#because she realises her mother was there and refused to talk to her and just poofed away

[del-stars]

okay, but. imo sirius would not have walked onto the hogwarts express, picked out james potter, and said 'oh good, my parents will hate you.' he's eleven, and he hasn't been sorted into gryffindor yet - he's still very much in his parents' favor at this stage. baby sirius wants to do good and impress them; he's so sheltered that he's never even met someone who didn't uphold their beliefs. james is the first. i really think that being sorted into gryffindor broke baby sirius' heart, because he knows even then that it creates an irreversible divide between him and his mother. he befriends james not out of spite, but because he's james - he's nice, he's welcoming, and he's a kid. carelessly, james kicks his feet up on the bench, eats his food with his fingers, and lets his shirt go untucked. james is sirius' first taste of freedom, his first realisation that he can do things he isn't really supposed to, and still turn out a good person.

walburga comes to despise james potter not just because of his family's reputation, but because of the noticeable effect he has on sirius. it's like someone has taken her son and replaced him with a cheap copy: sirius burps at the dinner table, refuses to dress properly, and has started using foul language. worst of all, he writes to james. he talks of missing james. walburga has been desperate to get sirius back into her arms from the moment he left, because sirius is walburga's entire life, and it's becoming clear that sirius is destined for more. he's learning there is a life for him outside the walls of their house. sirius' existence is the culmination of her life purpose, and she is no longer her favourite person. she hates him for this.

the heartbreaking thing is sirius genuinely doesn't know why. he isn't trying to upset his mother, but he has to make friends, right? the slytherins won't talk to him, his cousins have shunned him, and he spends a lot of time around james. for a little while, he thought the gryffindor thing wouldn't be that big of a deal. parents are supposed to love their children regardless, right? this is where sirius begins to hate his mother, in turn: her love appears to be conditional. he seeks it from others, obsessively, to spite her.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [10]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.5k

Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.

Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"

Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.

The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."

Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."

With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"

Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."

"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."

That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"

Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."

The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."

Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."

Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."

Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.

He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.

Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.

His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.

However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.

Just go talk to her, you fool.

Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."

Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."

As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."

Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"

He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."

"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."

His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.

"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."

"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.

"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"

Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.

The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.

You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."

He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."

Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"

He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."

Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Finally, our first kiss.

Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"

He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.

Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.

Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.

"Your Majesty, please—"

The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."

Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.

This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.

Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.

Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.

"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.

Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."

As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."

That's... it?

Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"

All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.

Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."

She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."

Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.

Oh god, my life is over...

Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."

All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.

"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.

Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.

As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"

With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."

All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.

"P-please, have mercy!"

Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.

The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."

Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."

"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.

Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.

Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.

A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."

"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."

"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.

They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.

"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."

The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.

Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.

"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"

In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"

"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"

The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.

"Yes, sir!"

And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.

Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"

Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."

Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."

"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.

With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."

The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."

As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"

"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.

Just a bit more, and I'm free.

« Preview of Part 11 »

"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.

Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.

"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.

"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.

The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"

"Y-you—"

Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"

Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."

That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[randomnameless]

The fact that Jeralt's death in Hopes, when Sothis has supposedly has her memories, causes Sothis to try and take over Byleth's body to enact revenge for the death of her lover. It would mean that Relics are pseudo-bodies meant to trap the souls of Nabateans, but it could be fixed by Sothis if she takes them back into their care.

IIRC Sothis says in her battle lines that there will be a day of "reckoning" concerning the Relics...

But even by your theory, Sothis being pissed when her trash - i mean - Jerry dies still paints her in fucking bad light, because in this theory, she'd get control and trashtalk "her kid", but hey, given how much she cares about the Nabateans, I'd say that fits, in a really, horrible way.

Jerry > her children (including Billy?) in Nopes, and in Houses, given how CF unfolds it's just Billy > the world/her children when, by that time, she has all of her memories, including Zanado!

