but even if you could move, Coriolanus would easily overpower you. “S-stop.” You muster out weakly, trying and failing to push him off you, your weak arms are pinned to your side quickly by his own. “I don’t like the thought of another man but your husband taking you, and I intend to fulfill my role as your husband before you retaliate.”

Using one hand, Coriolanus unbuttons your shirt, button by button you feel your cheeks heat up and a growing arousal in your panties throws you off. You had never been touched like this by anyone other than your own hands in the dead of night before. Coriolanus swears under his breath as he exposes the rest of you, eyes wandering back down to your panties. “I’ve known about you far longer than you have of me, Y/N. I’m ready to have a loving marriage w​​ith you, but you just need to accept me.” He trails off as he unclasps your bra, rambling more about how he couldn’t wait and all the long dinners with you were driving him mad. Now fully exposed and more out of it than ever you feel his hands cup your breast. His erection pressing hard against your stomach as he leans down for a desperate kiss. He’s rough, trying to take in as much of you as possible.. Panting, his hot breaths send shivers down your spine, you feel your own wetness as you feebly rub your thighs together, weakly and with as much force as you can you push on his shoulders so he is sitting up straddling you. You tell yourself it’s to get him off of you, but in reality if so he’ll give attention to the rest of your body and not just your now abused lips. Coriolanus has the eyes of a madman as he quickly sheds his boxers and pulls down your panties. Using his thumb to tease your clit, you jolt slightly. Feeling foreign hands on you was a strange yet pleasurable experience. “Corio..” your soft moan of his name made him all the more possessive of you. He wanted to only ever hear you say his name in such a way, and he wanted to hear more of it. Taking out his hard cock, he lined it up with your entrance.  Coriolanus leaned back down, kissing you much more softly as he pushed into your virgin cunt. You moan into the kiss as you feel his cock pushing into you. “God, you’re so tight, you were made for me.” He moaned, head spinning Coriolanus wasn’t sure when, but he was holding your hips down as he fucked you, the way your breast bounced and your hair fell in your face as you moaned his name in breathy gasps made his head spin. “Corio-ah, fuck, Coriolanus..” Your meek voice just made him want to fuck you harder, to draw out more symphonies of his name, to make it known to not just you, but the world that you were Y/N Snow, and nobody except him could take you this way.  In between moaning your assailant's name and begging for more, you had a few moments of clarity, where you knew this was wrong but your body betrayed you. Moving on instinct you lift your legs towards your chest, begging to take the blondes’ cock deeper into you. In Coriolanus’s mind, you were begging for him to make you his, for him to not just claim you in name, but claim a life, a life that both of you created. Slamming your hips against his own Corio could feel himself coming undone, letting out breathy moans of your name you felt his hot cum spilling inside of you, begging for your own release which soon followed. Coriolanus fell on top of you, feebly keeping himself stable above you before rolling over to look at you. Rosy cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat cover you as your hair curls and frames your face in an almost angelic way. You were exhausted, trying to think but coming up blank, the drug affect starting to weigh on you, you allow yourself to block out the blonde lying next to you and let your heavy eyes close, drifting off to an inviting deep sleep while Corio stares at you, content with himself and that you’ll never be able to leave him now, especially with the child he and you would have, tying you to him forever.

[atinyslittleworld]

The Void Series

Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho

Summary: After a painful breakup, Y/N turns to San for comfort.

Word Count: 1,260

Genre: romance, angst, comfort

Warnings: toxic relationship, emotional distress

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling as she stared at the phone in her hand. The fight had been the last straw. Her ex had always been distant, dismissive, and uninterested in anything she had to say or feel. Tonight was no different. She had tried to make him see how much his indifference was hurting her, hoping that maybe, just maybe, threatening to break up would make him realize what he was losing.

But instead of reacting with the fear or regret she had hoped for, he simply shrugged, muttered something about her being too emotional, and walked out of the house. No fight, no remorse—just cold, apathetic distance.

Her heart shattered as she watched him leave, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty room. The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable, streaming down her face as she realized it was over. She was free, but it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like she had been abandoned, left with nothing but the aching void in her chest.

In her desperation, she picked up her phone and dialed San’s number. He was her best friend, the one person who had always been there for her, and right now, she needed him more than ever.

“Y/N?” San’s voice came through the line, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“San,” she choked out, barely able to speak through her sobs. “Can you come over? Please?”

“I’m on my way,” he replied without hesitation, but Y/N could hear the tension in his voice, the underlying anger that was building up inside him.

It wasn’t long before she heard a knock on her door. Y/N wiped her eyes and rushed to open it, finding San standing there, his expression dark with fury. He stepped inside and immediately wrapped her in a tight hug, holding her as she broke down again, her sobs muffled against his chest.

“He left,” she whispered after a while, pulling back to look at him. “He just… walked out.”

San’s jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with anger. He had always known her ex was no good for her, but hearing that he had just walked out without a care, leaving her in tears, made his blood boil. How could someone treat her like this? How could someone be so cold, so heartless?

“He’s a bastard,” San growled, unable to hold back his anger. “You deserve so much better than him, Y/N. He never deserved you.”

Y/N’s voice shook as she continued, “I tried so hard, San. I just wanted him to care, to pay attention to me, but he never did. And now… now it’s over, and I feel so empty. I just want this pain to go away.”

San’s heart ached for her, but his anger at her ex only grew stronger. He gently cupped her face, wiping away her tears with his thumb. “You don’t deserve this, Y/N,” he said softly, though his voice still carried the edge of his fury. “You deserve someone who will cherish you, who will make you feel loved every single day.”

Y/N looked into his eyes, searching for comfort. “I don’t want to feel this anymore, San. I don’t want to hurt. I just want to forget about him, even if it’s just for a little while.”

San hesitated for a moment, but he saw the desperation in her eyes, the pleading for something—anything—to make the pain go away. He knew what she was asking for, and despite the conflict in his heart, he couldn’t refuse her. His anger toward her ex only fueled his determination to make her feel better, to show her what she truly deserved.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, giving her one last chance to change her mind.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “Please, San. Just make it go away.”

Without another word, San leaned in and kissed her, his lips gentle but filled with all the emotions he had kept hidden for so long. Y/N responded immediately, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline, and in that moment, he was. He was her escape, her comfort, the only thing that could make her forget.

As they tumbled onto the bed, San whispered sweet, hot things in her ear, his voice husky and low. “You deserve so much better, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “I’m going to make you forget him… make you feel wanted.”

His words sent shivers down her spine, a much-needed distraction from the pain that had consumed her for so long. She clung to him, her hands roaming over his back, squeezing him tightly as she sought more of the comfort he offered. Every time she did, San would let out a soft hiss, his grip on her tightening as he responded to her touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear, his voice rough with desire. “I’m here, Y/N… I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt herself melting into his embrace, the warmth of his words and the heat of his body overpowering the cold emptiness inside her. He kissed her deeply, his hands exploring her with a tenderness that made her heart ache in a different way—a way that made her feel alive again.

As the night went on, San continued to whisper sweet, hot things in her ear, his voice a soothing balm to her wounded soul. Every touch, every kiss, every word was meant to erase the pain, to fill the void her ex had left behind. And every time she responded, every time she held onto him like he was her lifeline, San would hiss softly, his breath catching as he felt her desperation and need for him.

But underneath all the tenderness, San’s anger simmered, fueling his desire to show her just how wrong her ex had been to treat her the way he did. He wanted to erase every trace of the pain that man had caused her, to replace it with something real, something that would make her feel whole again.

The night passed in a blur of whispered promises and soft touches. San did everything he could to take her pain away, to fill the void in her heart with something else—something warmer, something that wasn’t tinged with the bitterness of loss. He held her close, his presence grounding her as she let herself be vulnerable, let herself feel something other than the aching emptiness her ex had left behind.

When morning came, Y/N woke up in San’s arms, the early light filtering through the curtains. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp, and for the first time in a long while, she felt like she could breathe again. She looked up at San, who was already awake, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice still hoarse from all the crying.

San gave her a small smile, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

She nodded, grateful beyond words. They both knew that this night hadn’t fixed everything, but it had helped. It had reminded her that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone who truly cared about her.

As she nestled closer to San, she felt a small flicker of hope in her chest. The road to healing would be long, but with San by her side, she knew she could make it through.

[wintermelonbear]

Maybe Meant to Be

Pairings: Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste

Summary: Adrien finds out about his soulmates entire secret life, and realizes maybe he doesn't know as much about her as he thought

“GET IN THE CAR!” Adrien’s arm was yanked towards a sleek black SUV by the spotted heroine. He quickly jerks his head to the side to see his parents and Madame and Monsieur Dupain-Cheng being ushered into the car by a boy not much older than him clad in grey and red.

Before he’s even buckled in the car starts off with a loud screech against the pavement. He can hear his father’s shoulder as it hits the side of the car. “With all due respect Ladybug and Robin, what business does our family have with the Teen Titans?” 

“Where is our daughter?!” Sabine is basically in tears at this point and whips out her phone to check for any messages from Marinette. Swiftly, Adrien whips out his phone as well to see if there are any missed calls from his soulmate while he was stuck in his most recent photoshoot. 

A slight look of panic crosses Ladybug’s face until she gives them some reassurance, “Marinette is safe, there’s no need to panic, I promise!” Strange promise to make given their behavior a mere minute ago insisting the Agrestes and Dupain-Chengs drop everything and flee. 

The dark-haired teen boy chimes into the conversation with the click of his tongue and gives a quick glance to the rear-view mirror “Tt, we cannot discuss anything in detail here it could jeopardize the safety of Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng and your own safety.” He tears his gaze from the mirror and puts it back onto the long stretch of road as Ladybug’s elbow digs into his side. Ladybug lets out a hiss, and most likely with the intent of keeping it a secret from the inhabitants of the car she bites out “Robin! Why would you say that, they are going to freak out and worry. What’s wrong with you, you heartless bastard.”

“Oh? I am heartless now? You certainly did not feel that way last night when–” a hand clamps over his mouth before he can complete his thought. “That’s enough. You know what you did and why this is happening.” Touching a comm in her ear Ladybug switches straight into a commanding tone “Titan B1 and B2 reporting to OG can you get us permission for the west warp gate at coordinates….” She turns to the center console of the car and flicks a switch unveiling a panel of controls that rivaled every sci-fi fantasy movie Adrien had ever seen. “Alright everyone buckled in? Get ready to hold on the ride can be a bit bumpy. Also, you may want to close your eyes because it gets quite bright.” True to her words, once they entered the tunnel in front of them instead of being met by darkness it was like they had walked into the sun itself. By the time Adrien opened his eyes again he was in front of a large building that melded into the surrounding storm.

With a grunt, Robin pulled the car into park and swiftly unbuckled himself. After going around the car to open the door for Ladybug and then Marinette’s parents he finally decided to speak up again “Welcome to the Fortress of Solitude, please follow us.” “It’s not as scary or depressing as it sounds, I swear.” Ladybug cheerfully chirped. “This next part you’ll have to close your eyes, here I have blindfolds for everyone. Oh, and put on these cloaks, it's cold.”

Adrien understands that Ladybug is known to be a friendly hero, but the overfamiliar way she was touching all of them felt oddly reminiscent of a certain girl in his life. So much so he struggles to not lean into her touch as she drapes the last cloak around him. 

From this point on for the next 15 minutes all the civilians could sense were the beeps of machinery and mild arguing between the teen heroes as they worked through security clearance. After one last heavy door slamming behind them Ladybug begins to remove their blindfolds. “Take your time opening your eyes, they’ll need to adjust to the lighting in here.” Peeking through his lashes Adrien could see Ladybug nervously glancing at Robin as he gives her a stern look with his arms crossed. 

“I think it’s time you tell them.” This voice is unfamiliar enough that Adrien fully opens his eyes to see the statement came from an older hero, Nightwing. Looking around the room he sees that it is set up like a living room with a large couch in the center, a dining table to the side, and a kitchenette with counter seating in the far back.

“We just got here we should let them get comfortable first!” 

“You’ll just keep pushing it and we don’t know how much time we have until Blue Beetle gets here with his family and we have to do this all over again.” Robin gives Ladybug a pointed look. 

Jabbing Robin’s chest Ladybug chastizes him. “Well, we never would have been in this situation if you weren’t an untrusting jerkwad to begin with!” Robin begins to straighten up his posture to look down on Ladybug and he opens his mouth to retort- 

“WOAH! OKAY THERE! Let’s calm down.” Approaching them with his hands in front of his chest Nightwing positions himself between them. Wrapping an arm around the black-haired teen he  “Robin, let’s give Marinette some time with her family.” 

With her eyes wide open Ladybug growls out “You’re really living up to your name right now.”

With one last glance back Robin bites out “And keep your morals away from me. I don’t care about being nice and friendly like you do. Tt.” With that last remark he quickly turns his head and leaves the room with Dick. 

Fuming, Marinette nearly forgets her identity being outed until she is met with the shell-shocked faces of her parents, her soulmate, and her soulmate’s parents. With a nervous chuckle, Marinette whispers, “well…haha funny story…I can explain?” A light envelops Ladybug and as the illusion cast by the Miraculous’ glamor falls, and a sheepish Marinette is all that is left standing. Seeing Adrien’s disbelief written across his face with his mouth agape she lifts a glove-covered hand to his face to close it and brings her hand back to chest level to peel off the black kevlar glove donning the hand and reveals a mark Adrien has known front, back, and sideways since he first got it at the age of eight. “Well, I’m not sure who is going to collapse first because my dad looks like he has just seen a ghost and you’re questioning everything right now so how about we sit down.” Marinette guides them to a plush couch in the middle of the room. “Let me get you guys some refreshments. Give you time to think about this, I’m sure you all have a lot of questions.” 

By the time Marinette returns with a tray of tea and some prepackaged sweets Adrien is the only one left upright. Gabriel had his head in his hands with Emilie leaning over to rub his back, and Tom was folded into the arms of Sabine as she comforted him. 

“How long?” Adrien’s sudden inquiry nearly has Marinette dropping a glass onto the sterile floors of the fortress. 

“Oh okay straight into it. We’re 17 now so about…one, two,....five years?” 

Adrien’s eyes immediately flooded with hurt.