Nopes at least has Thales reveal the crest stones store the "essence" of Nabateans, we know Sothis' soul resides in hers, but what about the other Nabateans, who aren't as powerful? Are their "souls" in there, or is it just their power but their "sentience" disappeared, or are they just "souls" but like FMA's - they lost their mind and are just "energy" now?

Is she seeing Rhea's death as a temp thing, like putting her in time-out?

Given how her crest stone poofs away in Tru Piss, I'd say she wouldn't see it as a time-out but considers this death as final, granted, Nopes has every character be their worst selves to some extent, so a Sothis who gives even less fucks about her children would be right down this alley, but at this point between -10 and -15 her "worst" version from Nopes - regarding the nabateans - isn't that different from her "best" version in FE16...

Considering how Hopes says the Shadow Realm works and how it restored Edelgard's mind in Azure Gleam, this would mean Sothis remembering everything in Houses when she's there is a result of being there. If Sitri was simply Sothis, the new form giving her amnesia like what happens in reincarnation, this would also mean that Sothis also saw Byleth as the child they gave birth to there. The child they once gave their life for, and proceed to do so again. Byleth's Enlightened One/Nirvana state isn't just them fusing with the goddess, it's a symbol of a mother's love in a game that focuses so heavily dads. Byleth is the result of both Jeralt and Sothis, Jeralt giving them their martial skills while carrying on the teachings of Sothis unless Byleth rejects Sothis and ends up losing the state by shattering her heart as the Japanese puts it.

Though, this also comes with it's own issues. Sothis only saves Rhea if Byleth is very close to Rhea, otherwise Rhea dies. The fact that Jeralt's death in Hopes, when Sothis has supposedly has her memories, causes Sothis to try and take over Byleth's body to enact revenge for the death of her lover. It would mean that Relics are pseudo-bodies meant to trap the souls of Nabateans, but it could be fixed by Sothis if she takes them back into their care. It raises the question of what's the deal with Flayn having her mother's Crest Stone and Sothis initially thinking Flayn is just a new body for her. It also means Sothis is willing to help kill Rhea in Hopes, despite Rhea's death breaking her heart in Houses, though this means Shez has to go against their Agarthan nature which seems out of character considering they're meant to be an Asura in their own right. Is she seeing Rhea's death as a temp thing, like putting her in time-out? Considering the titles she gives her supposed children, does she see them as actual people she created with Byleth being the exception due to actually giving birth to them?

Hopes really did a number on Sothis with it's devs wanting to portray her as the terrifying monster the Agarthans saw her as.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Had a thought inspired by sub!Aegon being called a good boy combined with my idea that Aegon could be fixed if he just had a soft dom partner. Maybe he lashes out at a problem and just being a brat instead of saying his true feelings so they punish him (lightly no pain Bois been thought enough) and then coax him through explaining why he was upset.

I love how we have all come to the mutual conclusion that Aegon would just thrive on having a wife that doms him and cares for him and gives him not only love but also structure.

I think I'm gonna write this as Aegon's first punishment? Like he and his wife have finally had a talk and he's now hers fully, no more brothels and he goes to her for everything.

This ask is not at all NSFW until the very last paragraph, so just to safe I'll hide it under the cut anyway :))

Aegon has rules he has to follow, rules that only you and him know and he feels so incredibly good when he can go to you and tell you he's been a good boy all day. But of course, the rules are rules because they're not things he does naturally or easily.

One of the rules he has is not to allow his mother to get into his skin and cause him to yell at his small council. It's something Allicent is a specialist at, she'll come to Aegon before the council meeting starts and sow the seeds then already. She tells him of whatever problem she's going to bring up at the small council, and she tells him what she wants him to do.

Immediately Aegon breaks a rule. He's not supposed to entertain this. If his mother has something to raise at the small council. then she must raise it then. He's supposed to tell her to stop talking and that he'll only hear it at the council with everyone else. But he doesn't. He tries, but she talks over him and Aegon doesn't try to stop her again.

So he's already unsettled when the council meeting starts, because he knows he's broken a rule. You sit on his council, of course, you have the seat at his right hand. When you enter the room, you immediately know Aegon has done something wrong. Usually his eyes light up when he spots you, and he'll immediately jump up and pull your chair out for you.

(Sidenote: both Aegon and Aemond always try to pull their wives chairs out for them, but the difference is that while Aemond is all put together as he pulls your chair and stands next to it with perfect posture, Aegon is such a mess, practically tripping over his own feet to have an opportunity to do something for his wife.)

So when you walk in Aegon won't even meet your eyes? You know he must have broken a rule.

He's skittish throughout the meeting, snapping at his advisors, refusing to let anyone finish a full sentence and just generally being very grumpy and unhappy. Towards the end of the meeting, Allicent finally raises the point she raised with Aegon earlier.

She explains everything, and the table is pretty split on the idea. She then looks directly at Aegon and just waits, even raising her eyebrow when aegon was taking too long. It's then that you realise she must have told him everything beforehand and now expects him to agree with her.

When he hesitates, Allicent immediately launches into exactly why this plan is needed and the way she does it is just so... condescending? Like she's looking down on her own son.

Aegon snaps then, yelling at everyone to get out and saying he won't comment on Allicent's plan. When no one moves, he throws his glass of wine against the wall and shouts again for everyone to leave. That seemed to wake them all up, because they all got up and left the room. Allicent was the last to leave, and she was clearly lingering to try and speak to Aegon but Aegon just yells at her again and she leaves.

You, of course, stay right where you are. You don't even try to look like you're leaving. You know Aegon didnt mean you when he told everyone to get out but even if he did, you'd still stay because you knew he needed you.

But, he's now broken three rules. He let Allicent get into his head, he broke something in anger and he disrespected the other small council members.

You wait for him to start talking, and for a moment you actually think he might yell at you to leave too, but then he just kinda sighs and walks over to you. He pulls your chair out a little and then collapses across your lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. You hold him close, of course. Even when he's broken rules, you'd never deny him attention and touches.

You ask what happened, and you make sure your tone is firm enough that Aegon knows he can't get out of this one. After a minute of silence, Aegon softly retells the story of how Allicent came in and belittled him and got under his skin and how he didnt kick her out or refuse to hear it. He goes on to explain how stupid and small he felt when Allicent clearly expected him to agree with her in the meeting and he felt so bad and didnt know what he was supposed to do.

You give him a forehead kiss and a little squeeze, thanking him for his honesty and then taking him back to your shared quarters.

I think really boring, monotonous tasks would be the best punishment for Aegon? Ever since his brothel excursions he can't stand pain, and having to do something boring really does feel like torture for him. Sometimes you'll have him take every item of clothing out of your closet, refold it and put it back in, other times you make him write out lines or copy word for word all the words listed in a dictionary under a certain letter.

This time, you grab a broom and make him count every single one of the bristles. If he loses track, he has to start over.

Needless to say, he's not very happy about his punishment, but he doesn't complain. He already feels like such a bad husband a bad sub, so he'd never complain about what he has to do to become a good boy again.

You stay in the room with him, reading a book and glancing over at him every now and then. You'd never ever let him be alone while he completed his punishment.

Once he's finished, you smile at him and put your book down before opening your arms for him to come for cuddles. He jumps at the chance, just about tripping over his own feet in his haste to be in your arms. The moment he's there, he grips you tight and nuzzles his head against your neck.

You start out by asking him why he broke those rules, what stopped him from following them. Aegon struggles to find the words, until eventually he just says that Allicent makes him freeze and feel like a little kid again who can't make his own decisions. He explains further how overwhelmed and unsettled he was at the meeting and how that caused the outburst.

When he's finished explaining, you immediately give him a little squeeze and kiss his head and then both his cheeks, You remind him how much you love him and how utterly perfect he is for you and then you start to go over some ways you could possibly prevent him from breaking that rule again.