Immediately, Marinette knelt in front of him and took his hands in her so that their soul marks made contact. “Hey, listen to me for a second okay, and this goes for everyone on this couch right now. It’s not like I left you guys in the dark because I don’t trust you or because I don’t love you.” Looking around she makes eye contact with everyone so she knows they’re tuned into her words, “There’s so many reasons why, honestly, I never wanted you guys to find out about my secret identity. It’s not safe for you guys to know and I don’t want you to feel any worry when I have to be out there fighting.” 

“How did this even happen? When could this have started? How did you get powers?” With his hands holding a fistful of his own hair each, Gabriel can’t help but let out rapid-fire questions. 

“I CAN ANSWER THAT!” Tikki flies out from where she was hiding in Marinette’s zip-up jacket. 

“AAHHH!!! BUG-MOUSE THING?? WHAT IS THAT?” 

“That is so rude. I am not a that. I am a god, a Kwami to be more exact! Why do you humans always react like that.”

“Guys this is Tikki, the kwami of the Ladybug miraculous, she represents creation itself and through my earrings, she grants me powers. I have been in her care for the last five years. She is my best friend and closest ally.”

“I love Marinette! I would never let something bad happen to her.” Tikki exclaims as she flies up to hug Marinette’s cheek. 

“When I was 12 I met a man, the one you would know as Fu, at the time was guarding the Miraculous, a set of jewelry that much like my earrings can grant people power beyond what's normally possible for humans. He said the stars had told him I was to be the next guardian. It was written in my soul.” Marinette takes a deep breath before continuing her tale. “Honestly it took some convincing until he pulled out a slab that detailed what my life would be like as a hero. From then on he began to train me to take over as grand guardian and when I turned 16 he officially handed the role down. That's why you guys haven't seen him in a little over a year. Every time, for the last year at least, that I was “at Grandpa Fu’s” I was actually going on missions or training with the Teen Titans.” Breathing out, Marinette continues, “The reason why you’re here is because someone broke into the Hall of Justice last night, we’re not entirely sure who yet, or what information they obtained. The only thing we do know is that the Teen Titan’s folder was breached and because,” She begins to grit her teeth “Batman and his spawn –you know him as Robin– are nosy little pricks the folders included information about our members’ families and close associate. So we grabbed you guys in case they were able to obtain that level of information and wanted to use your safety as leverage.” Puffing out her cheeks she mumbles, “I know they could probably figure out my family without the listing, and I know he didn’t do it maliciously…but I am still mad at Robin. Even though he’s my best friend…”

At this point, a calmer Robin has re-entered the room nursing a mug and a volume of manga titled “I Chose You.” Adrien recognizes that story, while the content made him mildly queasy it was extremely well written with a moving story. The only thing that he didn't sit well with was the main theme of the story itself. The story follows a young woman Mako, her soulmate Ryo, and a young man Akito. The story is comprised of a love triangle between the three main characters until Mako defies fate and chooses Akito as her partner, hence the title. While it has won many accolades it continues to be a controversial title to many romance readers as very few people in real life choose to go against fate and be with someone who isn't their soulmate. Adrien himself can't imagine a life without Marinette by his side.

Without acknowledging the civilians Robin plops himself right next to Marinette and continues reading his book. Adrien makes a few attempts at conversation only to be met with silence and Marinette's reassurance that it's not his fault.

After a bit more chatting Nightwing jogs in, “Hey guys sorry to bother you, but Jaime is going to need this room next.”

------------------------------------------

As they walk down the barren hallways hovering over Ladybug’'s shoulder Adrien whispers into her ear, “So, who is he exactly? I know he’s Robin, but…” 

“Who am I? I'm simply the better option.” Robin looks back at Adrien with a gaze sharp enough to cut steel. The better option for what? Marinette? Adrien is literally her soulmate. It's written in the stars for them to be together.

“Oh hush.” Marinette chides Robin before turning back to them. “We got into a fight the other night so I may have been harsh with him, but despite his asshole exterior and mainly asshole interior, he’s actually quite the decent guy once he starts to care about you. Very much giving the grinch who stole Christmas.”

“DAMIANNNNN!” A voice booms from a distance as Robin and Ladybug facepalm. A flash of blue and red tackles Robin as Robin brings his fist onto the head of what looks like Superboy. 

“Identities you dunce! This is her civilian family.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose Marinette sighs.

------------------------------------------

A few hours later the Agrestes and the Dupain-Chengs are sitting across from the Reyes family who just learned about Jaime’s superabilities and double life. The Agrestes act as translators for the Dupain-Chengs who have much weaker English skills. They talk about the shock they’re under and concerns for their children’s safety. 

Nightwing tries to reassure them. “Your children are in safe hands I would never let them get hurt if it is in my control. Being a part of the Teen Titans gives powerful young adults the chance to use their powers for the greater good and train for when they’ll be needed in larger-scale attacks. I know you are concerned, but your children are extremely capable heroes.” 

“Got it.” With those words Damian projects the CCTV footage he's been analyzing onto the wall and continues typing away on his computer. On the wall is a clip of a group of ten individuals clad in all black running down a white pristine hall and then the footage cuts to those same individuals in a control room. 

The teen heroes in the room clamor around the projection. “So then what are we waiting for, why aren't we leaving now?!” The Blue Beetle is clearly worked up, most likely because of the endangerment of his family.

“Well normally we would need to figure out who these people are who breached, but considering Robin’s personality I’m sure he already has an answer,” Marinette answers with an air of confidence, an attitude Adrien has not seen her carry since Lila entered their school. 

Adrien tunes out some of the conversation from here as he realizes the exact reason why Marinette 

seemed somewhat unbothered when he told her that the reason their friends don’t invite her to hang out anymore is because she can’t get along with Lila. She had friends here, not just friends, an entire life he didn’t know about. 

“...the Scarlet Toad Society.” By the time Adrien tunes back into the conversation Marinette is staring intensely at an enhanced image of a wrist from the CCTV footage. “Every member of their society wears that bracelet. They’re mainly active in South-East Asia. It is weird that they made the trip to North America to infiltrate the Hall of Justice. Which means–”

“They have a target in mind. The Teen Titan folder would not be the easiest one to grab. They were looking for it.” Robin cuts her off. “But they have yet to visit Jaime’s family nor yours or the Agrestes. None of the traps in the Titan Tower have gone off either. Does anyone have contacts in South-East Asia we should be worried about?” Ravager and Superboy shake their heads.

“Wouldn’t you already know?” Jaime coldly asks Robin. 

Robin opens up his mouth to retort, but before he can Marinette steps in between them and covers his mouth with the back of her hand. “He knows that this isn’t entirely your fault, but his family is potentially in danger let him have this.” Silently fuming Damian scowls before turning back to the monitor in front of him. Clearing her throat Marinette continues, “I can’t think of any contacts I have there, but I can ask The Order to keep an eye on the happenings there, you may want to do the same with any shadows you can contact. For now, I think the best thing we can do is wait. I would offer to go in undercover, but I think we’ll be needing more information first.”

Marinette turns Damian’s chair around so that he is facing everyone and wraps her arms around his neck from behind to calm him. With this action, Adrien feels his heart drop down to his stomach. “Jaime, Ravager, Superboy how about you show our guests to their sleeping quarters? Dames and I–” Damian cuts her off with a glare, “Hey, Superboy over there already outed your first name, as long as they don’t find out the rest I don’t see why we can’t call you Dames. Anyway, we will work on getting some dinner settled, you can come back here in an hour or so after getting settled. Sound good?” 

“Aye Aye Captain!” Shouted Ravager and Superboy in a mock salute, and with that Damian and Marinette headed back in the direction of the kitchen while the civilians and remaining heroes shuffled into yet another hallway. 

From the distance Adrien can hear Marinette shout, “Take good care of my family Superboy!”

“I’ve got Mari’s family, you can go with Jaime Rav!” Shouts Superboy. After the short tour of their assigned space, he asks them if they have any questions. 

“This uh, it may sound silly, but could I ask… what’s Mari’s relationship with Robin? They seem pretty close. I think I might’ve even heard her call him her best friend.” Adrien feels ridiculous for even asking, but the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach just won’t go away.

Jon dramatically gasps, “She said that?? He’s supposed to be my best friend! They’re more like– more like– Ah! I got it! A bickering elderly couple!” 

“A-Are they–” Adrien stutters out in disbelief. Marinette would tell him if she was in a relationship right? They’re soulmates, they’re supposed to tell each other everything! But…but…Adrien realizes they haven’t been telling each other everything. Marinette has been hiding being a superhero for over 5 years. Maybe he doesn’t know her as well as he thought he did. 

“O-Oh! Oh gosh, I am so sorry I forgot you’re her soulmate. It’s not that they are an elderly bickering couple, they just act like it! But also maybe they…well I’m not sure if it’s my place to tell you I wouldn’t be a very good best friend if I did.” Jon looks extremely conflicted, but tries to figure out what to say so that Marinette won’t kill him on site the next time they meet. “Well you know I think if anything she would tell you! Marinette is a good person! Oh would you look at the time, we should head back, dinner could be any moment now!”

At dinner that night all Adrien could taste was the bitter realization that maybe he didn’t know Marinette as well as he thought he did.

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Can u please do a fic where reader is the only surging member of team black and she is the the bastard daughter of rhaenyra and daemon (the middle child between jace and luke) and aegon the only survive of team green so bc he is the king he forced her to marry him bc the realm need stability. Maybe a bit dark at the beginning bc he is obsessed with her but then with time they started build feeling for each other. It's a bit dark but i would like you to write this if u like the idea❤️

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader

summary: reader is the only surviving member of team black and she is the the bastard daughter of Rhaenyra and daemon (the middle child between Jace and Luke) and Aegon the only surviving member of team green so because he is the king he forced her to marry him because the realm needed stability. Maybe a bit dark at the beginning bc he is obsessed with her but then with time they started build feeling for each other.

Word count: 2,4K

Warnings: Angst, fluff

"What is the long face for, dear niece?" Aegon leaned closer to you to whisper. You scrunched your face in disgust when a whiff of his smell hit you, it was a mix between wine and his cologne of something that made you feel nauseas.

"What do you think?" You did not even bother addressing him with any titles, neither official or familial. Aegon took a sip of his wine before placing the cup on the table again and moved closer to you.

"Smile niece, tis your wedding after all" He reminded. He reached over grasping your hand tightly in his, not giving you space to pull away, he pulled your hand over to his lips placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You snapped your hand back forcefully wiping whatever spit remained on your knuckles on your dress.

"My lips shall never smile, especially in your presence" You hissed glaring at him. You will never forget how he laughed as Sunfyre ate your mother, you will never forget how he himself held you in place with an arm around your waist and another was choking you as you tried to help her. You will never forget how he forced your brother Aegon to watch and then sent him to be locked in his chambers where he remained until recently. You had an inkling that he also had a hand in Aegon's death but could not voice it, you had no proof and they announced he was sick.

"When your lord husband demands something, you will give it" He grabbed your chin making sure to dig his nails into your flesh. You pushed his hand away, pushing your chair back you stood up. The sound of people laughing in the background made you want to kill. The sound of the music gave you a headache and the dancing made you dizzy, how could these people celebrate the deaths of your family? how could they celebrate the death of children?

"Do not ever touch me ever again you cunt" You growled pointing a finger at him. Aegon laughed as if you told him the funniest joke. He pushed his chair back and stood up to face you too wiping his tears of laughter away. He was acting as if his mother, brothers and sister did not die in this war as well. Was he so heartless?

"You forget niece, as your husband I have a right to you, I have a right to your body" His words made your blood run cold but you remained standing in front of him. He reached up to touch your cheek almost gently until he dug his fingertips into the nail marks he left earlier.

"I own you" He whispered. You gulped but found the strength to push his hand away from you. Aegon chuckled darkly before turning to the people at the feast and announced, "My bride and I shall retire for the night" his announcement was met with loud cheering and clap with some wolf whistles from the disgusting men.

"If you think I will let you touch you are mistaken" You hissed as he grabbed your wrist to drag you out of the room. You struggled against his grip but nothing worked. He pulled you to his own chambers and pushed you inside. He locked the doors tightly so no one can help you and you won't be able to escape.

"You will be begging me to touch you, sweet niece" Aegon taunted. He moved to step closer to you but you moved away. You moved as far away from the bed as possible. Aegon followed with a maddened smirk on his face.

"I would rather die" You pushed a table to throw him off. He raised his foot and planted it down on the table making it stop inches away from him. He leaned down on his knee atop the table smirking.

"You die when I allow you to die and as your king I demand you do your wifely duties" Your eyes watered with fear and humiliation. None of this was supposed to happen, you were supposed to marry you older brother Jace and rule this kingdom side by side after your mother.

"Never" You shook your head from side to side. Your blonde locks moved along with your head. You were a known bastard of both your parents, everyone knew it as a fact and not a rumour like your brothers. You were born from a night of passion during a visit your father made during his stay in Essos with his lady wife Laena.

"I would rather burn myself than let filth like you come near me" The first tear rolled down your cheek. Aegon laughed standing up straight again and pushed the low table to the side. He stalked over to you and you moved back with each muscle trembling with dear. Your back made contact with the balcony door still closed.

"Me filth? I am not the bastard here, niece" Aegon raised a hand to touch your cheek when he was close enough to you. You reached a hand behind you trying the handle of the door and found it unlocked so you pushed it down stumbling back on the balcony. Aegon watched with shock.

You moved to the railing of the balcony and moved to climb it until you were stood on it, it was made of stone like the rest of the castle. You turned to face Aegon you was shaking his head to get rid of his shock. His face morphed into one of horror. He walked out onto the balcony attempting to save you.

"Do not come any closer" You warned him, holding one hand up to signal him to stop. Aegon froze in his spot also raising both his hands, they were shaking with fear.

"Come down" He ordered. His voice sounded like it was trembling, unlike when he spoke to you earlier, with confidence and authority.

"If you come any closer I will throw myself off" You threatened. His room was not on the ground and instead it was in the tower where the entire royal family resided, the family that had three members left of it, you two and Jaehaera, poor Jaehaera who lost her mother and two brothers, one which was her twin and she had to watch as Blood and Cheese ripped his head from his body. You never really forgave your father from such tyranny but in grief for your brother Lucaerys you never voiced your dislike of the mater.

"Come down ... please" He begged. His whole body was shaking as flashbacks ran through his head. He may have not loved his sister-wife but she was still his sister. It was like history was repeating itself with you stood where she once stood.