But most importantly, once that is done you give him a proper kiss and tell him that he's forgiven, he's okay again, he's till your good boy.

Of course this never fails to make him cry, but you expect that by now and know that the best thing you can do it just give him a little time to calm down while you hold him.

When he looks ups at you it's like you can see that a weight has been lifted off shoulders. Not only do you forgive him, but he forgives himself too.

And then of course you can't resist slipping a hand down his breeches and letting him come apart on your lap. He deserves it.

[dumbseee]

united in grief.

f1 au/fic: in which, you’re jules bianchi’s little sister. you’re the same age as charles and grew up with him, when jules passed away your world completely fell apart, and you left monaco for paris. eight years after jules’s death you finally decide to comeback to monaco to visit your old friend.

charles leclerc x bianchi!reader.

fc: madison beer.

warnings: mention of jules bianchi, grief, angst, fluff.

note: happy eighth heavenly birthday, jules, we will always love and remember you, champion 🤍

y/n just posted a story!

caption: missed you monaco 🤍

_

you really thought about going back for a while, you missed you life in monaco so much. all your friends were here, your family was here, even after jules’s death they stayed, but you couldn’t. every step you took in the luxurious city reminded you of your brother. his presence was everywhere. you were seventeen when you lost jules, he was your whole world, you always wished you were the one in that car. you left monaco for paris because you needed a fresh start in a new city where you could walk without feeling the people’s eyes on you. but a small part of your heart wondered if leaving monaco meant that you were abandoning jules too. he was buried there after all, his soul was now forever in monaco and you were leaving to run away from him.

but your parents reassured you, and told you to fly with your own wings, to find your way, that no matter what jules would be proud of you, and would follow you because he was now your guardian angel. that reassured you a lot since your worst fear was to disappoint him. but your parents were right, jules was an angel when he was still here, and he’s still one up there. so whenever you felt bad, defeated, sad, you knew jules was around you, that gave you the strength to stand up and stay strong. you had to, for your brother. to make him proud.

that’s why you decided to attend today’s race. the monaco grand prix, your brother’s home race. he loved that circuit so much because he knew his friends and family were watching him and cheering for him. you came back without telling anyone, but of course your mother had to tell pascale, so the elderly woman immediately called you to invite you to have lunch with her and lorenzo, her oldest son. you couldn’t say no, because you missed the leclerc, but also because you knew how much you leaving hurt them. you left without saying goodbye, it was too hard for you, so once jules’s funeral was over, you packed your bag and left.

pascale and lorenzo welcomed you with open arms and big smiles, the mother apologised for charles and arthur’s absence but they were busy. charles… you were glad he wasn’t here because you didn’t know how you’d be able to look him in the eye. "you should go to the grand prix with us." lorenzo had told you, with his usual warm smile. at first you refused, but after thinking it over you realised that you owned it to charles, you left him behind when he was also mourning. of course it was harder for you since he was your brother, but jules was everything to charles. his second older brother, he was also lorenzo’s best friend. you hated yourself for being such a selfish coward. guilt was eating you alive and lorenzo noticed it. "don’t be too hard on yourself y/n, jules isn’t going to be happy." he smiled and you had to fight back your tears.

so you came with the leclerc to charles’ home race, you knew that your presence would be the only talk in town and on the internet. "oh my god, y/n!" someone yelled from behind you and you smiled when you saw ‘little arthur’ like you called him back then. he ran to you and made you spin in his arms. you laughed and brushed his hair when he finally put you down. "look at you! where is my little boy?" you asked, still laughing. he flexed his muscles and flashed you a cocky smile before pascale came to hit him in the head. "where is charles?" she asked. "getting ready in the garage, he’s really nervous, i think you should go say hi." he told you. you immediately took a step back, you were nervous as hell too, but for different reasons than charles. what if he didn’t want to see you? what if seeing you ruin his race? what if-… "he still talks about you y/n, he misses you so much you have no idea." pascale chimes in, patting your shoulder.