"Back away" You hissed. Tears streaked down your face, tears of anger, how dare he feel sad? How dare he feel fear? He was a tyrant who killed your family. He killed your mother and brothers!

"I'll back away b-but come down first" Now looking closely you saw tears streaming down his round cheeks. You gulped remembering your aunt Helaena, you had forgotten about her and her end. You felt a little guilty making him relieve this traumatic event but then you remembered your mother and the guilt was gone.

"I'll come down if you walk step away" You bargained. Aegon took a deep shaking breath, nodding his head he took two steps back. Seeing that wasn't enough for you he took two more now being inside of the room again. With shaking hands you guided yourself back down to stand on solid ground but kept yourself close to the railing.

"Leave the room or I will climb up again and throw myself off" You threatened. Aegon's showed a third emotion that sadness and fear, it showed anger. He huffed angrily and kicked a close by chair making you jump a little.

"You little fucker" He hissed composing himself again. Nonetheless he made his way out of the room leaving you alone in his room. He did not leave because of your threat, he left because he could no longer bare looking at you. Seeing you so broken and then the stunt you pulled, you looked so much like Helaena, maddened with grief and tears of despair running down your face. Aegon made his way to the nursery where his only remaining child slept peacefully, Jaehaera who snored away in the night not knowing what happened.

That night you slept in your wedding dress on Aegon's bed fearing changing into anything else if he were to return, you wedding gown had too much layers to buy you time to escape him. When you woke up again there was a maid in the room preparing you a bath as another fixed the table for you to eat breakfast. They said Aegon had sent them which made you uneasy to eat so you forced one of them to eat a little from everything before you, she left the room crying and trembling with fear.

Aegon was furious with the situation but refrained himself from going to you. You locked yourself in the room afraid of leaving. You were slowly growing mad with loneliness so after two weeks you finally left the room with a black gown on. The people that saw you walk by began to whisper at the sight of you looking like death, hair untamed and face sullen with dark circles under your eyes from the nightmare, you had lost a lost of weight as well leaving the dress to look loose on you.

You walked through the halls remembering the way to the gardens as if it was yesterday you still lived here with your family. Your body froze once you saw Aegon laughing a few feet away. With the full intend to return to his chambers you turned around but stopped at the sound of a child's voice yelling "Kepa! Come catch me" Father. You turned around feeling tears build up in your eyes.

A small head of blonde locks matching your own and Aegon's zoomed in front of him. Aegon grinned cheekily and moved to follow little Jaehaera making small roars like a dragon not caring who saw or heard. Jaehaera was heading in your direction and before your could move she crashed against your legs falling back on her bottom. She looked up at you as tears welled up in her purple eyes. Aegon froze a couple of feet away from her at the sight of you, you looked like a ghost. You crouched down in front of her much to his horror, will you hurt his little girl? You were not that heartless to take her away from him as well, were you?

"Are you alright?" Your voice sounded hoarse from the lack of use. You held your hand out to the little girl of five. She sniffled rubbing her left eye but reached her other hand to grab yours and pulled herself to her feet again.

"My bottom hurts" She whimpered. You smiled a tiny smile, genuine nonetheless. Your other hand moved back to rub at her sore bottom to ease the pain away.

"Is that better?" You questioned. She nodded her head and moved to take a step closer to you. One of her small hands reached to grab a lock of your hair and looked at it with wonder.

"You have hair like my muña, did you know her?" Mother. She pointed out. Her question that followed broke your heart. At least the remembered her mother, even a singular memory would be enough, it was enough for you.

"Yes, Helaena was a beautiful woman" You answered. Aegon sighed in relief seeing you so calm and collected in front of his child. He finally stepped closer to you two and placed both his hands on jaehaera's shoulders.

"Kepa says muña is with Jaehaerys and Maelor now" Father, mother. She whispered sadly. You placed a hand on her cheek trying to comfort her.

"I am sure your mother is saddened to leave you as well" You leaned closer to place a kiss on her blushing cheek. She smiled sadly at you rocking back and forth on the heels of her feet.

"Will you play with me like she used to?" She asked tilting her head to the side. Aegon held his breath watching your reaction. You gave no reaction at first before nodding with a smile. She giggled pulling you in for a hug before running back to where she and Aegon were earlier and began running in circles singing a children's song.

"Thank you" Aegon broke the silence that fell between you two. He held out a hand to assist you back to your feet. He did not expect you to take the help but you surprised him by accepting the hand and let him help you back to your feet.

"It was no bother" You nodded. You turned to watch the now happy little girl giggle to herself as she sang and played alone. Still she looked so lonely, all alone when she used to have two brothers.

"At least she's happy" Aegon sighed deeply. That was mattered to him now, the light of his life was happy.

"Yes" You agreed, nodding your head. You jumped when you felt Aegon slid his hand into yours. You turned to look at him, scold him and yell at him but froze when you saw him looking at your with tears in his eyes.

"I am sorry" He whispered. You gulped not knowing what to say. Was he sorry for the way he treated you? Or was it because he killed your mother? Or for the war? Instead of answering you pulled him in for a hug, in the middle of the garden where anyone could see. He sighed in relief wrapping both his arms around your waist holding you tightly to him. You placed a kiss on his cheek as you moved back to look at him.

"Will you at least try to make this work?" he asked. You looked between his violet eyes, searching for an ill intention, not like there was anything worse that could happen.

"Yes" You responded. He smiled gently and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, gentle and sweet, a beginning to a new life for the three of you, Aegon, Jaehaera and you.

[zablife]

As Long As I Live (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby & Amelia Holland (OC) x Bonnie Gold

Summary: Amelia introduces herself to Tommy and gets acquainted with the Shelby clan, plus one of Tommy's men whom she has particular feelings about. 

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt. This has taken some time for me to finish, but it's completed now and will be released once a week until we reach the end. There are 4 parts total.

Warnings: language, mention of pregnancy, mention of a weapon

Part 1

Tommy’s reverie was broken by the sound of boots thudding down the carpeted hallway. His hand hovered over the handle of his pistol as the door swung open, but he quickly released his grip as he took in the sight of a girl, no more than sixteen, standing at the threshold, muddied from riding and cheeks chapped from the cold.  

A maid stood behind her out of breath with a ready apology. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Shelby, she ran past and I couldn’t stop her!” 

“It’s alright, Clara,” Tommy replied. “Come,” he said with a wave toward the girl, removing his glasses and setting them beside his typewriter.

She hesitated only a moment as she studied him, then as if her mind was made up, dropped the bag she carried and paced toward him purposefully. He sighed heavily, knowing the reproachful look on her brow and the weight which caused her shoulders to slope. The question on her lips would be one he’d heard before, but he would allowed it to be asked just the same.

“Are you Thomas Shelby?” she began searching his steely blue eyes for a semblance of recognition. 

“I am,” Tommy said with a nod though nothing in his affirmation was welcoming. His face remained impassive and his arms crossed at his chest defensively.

Amelia gulped, feeling his stare piercing through her and nearly lost her courage, but quickly regained it as curiosity got the better of her. “Then I believe you’re my father,” she informed him, not wasting any time revealing the reason she stood before him. She had a feeling he was a man who appreciated brevity.

“I see,” Tommy said simply, searching his desk for his cigarettes and lighter. Amelia furrowed her brow in confusion as she watched him take his time selecting a cigarette and rubbing it across his bottom lip carefully. “Have a seat. Tell me about yourself and how you came here,” he offered as he lit it and took a long drag. Rounding the corner of his desk, he leaned against the corner, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling as she spoke. 

Amelia stood a little straighter, collecting herself to explain in the most direct way possible, but found it difficult to keep emotion out of her voice when mentioning her mother. “My name’s Amelia…There’s not much to tell really. Mum didn’t have much, but she raised me with kindness and love. She said you died in the war so I never thought to look for you until my aunt told me you were alive. I came because she didn’t want me anymore, but…I also wanted to meet you very much,” she confessed, surprising herself when she added the last part.

Tommy only nodded thoughtfully, exhaling smoke slowly as he responded in a flat, even voice that contrasted starkly to Amelia’s testament. “I’m a wealthy businessman and a member of Parliament, love. I get these kinds of visits more times a month than you can possibly imagine. Poor girls like you who tell me I left their mother to raise a child alone in the worst circumstances. I should write them all down and make another fortune in penny dreadfuls,” he said with a humorless laugh.

Amelia felt her blood turn to ice as she listened to his callous words. Her jaw tensed involuntarily and she found herself striking back before she had time to think. “I didn’t come here for your money, Mr. Shelby. I came to find my father,” she said, voice shaking with emotion. “You don’t want to admit it? That’s fine because I would never claim a heartless bastard like you either,” voice raised to match her growing temper as she stood face to face with the man who had chosen cruelty over compassion. 

For the first time, Tommy’s eyes fell upon her and the necklace that hung around her neck. His fingers reached for the sapphire and he blinked quickly at the sudden recognition of the gem. “This…this necklace. Where did you get it?” he asked feeling momentarily unbalanced.

Amelia pushed him away, shaking her head in fury, “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you're asking!”

Tommy’s entire disposition changed in that moment as he was transported back to 1914. He remembered the dappled sunshine of the hazel tree and afternoons spent in the arms of a girl with raven hair as his fingers grasped the air in front of him. “I gave that to a girl before France as a promise. When I returned her family wouldn’t tell me where she’d gone,” he said quietly, more to himself than Amelia as the memories resurfaced. Some members of her camp swore they’d seen his girl, Izzy, with a swollen stomach soon after his departure, but it was a rumor he’d chosen to forget in his heartbreak. 

He looked at Amelia now, studying her carefully. “What was your mother’s name?” he asked, squinting at her.

“Isidora Holland,” she replied hesitantly, concerned by the sudden change in his mood. “I-I think I’ve made a mistake in coming here,” Amelia replied, rushing to the door to retrieve her bag.

As the fog cleared from Tommy’s brain, he called out “Amelia, wait! Where will you go?”

Amelia fumbled with her bag, shifting her weight as she replied, “I’ll find a place to make camp. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but let me offer a room as an apology for my remarks…please,” Tommy pleaded. If this was his daughter standing before him he didn’t want them to part this way. 

Amelia stared past Tommy and out the large window watching the rain begin to fall in menacing torrents, an inhospitable gloom descending over the house. The crackling fire in the office beckoned to her and she was practically salivating at the smell of something delicious coming from the hall. She told herself she was staying for the comforts provided and not the apology of a man she barely knew or trusted, but a small spark inside her wanted to believe in the love story she'd briefly glimpsed.

———————————

Lizzie took the whisky glass from Tommy’s hands and placed it on the table as he took a seat on the bed. “You’re certain, Tom?” she asked.  

Still in disbelief himself, he spoke quietly, “she has the necklace, Lizzie.” She hummed, knowing all too well what it meant. In their early days of acquaintance, when he’d sought her body for pleasure and comfort, he’d confided about his lost love. When the opium and whisky hadn’t dulled enough of the pain, he talked and hated himself for sounding too like Arthur. 

Lizzie came to stand over her husband and placed her hands on either side of his face, rubbing her thumbs against his hollowed cheeks in soothing circles. He tilted his head up to look at her, searching her eyes for a hint of anger or jealousy. He found none, only compassion for the young girl who had appeared on their doorstep.

“If it’s true what she says about her aunt throwing her out, we can’t turn her away. She has a home here with us,” she assured him.

Further down the corridor, Amelia wasn’t settling into the idea quite so easily. Running her hand across the beautiful oak dresser in the room adjacent to the nursery, she found a row of gilt frames with family photographs. The first to catch her eye was of Tommy and his wife with their two children, a boy and a girl, a perfect little family. The next was of Tommy smiling for the camera, pride evident in his face, as his son looked up at him in wonderment. Her fingers caressed the glass feeling like an intruder.

As she wandered into the empty nursery and found the children’s teddy bear, tea set and carved, wooden horses, she wondered what she had disturbed when she arrived today. Holding a soft baby blanket to her cheek she ached to be close to her mother again and feel comforted by her. There were so many thoughts and questions swirling in her mind about why her mother's family had kept her mother and father apart and what kind of person her father really was. She knew now she wanted to stay long enough to find out.

——————————

Amelia awoke just before dawn, leaving the house to stroll the grounds in the soft pink haze of the morning light. Listening for the sound of the horses, she ambled slowly toward the stables to visit them in hopes of finding solace there. It was a habit she’d had since she was small and it never failed to quiet her mind and slow her racing pulse when she felt anxious about something.

However, this morning she found she was not alone. As she approached the first stall she startled at the sight of someone beside her horse, the man's white shirt billowing in the wind to reveal a gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “Mornin’,” the young man with ruddy cheeks and an easy smile greeted her. 

“Who are you and what are you doing out here?” Amelia asked a bit more defensively than she intended.

“Could ask the same of you,” he said with a chuckle, going back to his work. 

“I’m here to tend to my horse,” Amelia stated.

“And I'm already doing it, so you might say thank you,” he retorted.

“Didn’t ask for your help,” she mumbled, still trying to decide why a stable hand would need a gun.

Making his way out of the stall, the young man cocked his head at her as he wiped his hands on his trousers. “Are you always so bad tempered in the mornin' lass?” he asked. “Look like you’re ready for a fight!” he said, punching the air quickly before dissolving into laughter.

Amelia was thoroughly irritated with him now, shoving him aside to get to her horse.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Bonnie took a deep breath and leaned against the door. “Don't be like that. I was just having a laugh. My name’s Bonnie. What’s yours?” 

Amelia eyed him suspiciously as she ran a hand down her horse’s neck. “Amelia,” she eventually replied, turning her attention back to the animal and pressing her forehead against the soft fur of its nose, hoping the boy would go away. 

“I heard about you from the lads on watch last night. They say you’re Tommy Shelby’s long lost daughter. Are ya?” he asked. 

Turning to look him in the eye Amelia scowled. “Who did you say you were?”

“Bonnie. Bonnie Gold,” he said with a grin, his hazel eyes catching the early morning rays and shimmering back at her with little flecks of golden light. 

Amelia took a step toward him, recognizing the name. “You were the ones thrown out of the fair last year,” she recalled. Bonnie looked wounded, face falling as she continued with her indictment. “You and your kin are nothing but a bunch of thieves and swindlers. Everyone says your da rigged them fights,” she accused, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

Bonnie’s chest puffed out at the insinuation he’d cheated, stepping closer to her as he asserted, “I could fight a fucking tree and knock it out. Never had to pay anyone to take a fall.”