you were in front of charles’ driver room, you knew that he was just behind it. you could hear voices inside which had to be charles and his teammate. you closed you eyes and knocked three times before waiting. a tall and tan man opened the door for you, he smiled at you and you recognised him as carlos sainz. "isa is waiting for me, see you on track charles." he told charles. "it’s nice seeing you here, y/n." you smiled and watched him go. you took a deep breath before walking into the room. your hands were sweaty and you didn’t know where to look. "y/n?" you haven’t heard his voice in nearly a decade, so him calling your name startled you. "h-…" you couldn’t even finish that charles had closed the gap between you, pulling you in his arms. his face was buried in your neck and his arms were hugging you tightly. you were completely frozen, you didn’t expect him to be that affectionate after what you did to him. "charles, i’m so sorry for leaving." tears were now rolling down your cheeks. he broke the hug and immediately wiped your tears.

"sorry for what?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. his hands rested on your shoulders, his touch soothing you. "i’m not mad at you for leaving, y/n. i just wished i was here with you to help you through the grieving process." he smiled and you looked at the ground. he was too good to you, you didn’t deserve it. "you lost jules too, i acted like i was the only one grieving, i didn’t realise the impact my brother had on people’s lives." charles gently kissed your forehead and stroked your cheek. "let’s talk about that later, let me enjoy your presence, you don’t know how much i missed you." he hugged you once again, and this time you wrapped your arms around him, savouring the moment. "my lucky charm is back in town." you couldn’t refrain your laugh at his cheesy comment.

_

"and charles leclerc wins the monaco grand prix for the first time in his career!" the whole stadium cheered for the monegasque meanwhile you couldn’t stop crying. he won. he won in monaco. it was his goal and he did it. pascale hugged you while cheering for her son, lorenzo and arthur ran to their brother. but you stayed in your seat, looking at him jumping everywhere and celebrating with his brothers and carlos. then, when he turned around to face your direction he did something that sent shivers all over your body. he pointed at you, then at his heart, and then at the sky. this was jules’s celebration every time he’d win something and you were there to support him. he honoured jules even when he finally fulfilled his dream. "jules, you are so loved." you muttered to yourself, looking up at the bright sky.

liked by charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, philippe_bianchi17 and 2 682 789 others.

y/n: coming back in monaco was hard, but i wanted to be here for charlie, i was scared at first because i knew that i handled my brother’s death terribly but in eight years i forgot how kind you were. i finally understood why jules loved you so much. congratulations on winning your first grand prix in monaco! i’m so proud of the man you became charles, i know that my brother is proud of you and will always look after you. je t’aime charlie ♥️

_

charles_leclerc: this one was for you, and of course jules, i’m so happy to have you back, je t’aime aussi ♥️

fan1: i can’t stop crying wtf

fan2: jules’ death affected everyone, even the people who never even met him, like me, he was such an angel

fan3: your brother is proud of you y/n! don’t be too hard on yourself!

fan4: we love you!

fan5: so happy to see you healthy!

fan6: man, this family suffered too much, i hope they’re happy now

fan7: charles and y/n relationship is so cute omg

fan8: the way he dedicated his win to the bianchi siblings 🥺

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty - Monaco Daniel

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

2.7K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Warnings: light smut, eating out, handcuffs, Daniels gorgeous nose being put to work

Series Masterlist

"I can't wait for you to meet Monaco Daniel."

He'd said it after she'd explored the entirety of the gorgeous apartment, had looked out onto the balcony and then put her bags in the room they would be sharing.

She was looking at the pictures on his walls when he walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on her shoulder.

"Who is Monaco Daniel?" She asked him, placing her hands on top of his.

Daniel moved his chin from her shoulder and whispered in her ear. It was enough to make her choke as she pulled away from him. "Monaco Daniel sounds..."

She had no response. Not because she didn't want Monaco Daniel. Quite the opposite. She wanted Monaco Daniel real bad. "Who are the friends who would look after the kids?" She asked.