“If you're so tough, how come you carry a gun everywhere, even to a stable with only little ponies?” she taunted, face inches from his. “What are you scared of Bonnie boy?”

“Oi! What’s going on?” Tommy’s voice boomed from the doorway. 

“Mr. Shelby,” Bonnie said in surprise, jumping back from Amelia. “I was just finishing up.”

“Get on with it then, eh?” Tommy said with a jerk of his chin.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, picking up a pitch fork and stalking off.

“Amelia, what was that about?” Tommy asked, noticing the flush in her cheeks.

“Just getting to know your employees,” she lied, turning back to her horse quickly.

“And?” Tommy said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back onto his heels as he awaited an answer. He sensed there was more she wanted to say, but was holding back.

Amelia looked in the direction Bonnie had gone, biting the inside of her cheek. “You should know his family’s got a bad reputation in our community,” she warned.

Tommy huffed out a little laugh. “You should know better than to believe rumors.”

“What does he do for you anyway?” Amelia asked, feeling bold and seizing her moment to ask indirectly what Tommy’s business actually entailed.

“Oh…a bit of everything, but you might be glad to know he isn’t at Arrow House most days,” Tommy assured her.

“Why is that?” Amelia ventured yet another query, studying Tommy to see if he would continue to humor her.

He took a deep breath, eyeing her carefully before continuing, and she knew this would be the final explanation for the morning. “He’s in training at a boxing gym in Small Heath. Bonnie is a gifted athlete and Arthur manages his fights," he explained, taking a step toward the door. Then in a loud clear voice he proclaimed, "Now, if I’ve satisfied your questions, Frances has made us some breakfast." He rubbed his hands together to ward off the cold before stating, “Join me." It was a statement rather than a request and he instantly began walking toward the house at a rather fast pace.

“Wait!” Amelia called after him, running to catch up. “I’d like to take care of my own horse if it’s all the same to you,” she requested.

Tommy stopped to look at her, seeing the note of concern in her eyes, he agreed. “Alright, but you should know Bonnie’s a good lad.” Amelia nodded, though she wasn’t ready to believe it just yet.

—————————

From then on Amelia took up her rightful place in the family as though no time had passed. She played with Charlie and Ruby, teaching them games she learned as a small child. Her fierce protectiveness over them developed naturally, supervising them when she took them for walks by the river or led them around the stables on the horses. Naturally, they adored her and her kind smile which they saw more of as she settled into Arrow House.

Lizzie enjoyed her company as well. It was a comfort to her, having someone in the house who was able to calm Tommy when he came dangerously close to working himself to death. Amelia brought him out of the office and into the dining room when the maids failed to garner his attention. On those occasions, the whole family was regaled by her tales of travel. Tommy and Lizzie were most eager to hear about the years they’d spent apart, but they never pressed her for more information than she was willing to share. 

Many times after dinner as Lizzie and the maids readied the younger children for bed, Tommy had a few moments alone with Amelia to discuss any questions she had for him. He was open and honest with her in a way he had difficulty with in the past. He wanted her to know him, feeling guilty for having been absent for so long. Amelia responded to this bonding exercise, constantly keeping Tommy on his toes with her multitude of questions about his ambitions. At times he wondered if he should be so frank with her, but her maturity made it easy to explain. 

———————————-

The morning Polly returned from her honeymoon with Aberama, Tommy whisked Amelia away from Arrow House in his Bentley to meet the train. When Polly received the telegram she too was anxious to see what she’d only glimpsed in the cards. Over the years she convinced herself what she saw couldn’t be true, but as she stood beside Tommy on the train platform, the proof was undeniable.

“My God, Tommy, she’s Izzy!” Polly exclaimed, watching the girl from a distance, Amelia's wild, dark hair dancing in the wind. Polly held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun taking one last look before glancing back at Tommy. He too was staring as Amelia approached, now unable to deny the resemblance.

“How did you find her?” Polly asked in confusion and slight awe, still acclimating to the news that Tommy had another child.

“She found me,” Tommy replied. “Zelda threw her out. Told her to come find me,” he explained.

“That family was always a mystery to me,” Polly admitted sadly. “How’s Lizzie taking it?” she inquired.

“Lizzie knows all me secrets, Pol,” he said and with a knowing look Polly nodded. 

“And the children?” she asked.

“They act as though she’s always been here. She’s teaching Charlie to swim and Ruby begs her to braid her hair and have tea parties,” Tommy said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he looked off into the distance, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air.

The look of genuine happiness was not lost on Polly. There was one last question on her mind, but she couldn’t ask it of him now, not when peace had descended for the briefest of moments. Amelia would find out soon enough what it meant to be a Shelby and if she was smart, she would choose a life having nothing to do with their business. Polly promised herself to protect Amelia that day as she watched father and daughter together, thinking of the things she might have done differently with Michael.

Continue reading Part 3

-----------------

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

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@darkness-falls-xo

[xbalayage]

Okay my Silvio suggestion is "what is it going to take for you to talk to me" but I honestly just constantly want more Silvio on my dash 😌

Bastard

Silvio/Reader [His POV]

Angst

WC: 500-600~

A/N: This was longer.. but it's already past the limit I sent so I hope this is still good. And another first for me, writing in his POV too. :3

Silence. Zero eye contact. The cold shoulder. I kept looking at you from the corner of my eye during the whole damn carriage ride. Tch, it was driving me up the fucking wall. I had spent the whole day doing everything possible to make ya happy. Shit was confusing; other women would be wagging their tails endlessly and drooling to be given and even do half of all we did today. So why were you so damn annoying and different about it? And why did I kind of like that about ya? Fine, whatever, be difficult. You won't see me crack. At least, that's what I initially thought... damn it. My sneaky stare found its way away from you and out the window by my side, and a sudden achin' feeling clutched at my heart. I started to get consumed in my thoughts, glaring at my own reflection. I always knew I could be an abrasive asshole. It wasn't completely my fault. Fight or flight became the air I breathe to survive. If words couldn't do it then money could. If I wanted anything I desired, I got it. One way or another. People, or should I say royalty, were money hungry dogs; greed pulsed through the veins. If you showed an ounce of emotion or weakness, you'd be broken down and stripped bare for the world to see. But not me, I wouldn't allow it. It's happened too many times to count and I'd be a fool to ever allow it to happen again. Even if I had status, I didn't know love. I wasn't given it, I wasn't shown it, I haven't felt it. So once I treated you like I had everyone else, you weren't receptive. Why were YOU different? Why was it when you were near, it felt easier to breathe, my throat didn't feel tight and my heart felt lighter. I had to keep you near, I had to learn more, I had to get you to want me and me only - but instead of gettin' you on my good side, I pushed you away. You weren't going to see me tick. But you wasn't beggin' for my attention either. I sighed to myself. I wasn't completely heartless. I should say something before you completely hate me. "Hey, what's it gonna take for ya to talk to me, huh?" I tried a soft approach, "I was just jokin'." Maybe I could salvage this somehow, I'd prefer if you sassed me off instead of completely blow me off. I started to actually feel a little on edge, so I reached for your hair to ruffle it. But you catch me by surprise the next second. "Stop the carriage!" I nearly face plant into the chair next to you, catching myself last minute and as I recovered, I caught sight of the last thing I wanted to see. Ah shit, I really fucked up this time, didn't I? Rio was awaiting for you with his hand, and your gaze bore a hole through my head with anger. A look I've seen all too many times before. This memory stayed with me, however. "I really wanted to believe in you, Prince Silvio. I really did. But you're nothing but an arrogant bastard who can't read a room. Or maybe just doesn't care to. The world doesn't revolve around you. I hate you. Grow up." What you said was nothing new. I've heard it so many times, shit like that never bothered me anymore. So.. why has it been weeks since I've seen you? Since I've heard you say those words to me - they haunted me. Someone I started to feel an inkling of something for, someone who wanted to believe in me; and I completely screwed it up and don't even understand how I managed that. She chose my mutt of a brother over me but if I'm being honest with myself.. she made the right choice. After all, everyone leaves me. Who'd choose to be with a bastard like me?

taglist; @nightghoul381, @yvelk, @celiciaa, @drachonia, @alvieeru, @aquagirl1978, @here-for-gilbert, @widowbunny, @exhausted-courtroom-mom, @randonauticrap

[agentrouka-blog]

Hello,

Once again referring to the Battle of the Bastards episode:

Sansa’s major point in getting Jon to agree to fight for Winterfell was getting Rickon back. But then she admits they don’t have a chance in getting him back. Was Sansa ‘heartless’ or ‘cold’ for being able to “mentally detach from Rickon’s survival[?]”

It took me quite a while to understand (I’m very slow lol), but in you’re previous answer, you’re basically saying Sansa’s point was that Ramsey is not the typical enemy Jon’s faced before and that Jon was not being cautious enough. So therefore the battle plans Jon and his team (?) had made would only predictably work if they had more men. Is that right 😖?

And when you say “Jon never thought to take advantage of her insight[,]” what are some other ways Jon could’ve acted using Sansa’s advice?

(post referenced)

Hello again!

1 - Are we cold and heartless when we acknowledge facts we cannot ignore? Or is it that she wasn't proactively tearing out her hair and grieving for him, when there was a great deal more at stake for all of them and it depended on their ability to focus? Sansa spent all of her captivity deferring her emotions to a later and more convenient date in order to focus on playing a role to survive. It's a hardwon skill. It doesn't mean she doesn't feel at all.

You could make an argument that she was manipulative in using Rickon's safety as an argument to convince Jon to fight, when she could guess there was no hope. Possibly she felt justified because by that point Ramsay was threatening all of the wildlings ("man, woman and babe"), as well. Even in that conversation she is trying to insist that Jon open his eyes to the reality of the threat. ("We don't know that [he has Rickon]." - "Yes, we do.") It's very possible that Sansa herself was partly in denial about Rickon until Ramsay presented them with Shaggy's head, or maybe she always knew. But this was the best opportunity she had to convince Jon to use his Stark heritage to rally the Northern lords, which was much easier for him than for Sansa alone, and she is using it for more than just herself at this point. Tormund was instantly on board. All Jon needed was a push, and Sansa had the means. It worked.

2 - Yes, that's what I had meant!

3 - He could have at any point asked her what she thought. She probably trusted him to make an opening for that while they were planning for battle that night. They never even looked at her.

If you watch the scene, you have three people who have just met Ramsay for the first time entirely ignoring Sansa in the background, as if she never mattered in the lead-up to this moment. Worse, they are discussing battle strategy that is clearly depending on a general education on the subject (the "pincer move" bit where they drag out how haha-funny it is that Tormund doesn't know the term. Are you telling me Tormy had more value to contribute to this plan than Sansa?) and basically patting each other on the back about how clever Jon is for planning to trap Ramsay with a clever little trick and making him angry to goad him into making a mistake.

(You know, the thing that Ramsay will successfully do to Jon.)

Smaaaart Jon, haha. Night-night! What a great leader. He's suffers so beautifully but he's doing his bestest.

You can practically see Sansa's mind go "That's it?" She openly admits to Jon that she has no training in battle strategy, but clearly she was expecting more from them and just realized it's not coming. They really are that confident, they really do think they are up to the task, and it's dawning on her that all their work will end in slaughter.

Hence, her confronting Jon, and it doesn't get better from there.

[internetmisfitsworld]

I know Call of Duty Mobile comics are not canon (at least to my knowledge), but it's nice to see some crumbs of Makarov contents. Most importantly, there's a hint of "Makarov being a girl dad" moments in the comic that had me screaming.

We get to see more of his personality, though some of it were a bit OOC to me. But most of the time, they got him right. More russian quips and all, something we don't see much back in MW2 and MW3.

His sassy bitchy side. We got glimpse of that back in MW2 and MW3 but in the comics? Deadass he's such a sassy little shit, that at some point I couldn't even be mad at him 😂 .

We also get to see him sort of, kind of, but not really, have this odd sometimes wholesome, mostly questionable, father-daughter vibe with Sophia Couteau. This bit was probably that caught me off guard the most, mostly because we know him as this cold heartless bastard that he is. It was mentioned that he took her in as his protege after her father died. She became part of his crew along with another character Wraith. Funny enough, Sophia even slightly defend Makarov against Dame (her mother) here.

"I know how much you long for big strong parental figure to make things right for you"

"Big Daddy Vladimir" (The way I cackled when I read this line agagahhaha we get it Dame ✋️✋️✋️Makarov is big and strong lmaooo she so real for that)

"As much my mother as Makarov is" (Confirmed. Makarov is mother 💅🏻)

Anyway, back on the topic.

Interestingly, Sophia's father, Edouard "Templar", once tried to kill Makarov. Sooo, you can see why I label Sophia and Makarov father daughter vibe as "questionable", since well... it's Makarov we're talking here. Trusting Makarov is a deathwish.

So, what was Makarov's intention of taking Sophia, whose father tried to kill him, under his care?

Personally, I believe there's a thin line between genuine care and using her for his own cause. I do believe he initially took her in to use her for his personal agenda. But overtime, he grew to care for her a little bit. Maybe he sees himself in her, reminding him back in his days when Zakhaev took him in (different circumstances but still there's similarities). But of course, I don't believe his growing care for her diminished any thought of using her as a pawn for him to use. But damn it he did had me thinking that he genuinely, truly cared for her.

Another thought I had is that, he might took her in because he sees it as some kind of twisted way to get back at Edouard? Maybe he thought; "You tried to kill me? Imma steal yo kid and be a better dad than you then lmfaoo *runs away with adoption paper in his hand*"

But not really though. Considering at the time, Edouard was considered dead (turns out to be alive sometimes later though agaaag this comic really kills me because anyone can never be truly dead). So, him doing this in the name of "getting revenge" on Edouard, is pointless. Unless of course, he's always known Edouard is alive the whole time.

Yeah all in all, it was really a treat to see Makarov being nice and affectionate with someone. A treat and kinda astounding sight too. Especially since we know what he's like in the game agagaa. Like yeah we know who he is and what he is, we know if push comes to shove, he will probably betray Sophia in a heartbeat. But still, it's heartwarming to see their interaction.

Makarov Parenting 101: Gives manipulation tactics advice

Makarov Parenting 101: Be the first to cover your kid's back. Also, keep your kid's close.

Makarov Parenting 101: Teach your kid your language

(FYI Sophia is French. And yeah I know that it doesn't really mean anything considering that a) it's a pretty simple and common phrase so maybe she doesn't really know russian and only knows a couple of phrase or b) maybe she learned the language herself. But still, it's fun to consider that maybe she pick it up from Makarov. Bet she learned a few curse words as well 🤣 Mak disapproves at first but overtime he finds it amusing and snickers whenever she said it)

Makarov Parenting 101: Gives reassurance to your kid (even if you have to lie)

Yeah I'm on the fence on this one, because as much as I want to believe it, part of me have a feeling that he had that family killed. Also,

"I'm not a monster" The audacity of his ass to say this line lol 💀

Bonus:

It's a funny sight to see him helping someone up. Because we know what happened the last time he did that (rip allen you should've never take that hand). Also, he didn't have to help her up. She's more than capable to do that. Not just Wraith but Sophia too. But here he is giving his hand to them. Notice that Sophia was ahead of them, so I'm gonna assume Mak went up first then wait out to help Sophia up the roof then help Wraith. "He really said "I might be a mass murdering psychopathic terrorist but at least I'm a gentleman 👍"

Also another Makarov Parenting 101: Always help your kid up first in high altitude situation.

So yeah. In the comic, they seem to tone him down a little. Shows his light and sometimes dark, humorous side (a nice change though I'm not complaining). A little flirty too ("never darling" "Freya my dear").

"Never, darling" (SWOON GAGAHAHAGA)

[slifarianhawk]

Chapter 26: make it easy on yourself

As Albert, Excella, and I drank, I rang the boys back in through the comm link.

When they walked into the room, I offered them a drink to which Nighthawk and Steve took the offer up. I had Archer put away the Disaronno and Osmanthus wine as the festivities were winding down.

"Now that you are a part of tricell, there is something that needs to be done, my dear lotus." Wesker said, stroking my cheek,"a gift if you would believe it or not."

"Yes, the main reason I went to Russia was to extract two people. A Dr. Cordell and his lovely wife, the main doctor in the creation of the Angelis virus project, which you are so versed in." Excella said, taking a sip of her brandy.

My eyes flared their signature, icy blue. My blood started to boil, memories flooding to the surface. My body slowly started to tremble in rage. I dropped my glass and watched it shatter.

A massive growl was unleashed from my throat,"CORDELL!"

(FLASHBACK)

{Trigger warning torture mentions of non con}

/October 28,1998/

Cold, my knees and feet were freezing on the cement floor. Seven needles stuck in my back. My arms chained down pinned to my side. The cold steel dug deep into my wrist, causing deep gashes and scarring cuts. My body naked in a hunched over position translucent white fluid dripping from my back side. Tears stained my cheeks.

CRACK! A bull whip rung out slicing open the flesh between the first row of syringes. Searing pain was all I felt as the wound hastily repaired itself.

"Her will is undeniably strong, colonel Sergei. But it seems the Angelis virus has also made her at least much more easily fixable. Just admire how fast she heals." Dr. Cordell said, walking in front of me as my eyes glowed a cold shade of blue,"tell me, was she truly wasted on scum like that damnable traitor, Wesker?".

I growled and started to transform into the equinoxal mutation. They brought up him. Here, why!?! just to rub salt in the wound of being stuck here. My dead husband is coming back to haunt me again.

ZAP

Scorching pain seared through me. A cattle prod was pulled away from my side. The pain was a reset to my body, causing the transformation process to halt. The ringing in my ears started to amplify.

When I get out of these damn chains, Sergei will pay. He already had taken my support system, and now he's rubbing a wound with salt. I was going to make him pay dearly for this.

"Yes, I do wish I got to my niece first before that stupid roach did, but lord Spencer has his plans for her. As his most loyal follower, I'll obey his every command." Sergei said, taking a scalpel and carving his name into my back, "doesn't mean I can't have fun with her. I already tainted her lovely back side. Now I'm going to work on that pretty little mouth of hers. Slowly, I'll mold her into the perfect toy and soldier for me and Spencer. When the time comes, she'll be able to eradicate our infestation." A dark laugh echoed out of Vladimirs throat.

"HE IS ALREADY DEAD AND GONE HIC JUST KILL ME YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD." I screamed at the thought of Sergei shoving his disgusting penis in my face. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"She doesn't know, does she colonel?" Dr. Cordell asked.

"Know what, Sergei? What are you not telling me?" I growled out, my nails slowly growing and turning black.

"Red queen." Sergei said, turning to face the wall.

"Yes, Colonel?" A red hologram of a beautiful woman appeared.

"Show our dear agent seven forty-eight the final moments of the mansion lab and front entryway." Sergei said as a screen lowered into view.

Cctv footage played of the Arkley lab on the night of July twenty fourth.

"You'll regret this, my lady, of that I promise." His eyes left a trail like mine except his glowed a brilliant red.

It showed him plowing through B.O.W.S. and even trapping Lisa Trevor. The best and worst part was that he was alive and had survived. He hadn't come to me. He didn't even come home or contact me.

"He.....he...... he abandoned me.....why?" I was there. I came back to Raccoon City to find him. Spencer was right he had survived and chose not to come for me.

Doctor Cordell laughed along with Sergei as my heart crumbled away into nothingness. The ringing in my ears was now a deafening roar. My face grew a sheet of black glass like silica, creating a mask that hid my tears. My choking sobs started to sound like blood curdling growls. My canines were now black and four inches long over my bottom lip. Six massive bloody batlike wings ripped from my back, throwing all but one syringe into the walls. Black silica bracers grew from under my skin, breaking their way through my wrists. I flicked the wings, and the chains corroded away. Cracks formed in the cement floor.

I was truly alone. My family thinks I'm a monster. My friends are dead. Sergei rapes me during the night. Worst of all, my husband abandoned me. The only things that keep me alive are my kids. However, Vladimir has my daughter here, and the other has been tagged for capture. My life has been made mute.

Darkness clouded my vision. The ringing was blaring in my head. Make it stop. Make it stop, please. The pain that radiates from my heart was driving me mad. Then, all of sudden, the ringing stopped. I feel cold and cramped.

《Entering 3rd person POV》

"What is happening, Cordell?" Sergei asked the now terrified doctor.

"This is the arch angel form, sir. Most of the research has been non-existent, and this form was just a theory. What happened if the equinoxal mental state was pushed to the limit and broke. She broke sir congratulations are due, but not at this time we should run." The doctor said, terrified backing away.

"Vladmir Sergei! Prepare to be sentenced to Hell!" A raspy roar ripped from Tabitha's deformed mouth.

"I don't think so, my dear fragile flower. I still have plans for you. Cordell, hand me the viral stabilizer you were bragging about." Sergei said with his hand extended.

She raced over to Sergei and swung her five inch long black talons. Her claws were as sharp as a lickers' talons they left a massive gash in Sergeis's side. She tried to retreat back, but Cordell handed Vladimir a syringe, and Sergei had injected it into Tabitha's neck.

Tabithas body started to flame up, and silica surrounded her body. It encased her in a black obsidian like cocoon. When it shattered, Tabitha's body had returned to normal splayed across the floor, and the mutations remained as obsidian statuary.

《Tabithas pov》

"You belong to me now agent seven forty-eight. If you try to harm me again, I'll kill little Miss Alistar and bring that bastard son of yours here. Do you understand, my sweet anemone." Sergei laughed, pulling my body up by my matted bloody hair,"Yes, anemone the flower of fragility. That's what you are not the filthy lotus of rebirth but a lowly buttercup of fragility. You are as fragile as obsidian and just as sharp. The weapon I need will be you seven forty-eight. Make this easy on yourself, my dear, and accept that you now belong to me."

"Yes, sir." I hung my head lost in a tidal wave of depression and reluctance.

(END OF FLASHBACK)

"Commander?!?" Nighthawk screamed.

Huh? What is going on? I can't move

"Everyone get back she's going Arch-angel!" Archer shouted.

The door opened, and I heard footsteps dashing out. It was time. I opened my eyes.

SHATTER!

I broke out of the silica that was starting to encase my body. I won't let that bastard Sergei control my life now that I was free. I'd choose when i go Arch-angel.

Albert was beside me, holding my shoulder. His sunglasses were off as he stared at my now sweat drenched face. He wore a concerned look.

"Tabitha, my dear lotus," He placed his hand on my face, his thumb stroking my cheek,"What did you see? What did you see in that flashback? I know PTSD when I see it. I've seen it in plenty of my men now tell me what you saw my love."

"Sergei and Cordell, when I found out you survived the mansion incident. They both watched me turn into the Arch-angel form. Sergei was becoming my handler, and all cordell did was laugh. Now it's time to return the favor to Dr. Cordell." I clicked on my comm link, "Archer, bring my scalpels, syringes, and pliers to the containment room. Have the prisoners transferred there."

I stood up, placing my corrective shades on, "Nighthawk, please escort me and Wesker to the lab. I need to make several doses of the angelis viral stabilizer and a special treat for Dr. Cordells wife."

"Yes, mam, please follow me." Night hawk bowed, revealing his massive hawk like wings.

"Project a.c.r.o.h? You certainly have quiet the mangarie of interesting people under you, my dear lotus." Albert said, admiring Nighthawk and his wings.

" Even so, we all gladly serve our Pheonix." Nighthawk said, leading Albert and I down the hall to my lab.

Once we arrived at the lab, I threw on my lab coat and sped to my workstation. Quickly, I prepared seven vials of my blood and synthesized three doses of max strength viral stabilizer. Albert stood in the corner as I worked. He seemed deep in thought.

When I dropped to the floor, he walked over and pulled me into a warm gentle embrace, "My dearheart, please be careful. I don't know a lot about the angelis virus, but I can tell that what happened has really drained you. Please, my lotus, make this easy on yourself and rest. Come, I have something to show you. He took my hand and led me out of the vehicle bay.

We walked along the trail of the apple orchard to Alistar's sanctuary. When we got there, I was shocked by the state of things. The statuary was put back together, surrounded by pink carnations. Albert sat at the bench he held me on last night and pointed at the angel statue that had a blue tarp in front of it.

"Go ahead, my lotus lift it. It's not much but something I could do to help you mourn better. I worked ever since you fell asleep, and Excella landed last night." He said as I turned to to fave the tarp.

With a quick grasp, I pulled the cover away and gasped. Tears were now forming in my eyes as I fell to my knees. There was fresh sod and a new headstone in front of Alistar's statue.

It read," Laid to rest, here is Alistar Lancaster. Daughter of Tabitha and Albert Wesker. May she wander the stars infinitely. 1982-2003"

Albert stepped up behind and crouched beside me. He draped his right arm over my shoulder. A relaxed smile was on his face for once. It was stunning.

"I know, I was not there for you or her either when she was born or when she died. However, I know that she wanted this. We are a family again, and once uroboros is complete, no one will harm us again." He said, looking at me, removing his sunglasses.

With a simple motion, I turned and kissed him, "Carry me back to base so I can rest. That way, i can make Cordell pay for all he did to me and Alistar. He will feel the pain that she felt and all the pain he caused me as well."

Albert quickly lifted me up and took me in his arms, heading back to base,"Anything you wish, my dear lotus."

[thecloudstan]

We all know Shinra Sr. was a piece of shit even to his own son growing up, but do you have any HCs about him and his relationship with Rufus? I think Rufus losing his mother at a young age and knowing FULL WELL how promiscuous and heartless his father was with women negatively impacted Rufus's views on romance. Do you think Shinra Sr. loved Rufus's mother? Did he cheat on her while she was alive? Did he forced the prospect of arranged marriages onto Rufus? Would he have cared if Rufus was gay?

I don't think Shinra Sr. had much love for anybody other than himself, in the end. Probably not by the time he started to build the company, generally. It's kind of easy to see him as a cold and distant philanderer, and I don't need him to be anything more than that. Just the small amount we've learned about him with regard to his very young son, he was a bastard. I can see him with women half his age on his arm, and maybe he was more fond of Rufus' mother at first. Or maybe she came from a good family and their pairing was highly favored publicly. I can see them growing distant kind of quickly, though. I think she probably got pregnant with Rufus quite early in the relationship, and Shinra Sr. got bored of it. I don't think he ever wanted to be a father past perpetuating the Shinra legacy, and even that he did poorly since he clearly never thought Rufus would pass muster. It's no surprise his son started plotting his father's demise and his own rise to power as soon as he got the chance...

I can't imagine Rufus having a healthy grasp on what a romance might look like. And I doubt he was surrounded by many women once his mother passed. The whole house arrest thing would lead one to believe that he was under thumb, not exactly sowing his oats, and likely exposed primarily to the Turks and just...boring officials? And while the world of FF7 doesn't seem to be assed about sexuality, I definitely could see his father being a homophobic piece of shit. I don't think you have to try hard to imagine the kinds of things he'd say to Rufus if he had even the slightest inkling that he was inclined toward the same sex...he'd probably deride him outwardly to others, too. He's just garbage, I hate him, lol.

And Shinra Sr. would've absolutely slept around. Anyone at anytime he felt he could get away with, which would be...pretty much whenever. We all know he's surrounded by yes men and he was powerful almost beyond contestation. Until a certain man with a masamune showed up...

[thewildomega]

Finder’s Keepers Ch.8

Whimpering as you began to come back to, your brows furrowed together tightly at the feeling of your whole body aching, your head feeling like it was splitting into. Cracking an eye open after laying on the cold, hard whatever for a moment you looked around and again knit your brows at seeing where you were. Were you... were you in a cave? Trying to push yourself up you cried out as a sharp pain struck your hands. Turning one towards you, you blinked rapidly at the sight of the bloody cuts all along your palm. Looking back around you for a minute or so your breath suddenly stopped in your throat and your eyes went wide when you recalled what had happened. Rolling to your side you stared up the long tunnel and then looked back around you.

Quickly sitting up, the pain not even registering right now you felt your breathing turn erratic and your heart rate rise. Spinning around you saw the snapped rope laying there on the cave floor beside you. Swallowing hard you stood up and felt the cave spin making you stumble to the wall to catch yourself from falling again. Closing your eyes to try and wait out the dizzy feeling you opened them again to see the spinning had stopped but you were still rather light headed. Moving to stand just under the tunnel you looked up but couldn't make out anything, it was dark. Breathing heavily you licked your lips, tasting a bit of blood and feeling the sting where you guessed your lip had been busted. "H...hello?" Hearing no reply you swallowed hard. "HELLLO?!" 