"Max and Lando," he answered.

Y/N knew very little about Max and Lando. But Daniel trusted them, and that was enough for her. Plus, every time she had met them, they'd been friendly towards her. "Sounds brilliant," she said, turning to kiss him.

Daniel gave her a bit of time to shower, freshen up and change into something else. As soon as she was done, she walked out of the bedroom and got herself a glass of water.

"Milo, Olivia and I were thinking about going out for lunch," Daniel said to her, his arm settling around her waist.

All he wanted was to be near her. He was like a teenager in love again. Of course, he didn't notice the way that Milo refused to look at him, the way Milo looked down at his lap.

"Sounds great," said Y/N, leaning against him. "What're we thinking of getting?"

That was how the four of them found themselves walking around Monaco, looking for somewhere to eat. Daniel let the way, pointing things out of them as they went.

They sat in a café. Milo and Olivia got sandwiches and juice, and the adults got coffee's. "Hey Milo," Daniel called, wearing a grin. "Do you wanna walk the track after this?"

Milo looked up at Daniel. He'd seen the Monaco Grand Prix that year, had seen the other AlphaTauri crash into the wall. He didn't realise it wasn't Daniel, at first. It had panicked him slightly, until he saw the driver that wasn't Daniel climb out of the car, safe and sound.

Milo nodded his head, chewing on his lip. He finished his sandwich and looked towards his mother.

But it wasn't his mother who spoke to him next. "My daddy won the Monaco Grand Prix a few years ago," she said proudly.

"You did?" Y/N asked, turning her attention to Daniel.

Daniel grinned and nodded his head. "The year that Olivia was born. I had technical problems but I pushed that car over the finish line and brought home the seventh win of my career."

"That's incredible," she said, reaching for his hand under the table. "We definitely need to watch it, right Munchkin?" She asked, turning her attention to Milo.

Again, Milo just nodded.

After they had eaten, the four of them headed out of the café. Daniel let the way, walking them around the streets that made up the Monaco Grand Prix. He walked beside Milo the entire time, pointing things out and telling him facts and stories from the Grand Prix he'd taken part in.

Y/N could see what Daniel was trying to do. She just had to hope it was working. At first Milo nodded along to what Daniel was saying, not offering much in terms of conversation. But Daniel kept going, kept trying. He wasn't going to stop until Milo was talking to him.

And it worked. Soon, Milo was talking back to Daniel, asking him questions. Daniel pointed out the breaking zones and the two of them visibly slowed their steps before taking the corner. It was adorable.

"Are you excited to go to America with your dad, Olivia?" Y/N asked as she walked beside her.

Olivia nodded her head. "Yeah! Daddy said we could go to a ranch and go horse riding!"

"That's great, Livvy! Can you do me a favour and get your daddy to send me pictures? I'd love to see it," she replied.

Olivia looked up at her. "Can't you and Milo come with us?" She asked innocently.

Y/N gave her a grim smile. "I'm sorry, Liv," she said quietly, shortening her name even further. "But Milo and I need to get back home. We'll try to call you as often as we can," she promised.

"Can you guys come next time?"

"We'll try our best."

***

There was a knock on the apartment door. Daniel got up from the sofa and pulled it open, greeted with the faces of two of his best friends. He stepped to the side, letting Lando and Max walk into his apartment.

"Uncle Max!" Olivia cried, running towards her favourite uncle.

Immediately, Max picked her up. It lasted maybe two seconds before Olivia was back on the floor. "Hey Milo," Max called, waving across the room.

Lando stepped out from behind Max and opened his arms for Olivia. "You gonna come say hello to your Uncle Lando or what?" He asked, wearing a grin.

The hug Olivia gave Lando was less enthusiastic than the way she hugged Max. But she instantly broke out into giggles and gave Lando a proper greeting.

"Hey guys," Called Y/N as she walked out of the bedroom, putting in earrings.