When again you got no answer you felt tears fill your eyes and your chin tremble. "ROCKS?!" you screamed desperately. "SOMEBODY?! ANYBODY?!" Sobbing out now you had to move back to the wall when your legs started to shake. Feeling the tears pouring from your eyes like rivers you slowly sunk down to the cave floor, sitting in the pile of treasure. Starring at the only opening you shook with sobs before calling out for the one person you wanted most of all, screaming for him until your throat burned. "ALPHA!!!" Not hearing his soothing voice made a gut retching cry leave you as your heart called out for your mate to help you, to come and save you.

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

Running through the jungle in the direction Rocks had pointed him in he heard Shakky and Kureha yelling from behind him, telling him to slow down but he couldn't, not when the fate of his omega was unknown. Just thinking to what that bastard had said made his heart hammer in his chest and true fear fill him.  

'Rope snapped and she fell... not sure you'll like what you find, she landed hard and didn't move or make a sound after that.'

No. No she couldn't be dead. She just couldn't be. He wouldn't believe it. She was alive. But she was down there all alone and had been since Rocks had left her there. Cruel, heartless, worthless excuse for a father he was. What father could just leave his own pup hurt and alone in a fucking cave. She was hurting that he was sure of as there was a constant stabbing feeling in his chest along with an immense tugging sensation. The alpha demanding to be with his omega. 

He had been so desperate to be with his female again that he had no wasted anytime with Rocks himself for the time being. Only demanding to know which way to run to go find her. As soon as they had dealt with the marines, which had taken a while considering they had had an admiral to deal with, he was running as fast as his legs could take him. He had heard Rocks yell out that it would take him at least six hours to get to her but he was determined to find her sooner. He had to find her sooner.

"EDWARD!"

Hearing the women behind him call out again he grit his teeth. He knew he would have to slow down and allow them to catch up once more. The two had volunteered to come with him to help find the omega and while he was grateful of their aid he didn't like having to take extra time for them to keep up with him, not that they could help it, his legs were much longer than theirs. Still he knew his omega would most likely need Kureha's medical help as well as Shakky's delicate hands once found. Slowing enough for the two beta females to catch up he took the time to look around and assess where they were. It was the middle of the night now and there was only a half moon which made it hard to see anything. 

"There is the spring, Rocks said it was about four miles north of there." Shakky spoke from beside him. 

"Then let's go." he spoke and saw Shakky nod while Kureha tossed him her medical bag. 

"If you are determined to run us like hounds then you can carry the bag so I have better luck keeping up." 

He didn't reply only held the bag tightly in his hand as he started to run north. 

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

Starring across the dimly lit cave you blinked slowly, feeling what tears were left in your body roll across the bridge of your nose. You weren't sure how long you had been down here now, you weren't even sure how long you had been passed out. Had it been hours? Days? It was cold, colder than before. Probably didn't help that you had cuts all over your hands, arms, front and legs. Not to mention the gash in your head that had happened from you smacking your head on the stone floor of the cave. It was still bleeding some but not as bad since you had managed to cut off a part of your jeans to make a bandage to tie around your head, keeping pressure on it. You could feel the cold, sticky feeling of the blood in your hair and along the side of your head. The wound as well as the rest of your head throbbed painfully, especially around your eyes that you wanted to allow to close but wouldn't. 

You couldn't sleep because if you did then you might miss someone calling out for you. Well that was if anyone was even looking for you... No. They were, Ed was looking for you, you knew it. While you didn't doubt your father or the rest of the crew would leave you to your fate you knew he wouldn't. Ed would come looking for you, he would find you.... but what if they wouldn't let him? What if Rocks had set sail without allowing him to come looking for you? While you knew your alpha would no doubt wonder where you were, what if Rocks had told him you had died? What if when you fell Rocks had assumed you had died and he told your alpha that you had died? And what if Ed believed him? What if no one was looking for you? Were you going to die in here? All alone. Starving, freezing. 

Just like that a new wave of tears were pouring from your eyes and you were curling up as best you could in your painful state. Shaking made your head hurt more, made it feel like it was going to burst. Whimpering you wrapped your arms around your trembling body and tried to imagine it was your alpha who was holding you. That you were safe in his arms, that it was his hard chest you were laying on and not the pile of treasure that you had been sent down here to search through. Closing your eyes as the pressure behind them felt too great you continued crying silently until you could fight sleep no more. 

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

His lungs burned and his legs felt like they could go no more but still he pushed on. They had been running nonstop for hours, he wasn't even sure how long, he wasn't keeping count but as the sun rose higher into the sky, shinning through the canopy he started looking around for any sight of this cave. 

"What's that up there to the left?" Shakky asked, nodding through the trees.

Moving that way he felt relief as well as nervousness come over him at seeing the entrance to a cave. The cave was smaller in size and he had to duck some to fit but he did not let it stop him. Deeper and deeper the cave went, the only light coming from the fluorescent rocks along the wall and ceiling of the cave. As they came to the end of the cave he looked to where it appeared to have caved in and felt his heart hammer in his chest. Was he too late?

"Edward look." 

Dropping his eyes down he saw Shakky crouching down beside a small hole in the cave floor where a short rope laid, the end frayed. At least the bastard hadn't been lying about it snapping. Quickly getting on his hands and knees he peeked down the long tunnel, seeing more of the glowing rocks here and there along with another light at the bottom. He couldn't see much but he did however make out the other half of the rope laying on the cave floor. She had fell that far? He didn't see her anywhere but then again if she was in her tiny size he may not be able to see her from this high up. Swallowing hard he stared down the hole as he called out for her. "Y/n?" Not hearing anything at first he felt his heart hammer in his chest and licked his lips. "Lass answer me." he tried again but there was no response, he didn't hear a single sound. No. No she couldn't be... she wasn't. Taking a deep breath he leaned closer to the hole. "Omega?!" he yelled and felt some small rocks fall to the back. 

"Careful Newgate or the whole place will cave in." 

Listening closely he stayed completely still, not even breathing and then he heard it. 

"e...ed?" 

Smiling so wide his face hurt he let out a deep breath as relief filled him. "Aye little one I'm here." 

"I'll go find something to pull her up with." Shakky spoke before running out of the cave quickly.

Whimpering as you tried to force your weak aching body to move you slowly managed to crawl your way over to look up at him, though your sight was a bit fuzzy. Seeing his handsome face though made all the feelings of pain leave your mind for a moment and you smiled. He had came for you, your alpha had came to rescue you. 

Seeing her smile weakly up at him he couldn't help but return it even though he could tell she was injured. She was alive and that was all that mattered. "You just hang on darlin' Im'a get you out of that hole in just a second don't you worry sweetheart." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he heard Shakky making her way back towards them, a long vine rolled up in her hands. "That gonna hold?"

"Held me." 

Nodding he took it from her and tied a Kreh knot in the end before he dropped it down the hole. "Slip in here and I'll pull you up."

Forcing yourself to shrink down you almost fell to the floor as your body demanded rest but you held out. You were getting out of this hell hole. Slipping one leg through the loop once it was in front of you, you gave two tugs like before and wrapped your arms around the vine itself. 

"You hangin' on tight lass?" he asked and heard her small 'yes' Slowly he started bringing her up, hearing Kureha tell him to go slow so she wouldn't hit the sharp rocks along the walls of the tunnel. 

"...size she is now those things could remove a limb or worse."

"Yer alright little one, almost there now." he assured her, wanting to keep her calm. 

Feeling faint once more you laid your head against the vine and closed your eyes but continued holding tight. When fresh air met your nose you took in a breath and then you were being cradled in something warm and soft. Cracking your eyes open you looked through your lashes to see a huge face above you and couldn't help but grin at knowing you were finally in the safe arms... well hands of your alpha once again. Then just like that your adrenaline wore out and everything went black once more.

As soon as she was up out of the hole he lifted the loop to his hand and eased her tiny body down to lay in the middle of his palm. He saw those blue eyes look up at him for only a moment, her lips pulling up into a weak smile before she lost consciousness and her body slowly grew back to it's normal size. 

"Even from here I can see she is injured, let's find somewhere nearby outside where I can take a look at her." Kureha spoke. 

Snapping his eyes all over her body he grit his teeth but nodded his head none the less, knowing the doctor was right, they needed to get going. Truth be told he wanted to get as far away from this place as possible. Cradling his omega gently to his chest he made his way out of the cave, following the two beta female's lead. 

Quicky finding a small spring not too far from the cave he gently lowered her down to lay on his scarf that he had untied and gave to shaky to lay out. Finally looking down at her he grit his teeth so hard he thought they would crack. Everywhere he looked on her he could see an injury of some sort. Sitting close by her head as Kureha went to work, taking out this and that from her bag he seethed with rage.

Grabbing a knife from her side Kureha moved to cut the strip of what looked like part of her jeans from her head. "She was smart for tying this around her head, kept herself from loosing too much blood." Tossing the rag away she laid her knife to the side for now and parted the omega's hair so she could look at the deep gash that there. "Shakuyaku boil some water." she spoke and saw the woman move out of the corner of her eye. Sighing she moved to look over the rest of the cuts, scrapes and bruises she had. "She is pretty banged up Newgate. The gash on her head is the worst and will need stitches without a doubt as well as some of the deeper slices on her hands. The rest I will clean and bandage until we get back to the ship. Once you give her a bath there I will be able to treat all of her injuries properly." 

Starring down at his mate he gave a nod and moved his hand forward to stroke her cheek with his fingertip. 

"I know you are upset Edward..."

"Upset does not even describe how I am feeling Kureha." he spoke in a deep voice. "He did this, he took her off ship, forced her down some God damn hole and then he just left her there. His own fucking pup... his own flesh and blood. I always knew the bastard was cold hearted but this... this is a whole other level of insanity."

Taking a deep breath the doctor looked to the large male and then back down to the omega. "She is still alive Edward, for now try to focus on that." Seeing his look she rose a brow, "At least until we get back to the ship."  Hearing him grunt before his eyes moved back to that of his mate she let out a sigh and began taking out what she would need as Shakky came back with a pot of water.

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

Getting back to the ship when the moon was at it's highest he looked out to see a few small campfires here and there along the beach as well as some of the lamps lit on the deck and through the port windows. Moving towards the ship he saw many look his way but didn't give them a single look as he carried her to the bath house while Shakky went to fetch her one of his shirts. It took him a bit to get her clean even with Shakky helping him but every time he heard a whimper or whine leave her he would freeze. Once or twice he even growled out at the beta female, the alpha thinking she was harming his mate but thankfully Shakky seemed to realized this and didn't say a word. Tugging the too large tunic over her head he carried her to their room where Kureha met them with clean bandages as well as some medicine. 

"To prevent infection and help her rest." she had told him as she poked the needle into her skin. 

Once all of her injuries were treated and everything that could be done for her was seen to he gently scooted her to her side of the bed and tucked her in tight under the covers, placing his pillow beside her so his scent would comfort her until he returned. Looking to Shakky who stood by the bed he blinked. "Will you..."

"I'll stay with her until you return." She assured him. 

Dipping his head and thanking her he ran his fingertip down the side of her face and neck, over his claiming mark before he stood straight and grabbed the handle of his naginata and opened the door. 

"Edward..." Shakky spoke and saw him pause for a moment. "... I do not doubt your skill but be careful, Rocks is not a foe to take lightly." 

He didn't reply as he shut the door behind him and moved up the stairway. Getting out onto the deck he moved towards the Captain's quarter's door and went to open it but found it locked. Narrowing his eyes he balled his fist and pounded on the door, "Rocks!"

"Captain isn't here."

Snapping his eyes over to the beta female he narrowed his eyes down at the bitch. "Where is he then?"

"Is that dumb whore of yours really worth all of this?" she sneered out but froze in place when the massive male came stomping over to her. 

Snatching the woman up and slamming her against the cabin wall he snarled in her face, making sure to show his teeth. Placing the blade of his weapon against her throat he glared into her beady little eyes with every bit of loathing he held for her. "Consider this your final warning you pestilent cunt. If you ever speak ill of my mate again or fill her head full of lies about her worth to me then I will not hesitate to slice you up and use you as fish bate. Do you understand me?" feeling her heart hammering beneath his fist he knew she was terrified of how serious he was. Seeing her nod her head he huffed. "Good. Now where is the Captain?"

"H..he went for a walk a while ago." 

"Which direction?" Seeing her point left down the beach he huffed out once more before dropping her and walking down the walk board and along the moonlit shore to find his so called Captain. 

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

Gritting his teeth as he stepped down the stairs, every step making the newly stitched slash across his chest shoot with pain he gripped the handle of his weapon a little tighter. Opening his room door he saw Shakky still there, sitting on the foot of the bed with one leg crossed over the other and a book in her hand which she looked up from once he entered. Seeing her look him over before opening her mouth he raised his hand. "Not in the mood Shakky." 

Sighing she closed her book and stood from the bed, watching as he placed his naginata in the corner before stiffly moving to remove his boots. There were quite a few bruises and other small cuts on him as well as the sword wound over his right pectoral that he had no doubt gotten Kureha to sew close. Knowing it was best not to test his mood or patience she took a small breath and glanced to the omega still sound asleep in the massive bed. "She has continued to rest peacefully, though she has called out for you in her sleep."

Humming he couldn't help the corner of his lip from lifting a little at that, the alpha in him loving the fact that his omega craved him. Grabbing the bandana from his head and dropping it to the side table he looked to the beta female and gave her an appreciative grin. "You have my sincere gratitude Shakky." 

"It was no problem at all, she has grown on me and I consider her a friend." Shakky smiled softly.

Grinning as his eyes fell to his omega he felt his heart warm in his chest. "I think she would be happy to call you a friend as well." 

"Then you will have to promise to find a way for us to keep in touch once we all go our own way." Seeing him look to her in a way of asking what she meant she only grinned and gave another hum. "I do not see the Rocks Pirates lasting much longer, there are talks of some unlikely allies forming." Realizing she might have said too much she blinked and gave a small smile. "Nothing to worried about now. Go on and get some rest, I will see to it your post is covered." 

Without another word he watched as the female left. Waiting a few seconds he moved over to lock the door before removing his pants and crawling into bed beside her, having to bite his lip to hide his groan of pain. Knowing they could no sleep how they normally did, with her on his chest, he made sure to keep his pillow between them so she wouldn't roll beside him and risk him crushing her. Turning his head to look at her he took a deep breath and sighed as his eyes slipped close. They both could rest now that they were back where they belonged, by each other's side. 

A/N:Not sure if that is how Edward got one of his scars or not but this is what I'm going with because I reckon the person who managed to land a blow hard enough to scar on the Whitebeard would have had to been a legend all on his or her own. Sorry for not writing the fight between Rocks and our man, it is not exactly something I am good at describing but I promise Rocks did not come out unscathed and I will bring it up in the next ew chapters as well as add in some more tensions moments between the world's strongest pirate crew. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you have time I would greatly appreciate feedback. Thank you for reading!

[cdyssey]

Hard Candy Christmas

Summary: After their holiday dinner, Melissa and Barbara ensure that a tipsy Jacob makes it home safely.

CW: Father-Related Trauma, Alcohol Usage/Mentions [Tipsiness], Suggestiveness

AO3 Link

—

“Hey, kid,” Melissa says, clapping a firm hand on Jacob’s shoulder, “gimme your keys. I’m gonna drive ya home tonight.”

It’s not a question in her blunt voice so much as it is an indisputable fact. She’s taken pity on the poor bastard, and he’s coming with her whether he likes it or not. 

Besides, she probably owes it to him for being a bit of a diva earlier.

(When it comes to all things Barbara Howard, she’s never been entirely good at sharing.)

(Or maybe more accurately still, she’s entirely too good at sharing her best friend with others, and their annual Christmas feast is the one time when she’s never had to.)

(So she'd been selfish about the dinner.)

(Because it had blindsided her—utterly killed her—for Barbara to turn the one thing they do for themselves every year into a charitable act of Christianity for Jacob… and another paradigmatic moral lesson for Melissa.)

(Of course, though, she supposes loving Barbara Howard is always a lesson in morality, a matter of discipline and restraint, of never once saying exactly what she means. It is religion, loving Barbara. It is a set of strict laws that she dutifully follows. It is divine and holy worship. It is guilt and it is occasionally pain.)

Anyway, she feels like she’s gotta make somethin’ up to someone.

Barbara. Jacob. God.

Maybe she’ll kill three birds with one stone by doing this.

“Meliiiiisssa,” the younger teacher drawls, laboriously lifting his head from where he’d been resting it on one of the round tables. He’d apparently had a little too much wine—(approximately a single plastic cup)—and now his pale cheeks are flushed, his curly hair stickily plastered to one side of his head. “You don’t have to do that. I can just call a Lyft.”

“Hell to the no,” she replies, fondly shaking her head. “I wouldn’t trust one of those even if you were stone cold sober.”

It’s less a dislike of Lyft than it is a long-standing belief that no one’s safer than in her own car with herself behind the wheel. The only person she’ll ever let drive her is Barbara, and that only started a couple of years back when she needed someone to take her home after her root canal. 

No one else, though. 

(She’s got a slight thing about being in control—or, at least, having the probable illusion of it.)

The kindergarten teacher, who’d been helping Mr. Johnson sweep the floor, pauses mid-chore and leans on the long handle of the broom, resting her chin on top of her neatly clasped hands.

“And sober you’re clearly not, sweetheart,” she adds somewhat unnecessarily, smiling at both of them from across the room, angelic in her pearl-studded sweater, visibly pleased that Melissa is making an effort.

“Lightweight,” Mr. Johnson snorts from the floor, where he’s dutifully holding the dustpan. 

“But how will you get home?” Jacob asks, tilting his head at Melissa quizzically. He looks as though he’s trying to solve an incredibly hard puzzle that’s already missing a few of its pieces. In hindsight, she should have known that the little string bean can’t hold his booze well—he’s, like, ninety pounds soaking wet and has the overall constitution of a clumsy kitten.

“Eh, Barb’ll follow us and then bring me back to the school once I’ve dropped you off.”

She shrugs at Barbara only half-apologetically.

Sorry.  

But she receives an emphatic nod in response, one that more or less says, No, no, we’ve got this.

And she reckons that they do.

For all of their incessant moaning and groaning, they’re not entirely heartless bitches. Neither of them plays around with their kids’ wellbeing, especially when it comes to making sure they get home safe and sound. It’s the perpetual teacher in them.

It’s their fundamental inability to not care. 

“So keys,” she repeats, holding out her hand and making an impatient gimme motion. “Now. Before I wrestle them outta your pocket.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jacob winces, his eyes widening comedically.

“Boy, have you even met Melissa?” Mr. Johnson asks incredulously. 

“Oh, she so would,” Barbara laughs, nodding vigorously at the same time.

And Melissa only smirks at them both, her cheeks pleasantly flushed.

She feels so seen.

—

Jacob’s car is a tiny ass Honda Civic that’s hard to get into, but it’s clean and it smells nice, and she can just maybe endure listening to show tunes for a fifteen-minute drive. With the Civic's indisposed owner safely deposited in his own passenger seat by the combined efforts of herself, Mr. Johnson, and the grace of God, Melissa cranks up the car and smoothly pulls out of the tiny school parking lot. Jacob attempts to give her directions—(“you turn right at the capitalist enterprise that is otherwise known as McDonald’s”)—but she tunes him out and lets the sexy British GPS woman on her phone set them straight. Twin flashes of light in the rearview mirror let her know that Barbara is closely following, likely singing along to Nat King Cole’s Christmas album and incorrectly referring to him as John Ford Coley in her head.

She smiles softly at the image.

Her work wife is such a dork…

“Youuuu’re so kind, Melissa,” Jacob sighs dreamily, mentally pulling her back to the car she's currently driving instead of the one behind them. He's reclined in his seat, his hands neatly folded on top of his stomach. “And pretty. Has anyone told you that you look pretty tonight?”

“Just you and Barb,” she chuckles, her smile deepening at the mere memory of Barbara’s arms around her neck this morning after they exchanged Christmas presents. Barbara had somehow managed to get her an autograph from Jalen Hurts, the Eagles quarterback, and Melissa had immediately joked about buying Barbara a vibrator, nearly causing her friend, a perpetual prude, to choke on her own spit. (She had, in fact, bought her and Gerald tickets to a fancy schmancy dinner show sometime next week. She just thinks it's fun to make Barbara blush.)

They’d laughed and teased each other and enthused about their beloved annual holiday feast, as was their wont, but at the end—just before the first bell rang—Barbara had gently held her by the forearms and said, “Melissa Schemmenti, you look like an absolute Christmas gift today.”

She had tucked a stray curl behind Melissa’s ear then, her knuckles just ghosting the exposed column of her neck, but even this barest touch was electric, unraveling her delicate nervous system and turning every dendritic ending into a firework bursting along the length of her arms— burning her and enlivening her and killing her and saving her.

She is uniquely hurt by Barbara Howard’s touch, and oh, fuck her sideways, she is simultaneously healed.

And swallowing deeply, she had prayed to God—for surely the hundredth time, the thousandth—that she would stop having inappropriate thoughts about her happily married and assuredly heterosexual best friend. 

(Granted, she’s pretty sure that homoerotic pining is not God’s area of expertise.)

“Well, people should tell you more often,” Jacob says firmly, lifting a wobbly finger in the air as though he’s pontificating something. “I think everyone should be told that they’re pretty at least once in their life.”

When he doesn’t receive a discouraging reaction at this lofty proclamation—(she's too distracted by the thought, the memory, the tangible absence of Barbara)—he continues in a singsong voice. 

“You’re pretty, and my boyfriend’s pretty, and Janine’s pretty and Gregory’s pr—“

But Melissa comes to her senses quickly enough and cuts him off as nicely as possible, ninety-nine percent sure that he’s about to just go through his goddamn contact list. 

“Yeah, buddy. I know,” she laughs, simultaneously exasperated and endeared—as she so often is with most of the younger staff at Abbott. “Everyone’s pretty. You’re pretty yourself.”

It’s not hard for her to say at all, even if she's just doing it to shut him up. Jacob’s a good kid, and she likes him. Hell, she just told the camera crew that she loved him earlier today and actually meant it. Melissa’s not the type of person who doles that word out carelessly after all; when she l-words someone, she feels it so intensely, down to the atoms of her soul. She loves fiercely and deeply, with every available inch of herself. But she’s been betrayed far too many times—especially by the people whom she thought never would—to not be somewhat economical with the expression.

So when she says she loves Jacob, it means something.

It ain’t just an empty aphorism.

It is a rare and genuinely bestowed trust.

When she glances over at him at a red light—perhaps to offer him a fond and crooked smile—she’s surprised to see that the kid is frowning harshly, his eyes overly bright in the crimson wash.

“My dad doesn’t really think so,” he says quietly, staring upwards at the ceiling of the car. “That’s what a lot of the fights were about when I used to go home for Christmas…”

He trails off, seemingly collecting his thoughts or perhaps unwilling to continue them, and Melissa can only stare at him—at a rare loss for words—until the light turns green again, and Barbara's impatiently honking behind her. She presses the gas pedal a little harder than she should—(resisting her road-rage instinct to flip her friend a quick bird)—and reluctantly returns her attention to the road.

“Oh, yeah?” She finally asks, restlessly tapping her thumbs against the steering wheel. It’s an implicit invitation for him to go on—perhaps the first she’s ever extended to the school’s resident over-chatter. Jacob talks so much over the course of a given school day; it is only now, in the relative quiet of this tiny car, beneath the implicit understanding that the younger teacher is in a rare state of vulnerability, that she realizes that this may be the first time he’s ever been honest.

He's always so perky, often getting on her and Barbara’s last damn nerves when he hovers over them in the lounge.

But she supposes that cheesiness can be a well-worn facade too.

“Dad wanted me to be a lawyer like him, and I became an elementary school teacher,” Jacob finally sighs, his voice achingly dull. “He wanted me to play baseball in high school, but I joined theatre. Wanted me to stop spouting what he called ‘liberal crap’ and vote like a real man… and, um, well, I guess he wanted me to be a real man in general.”

“The hell?” Melissa immediately recoils, already of half-the-mind to go beat Jacob’s dad up with her blowtorch. She wouldn’t even use it for its intended purpose. She’d just straight up clock him on the head with the fuel canister. “You are a real man. Whatever the fuck that means anyway.”

A man ain’t a man just because he’s got an extra digit between his legs in her humble opinion.

And it’s not about him likin’ football or cars or beer either, even if she enjoys men who do like those things immensely. 

A man’s a man if he says he’s one.

Point blank.

End of story.

“Not the way he wanted me to be, though,” the kid laughs lifelessly, now swiping the heel of his hand across his eyes. “My mom usually stood up for me, but I didn’t like making her feel so stressed out at Christmas, so a couple of years ago, I just stopped going back…”

This revelation, far more awful than she had ever expected and all too familiar to her at the exact same time, collects like a horrible bruise upon Melissa’s sternum. She knows what it’s like to have a distant and disapproving father, a man with her eyes looming over her shoulder, never there and always around—neglectful when he did decide to drunkenly darken the doorstep of the six-child home he had so carelessly created and the leering voice in her head when he was gone. It hurts her to know that Jacob has experienced the incisive wounds that only a shithead father can inflict. She wants nothing more than to pull the car over and crush him into the biggest embrace that she’s ever given the boy, wants to hug the hurt all out of him—but Barbara is close on her bumper and the apartment apparently isn’t too far away—so she settles for reaching over to place a hand on her young colleague’s arm where it’s resting on the console.

“Fuck your dad,” she says firmly, grit in every blunt syllable. “Fuck him in his loser eye.”

If Jacob reacts to these choice words, she doesn’t see it, determinedly focusing on the black ribbon of road stretching out in front of her. However, she guesses that he’s pretty affected by the way that his next reply is delivered in a voice that’s three octaves higher than usual. 

“Um, strong words for a man you’ve never met before!” He laughs, half-hysterical, and it’s far too clear to her that he’s doing his damnedest not to cry.

“And I mean ‘em all,” she huffs without flinching. “There’s nothin’ wrong with ya, kid.”

A slight pause as she mulls on that statement and decides that it categorically isn’t true.

“Well, I mean there so totally is—but in the good way,” she amends thoughtfully (and rather loudly, so he doesn't go about getting the wrong idea). “In the way that makes you just as fucked up as the rest of us at dinner tonight.”

She dares to look to her side then, peeking long enough to see the confusion furrowing the young teacher’s brow. It was a vulnerable admission, and she supposes she’s never shared one of those with him before.

But if he can be honest about his bastard dad—which takes a hell of a lot of guts—then she can at least give him this.

She can at least give him the true meaning behind her and Barbara's Christmas.

“Huh?” He sits up abruptly, his mouth slightly parted in a comic “o” of surprise, and she glances away again, doesn’t really like looking people in the eye when she tells them how she really feels.

“The truth is,” she explains evenly, “none of us at that table have all too many good memories of Christmas either. My family’s bonkers as hell." Understatement of the year. "Barbara’s in-laws drive her up the wall." And Gerald, bless his heart, doesn't know how to help her out, always a bit of a pushover when it comes to his aging parents and siblings. "Mr. J’s family ain’t close by, I guess. So we all know the tune to that one Dolly Parton song.”

“‘Hard Candy Christmas,’” Jacob says automatically. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” she chuckles, unsurprised that he knows it. “And so when Barb and I started this tradition decades ago, we resolved that we’d never have a Hard Candy Christmas again—not when we had this. Not when we had each other.”

Melissa doesn’t regret that last sentence, but she has to admit, it’s not the straightest one she has ever uttered in her fifty-nine years.

Which tracks, really.

“So, uh, anyway,” she squeezes Jacob’s arm once before finally returning her hand to the steering wheel. They’re nearly there, and she's about all-honestied out for one fifteen-minute car trip; candor's never really been her strong suit after an entire lifetime of fearing that someone will use it against her like a knife. “You’re part of the club now, buddy. No more Hard Candy Christmases if ya stick with us.”

It's a ridiculously saccharine thing to say, and she can practically feel her Uncle Vinny rollin' over in his grave at his favorite niece ever becoming a soft touch, but when Melissa hears the kid sniff somewhere next to her, her heart melts all over again—as it so easily does. 

She loves the kid, and that means something.

“Thank you, Melissa," he smiles at her with big, watery eyes. "And Merry Christmas."

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

—

After she and Barbara make sure that Jacob is safely in his apartment, the two of them clamber back into the latter’s sedan, shivering violently from the cold. 

“S-sweet baby Jesus in the morning,” Barbara stutters as she twists her keys in the ignition with fumbling fingers, “I was absolutely not built for this weather.”

“Southern wuss,” Melissa quips, though she’s not much better herself, encircling her jacketed arms around her chest tightly, her green scarf coiled around her neck several times over. Her liquor coat has long been shrugged off, and thirty degrees just feels like thirty godawful degrees again, icing the marrow of her aching bones. She sighs in relief when the car’s heat finally kicks on, and she holds her ungloved hands against the right-side vent, rubbing them together, clinking her various rings.

“Oh, give me a Louisianan winter any day,” Barbara sighs dramatically as she backs out of the lot, briefly placing her arm on the head of Melissa’s seat to better peer over her shoulder. “I can endure the humidity, but the cold just aggravates my arthritis...”

“Yeah,” she returns somewhat perfunctorily, a little bored of the weather conversation—now idly staring out of the window. She sees Jacob’s Civic where she had parked it as they slowly roll by, the license plate that unfortunately says NAMAST3 illuminated in the golden glow of Barbara’s headlights.

It’s a good reminder.

There’s something she’s been meaning to do.

“Sorry that I volunteered ya for this little excursion,” she offers softly, even though she’s well-aware that she’s already been forgiven. She just likes to say her apologies aloud in the same way that she likes going to confession twice a year—once around Christmas and then again at Easter. Naming her copious sins always seems to make her feel a little better about having committed them in the first place. “I know you hate night driving.” 

But Barbara only carefully shakes her head without looking away from the road. Ever a dutiful driver, she clicks on her turn signal as she prepares to pull out of Jacob’s apartment complex and back on to the main road, even though no one’s really around to see it.

“We had to make sure that boy got home alright,” she shrugs like it’s obvious—and perhaps a little redundant even—and she supposes that it is. They’d already said as much to each other in the wordless conversation they exchanged back in the lounge. “Goodness, he almost got run over this evening! I wouldn’t have objected to bubble wrapping him after that.”

“Dumbass,” Melissa snorts fondly. 

“Like a little kid,” Barbara agrees, her warm laugh filling the car.

“That’s probably why we like him so damn much.” 

“I concur.”

(They mostly seem to do.) 

“But regardless, Melissa…” Barbara starts and then just as abruptly stops, biting her plump lower lip. It’s an unexpected and uncharacteristic moment of hesitation from the older woman.

After all, she is meticulous with every action and every word, Barbara Howard—deliberate and measured and so perfectly in control of herself. 

When they were younger women, it used to make Melissa sick with envy.

And now, it just sometimes makes her feel sad for her friend.

“… I apologize for inviting him in the first place,” Barbara says after another pregnant moment, the smile long faded from her dark eyes. “I swear we can go back to our norm next year—just you and me and our dear friend Merlot… if that’s what you would like, of course."

And yet another pause as the older woman swallows delicately, the peristaltic motion unmistakable—highlighted even by the gentle glow of the car's dashboard.

“… I wouldn’t be opposed.”

It is the same promise and then some that she made when they stood out on the concrete stoop together only a little while ago—at a passive aggressive and silent standstill that Melissa had refused to be the first one to break. 

She’d been so mad, so goddamn hurt that not only had their beloved Christmas had turned into a shitshow, but that Barbara had expected her to simply deal with it, regarding her with patronizing expressions all throughout dinner and scolding her like she was just another one of her kindergarteners.

But the older woman had caved.

Had promised that next year, it could be just them again.

And even though it all turned out wonderfully in the end, this is  still a thoroughly tempting offer, having Barbara all to herself again—no Jacob (as fond as they are of him) or Mr. Johnson (as lovely as he is) or any other possible interlopers besides. That’s how most of these dinners have traditionally operated, and the times they’ve shared—sitting across from each other at their favorite round table as Michael Bublé softly croons about Jesus in the background—have been amongst Melissa’s most treasured memories.

Both of them have every reason to hate Christmas, and they’ve spent countless hours on the phone or in the teacher’s lounge complaining as much to each other. 

They’ve carved out one night for themselves every year where they’ve taught each other to love it.

But eventually—after allowing herself a few indulgent seconds to irresistibly revel in this nostalgia—Melissa exhales and finally gives up the domestic fantasy, packs it away with all the rest.

There are new traditions now. 

They have friends other than themselves.

It is a uniquely funny feeling in the sense that for the longest time, it’d pretty much just been them against the world at Abbott Elementary, the stalwarts of the school in the frequent face of incompetent administration, the teachers who have lasted for years upon years when new faces have continually come and gone. They’ve shored each other up, side by unchanging side in the trenches of an underfunded and under-appreciated public school system, and it’s entirely possible that they’ve forgotten that there’s such a thing as other people in the process.  

After all, who needs other people when they have each other?

And yet, over the course of just this past year alone, some of their more exclusive traditions have been challenged by the awareness that there are people in this school besides their students who look up to them.

Who need them.

And both Melissa and Barbara alike, they like to feel needed.

It is how they know they are loved.

Oh, of course, there is absolutely something in her—something selfish, something grandiose, and something loud—that revels in the fact that apparently, all she has to do is say the word and keep things the same as they always have been between them. They can continue as they have always done, having their annual Christmas dinners, and never questioning to themselves why the happiest they ever feel during the winter holiday is when they’re sitting at a candlelit table together and playing house in the empty halls of their school. It relieves Melissa that Barbara feels the attraction to their history as much as she does. When she says that she’s not opposed to their dinners just being the two of them, that’s assuredly repressed Barbara-speak for wishing that such could be true.

It thoroughly gratifies her that there’s a part of this consummate Christian woman that is ever mean.

And possessive.

And hers entirely.

Melissa Schemmenti’s.  

“Nah,” she smiles, at once rueful and somehow triumphant. “We can’t kick Tiny Tim and Mr. J out now. Neither of us have got it in us to be that much of a dick.” 

She thinks on it for a moment.

 “Besides,” she adds fairly, “someone’s gotta help us polish off all the shit we cook.”

(They always do too much—sometimes even baking a full ham and including one too many sides. This is mostly her own fault—always an overzealous cook, even to the last—but Barb’s often guilty of thinking they need both a sweet potato casserole and mashed potatoes. And a pie. And if not a pie, a tray of cookies. But if cookies aren’t enough, she can certainly whip up a pudding…)

“I suppose you’re not wrong,” Barbara smiles wistfully from the corner of her mouth. 

It’s the end of an era for both of them, even at the same time that it might just be the start of something new.

It’s kind of exciting.

And it’s still rather sad.

Heart breaking almost—that they have to be good Christians.

“Never am,” she smiles briefly, but she feels as though it’s important to seriously add, “I’m just finishing what you started, though, Barb. You had the right idea in the first place—inviting the kid. He was havin’ a rough time tonight.”

There’s an expectant pause, as though Barbara is waiting for her to elaborate, but Melissa stubbornly forces the moment to pass in a few seconds of awkward silence.

Not her story to tell. 

The older woman seems to understand, though, because she nods slowly.

“It was simply the right thing to do,” she hums modestly, never one to easily accept praise. “We both know what it’s like to have a difficult time at the holidays..."

“Yeah, I told him that,” Melissa snorts. “I even let him know what our favorite Christmas anthem was. And—you’ll get a kick outta this—I even said that as long as he was with us, he wouldn’t have to have a Hard Candy Christmas again.”

“Oh,” her friend gasps pleasantly, lighting up like a Christmas tree, “that is delightful. I never knew you could be so corny, Melissa.”

“Me neither,” she shakes her head in good-natured disgust. “They’re gonna end up takin’ my tough card away if I keep it up..."

“Perhaps we’re both Mother Teresa then,” Barbara teases, and as she pulls up to a stop sign, playfully cuts her eyes at Melissa, peering at her coyly through her long and elegant lashes, a smirk just pulling at her beautifully shaped lips.

Fuck.

She has to remind herself that she has a boyfriend. 

Again. 

(But she never seems to forget that Barbara is married; it is the inconvenient truth that leaves an indelible stain upon her soul each and every day.)

“Oh, but didn’t ya hear?” She capably gives exactly what she’s been given, lightly nudging her friend on the elbow and lowering her voice with delicious relish. “She’s apparently a huuuuuuge racist.”

And she’s immediately rewarded—Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, she’s absolutely blessed —when Barbara Howard laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

And maybe it is.

After all, their world mostly consists of just the two of them alone.

(Visitors occasionally allowed.)

[batmanschmatman]

Joe Liebgott - Marbled Polecat

Joe is another unusual one in the Easy gang, as he’s perhaps the least motivated by social bonds of most of the main cast. Historically, Joe went home, never willingly spoke to anyone from Easy again, and also ignored his actual family for about a year before finally moving back closer to home. Obviously none of that comes up in the show, but I think we get hints of that with the fictionalized Joe Liebgott too. He’s part of the group and gets along with most of the guys, but he’s got a meaner sense of humor than most and is more actively willing to pick a fight or assert himself. Not because he wants to be top dog, mind you, but because he wants the guys to know he’s not to be fucked with, even if he’s sort of skinny, short, and baby faced.

Most mustelid souls are pretty solitary folks. They aren’t necessarily energized by or in need of the company of others, and are perfectly happy to be on their own, doing their own thing. Again, Joe gets along fine with most of the guys, but he’s not especially tight with anyone the way we see folks like Skip/Malark, Babe/Bill, Dick/Nix/Harry, etc. His closest friends we see on screen are Chuck, who he doesn’t actually have many scenes with, Babe post Foy, and Web, who he absolutely has a love/hate relationship with, and he wouldn’t exactly be heartbroken to never talk to any of them again. It’s not that he dislikes them, it’s just he’s the sort of person who can let things go and move on with his life pretty easily.

Joe does have some softer qualities, like when he’s tending to Tipper or Tab in Carentan. He does care about people and isn’t a completely heartless bastard by any means, but his self protectiveness ends up drowning out this side of him more often than not. He can be gentle and kind, but in the long run, it takes a lot for him to really put his own bullshit aside to be really loyal, open and trusting.

A marbled polecat is particularly competitive and aggressive. Despite their small size, they’re not afraid to assert themselves and make it clear that other, bigger animals should just keep walking by. They’re fierce little hunters that kill their prey quickly and efficiently. They’re also pretty stubborn. Once you’ve crossed a marbled polecat soul, you’ve got to put a lot of work in to earn back their trust or respect. They’re not shy about sharing their thoughts, opinions, or criticisms, and are generally pretty my way or the highway. He tends to hit harder than he needs to in a verbal fight to make it clear he shouldn’t be fucked with, see: the scuffle with Bill or ripping into Web in Austria.

Joe’s daemon is named Gerda, and she enjoys nipping at other daemons for fun and to be an asshole. You can usually find her wrapped around his neck like a scarf when it’s cold, or jumping on very straight legs hissing and spitting at people who bother her.

( HBO War Daemon AU Masterlist )

[rosewatergrapefruit]

“

@sallycinnamons​ hehe okay. sorry this took forever I was like ‘ok if I post it I have to make double extra sure I’m satisfied with every song on there’ (special shout out to “Every Night” by THEE Paul McCartney, which I adore but decided was not right. It’s the only one I culled)

anyway HERE is a link to this playlist and below is a bit about why each song is on here or what gains the song entry to this playlist. Basically the organizing question is what does Love sound like to me, Mimi [REDACTED]? Like many great playlists it started as an informal shortlist in my head and I decided I really did want to keep track of them. You’ll notice maybe like I did after making the playlist that a lot of them are about someone you want to listen to or want to listen to you more than anything. clearly that’s the height of romance to me...

its not in any particular order, just how I added it. 

1. “Jesus, Etc.” - Wilco - “I’ll be around / You were right about the stars”

2. “Only for You” - Heartless Bastards - first song I ever felt sounded like love to me, would have been first song if I had not been actively listening to Wilco when I decided to pull the trigger 

3. “The Book I Read” - Talking Heads - “I’m embarrassed to admit it hit the soft spot it in my heart when / I found out you wrote the book I read” 

4. “Ask Me Why” - The Beatles - “I love you / ‘Cause you tell me things I want to know” also John’s cold voice sounds like hes cryinnnnggggg :)

5. “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)” - Talking Heads - as I mentioned earlier, often considered The love song in a catalogue characteristically devoid of them. Can’t pull out a lyric, all of them fit

6. “Ladies” - Fiona Apple - “Nobody can replace / anybody else / so it would be a shame to make it a competition”

7. “I Want You To Love Me” - Fiona Apple - Hey Guy Have You Heard This Song.

8. “Village Green” - The Kinks - ok this one is more getting at the fact that you can love a place so much, and also I always love how he goes back and sits with Daisy even though she’s married to the grocer. sometimes when you go to college out of state you form strong emotional connections with village pastorals okay?

9. “If I Needed Someone” - The Beatles - kind of incredibly blasé for a love song but thats why I love it I think?? It’s saying listen I don’t actually need anyone else but. If i did it would be you..

10. “Sugar on My Tongue” - Talking Heads - YAYYYYYYY BEING ALIVE IN A BODY AND HORNY FOR ANOTHER HUMANBEING IS BEAUTIFUL YAYYYYY LETS ALL HOLD HANDS

11. “Tim I Wish You Were Born a Girl” - Of Montreal - a repression enjoyer classic but its on here because he literally loves tim more than he knows how to think about. ok wow

12. “Concerto for Philodendron & Pothos” - Mort Garson - I have dreams about trying to orchestrate this one day and I’m giving the synth around :45 to a lone trumpet. That’s Love

13. “Nothing But Mine” - Billie Marten - “Be my friend / there is no other way to say it”

14. “Slide Away” - Oasis - “I dream of you / and all the things you said” & “Let me be the one to shine with you” & “We talk of growing old” NEED I GO ON? This one very recently has become an instant cry in the first ten seconds kind of song, which is nice. It deserves it

15. “Don’t Let Me Down” - The Beatles and Billy Prescott who is really quite crucial here - best John vocal of all time. Sorry. Don’t let me down please don’t let me down. Don’t let me down........

16. “Live Forever” - Oasis - “Maybe you’re the same as me / We see things they’ll never see” - man. man. man. man. man. yeah

17. “People Take Pictures of Each Other” - The Kinks - “People take pictures of each other / just to prove that they really existed” 

18. “Village Green Preservation Society” - The Kinks - “Aren’t they the same thing? Love and attention?” 

ok yay this was fun. If I ever add more songs I might come back to this post I really enjoy annotated lists