Daniels breath caught in his throat. She was dressed in a red satin dress that fell to her knees. The material hugged her body. The neckline dropped slightly lower at her chest, but revealed nothing, and two thin straps went over her shoulders.

"Hi Y/N!" Both Max and Lando called across the room.

Her small heels clicked against the floor as she walked over to where Milo sat on the couch and crouched to his level. "Milo, munchkin," she began as she moved Rexy to one side. "Max is gonna take you and Olivia to go play with his cats. Would you like that?"

Milo picked up Rexy yet again. "Can I ask him about racing?" He asked.

"I'm sure you can, Munchkin," she said.

Taking his hand, she got Milo down from the sofa and walked him over to Max and Lando. "Hi, Mr Verstappen," he said. Milo immediately began showing off Rexy.

His mother turned to Lando. "Thanks for taking them," she said and leaned against the wall. "He's probably gonna spend the night asking you about racing."

"It's no worries, seriously," Lando replied. "He can have a go on our sim if he wants. You two just go have fun, you crazy kids," he said and grinned.

Lando and Max took the kids with them as they left Daniel's apartment. They said goodbye, Milo hugging his mother, and followed the F1 drivers away.

As soon as they were gone, Daniel turned his attention to her. His hands were on her hips, pressing her against the wall. "You look incredible," he whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Tempted to skip dinner and show you Monaco Daniel right here and now."

She leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "You know I can't wait to see Monaco Daniel. But lets get food first. For stamina and all that, you know?"

Daniel grinned. He stepped away from her, holding her hand and pulling her away from the wall. She followed her into the bedroom and sat her on the bed as he began getting dressed.

As soon as he was ready, they were heading out of the apartment. Daniel held her hand as he led her down to the parking garage. He pulled open the car door and held her hand as she climbed in. "Thank you, Danny," she said. He kissed her hand before letting go of her and shutting the car door.

Throughout their dinner, it was hard to concentrate on anything but each other. For Daniel it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way she pressed her leg against his in the rounded booth they shared. For her, it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way his hand gripped her thigh.

Daniel could hardly pull himself away from her to eat. He had no idea what he ordered, wouldn't be able to tell Max and Lando if they later asked. He was far more interested in her.

After the dinner, Daniel parked up near the beach. As he walked her across the beach, the waves crashed against the stones and pebbles. "Milo would love this," she said as she leaned against Daniel, looking out across the sea. "He'd sit here and draw the view."

"Tomorrow," said Daniel. "We'll bring them here tomorrow."

And suddenly, Y/N got an idea. She pulled away from him, pulled her phone from her bag and placed it on the ground as it softly played music. "Come on," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and began swaying. "Just like our first date."

Daniel was more than happy to move with her. His forehead was against hers and he kissed her as they moved. Soon the dancing stopped and they were kissing beneath the stars.

She pulled away from him and rested her head against his chest. "Take me home and introduce me to Monaco Daniel," she whispered.

Before she knew it they were driving back home at such a speed. A thrilled laugh ran through her as Daniel pulled into the parking garage. He parked quickly, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the car, up to his apartment.

"You're gonna love Monaco Daniel," he said as he rushed to unlock the apartment door. "Monaco Daniel is all about you."

As soon as he got them into the apartment, he kissed her. Her back was against the door and he kissed her as he pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

Monaco Daniel wasted in time and undressed her, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. It seemed unfair that he was still fully dressed as he led her into the bedroom. "Sit on the bed," he commanded, and she did just that.

Monaco Daniel stripped himself as he dug through his closet, looking for something. "Aha!" He called when he found what he was looking for, pulling a box forward from the back of the closet.

Daniel presented her with handcuffs. "Oh, so Monaco Daniel is kinky," she said, reaching forward to take the handcuffs off of him.

But Daniel held them just out of reach. "Whose wrists do you think these are going on, baby?" He asked, pocketing them. He reached back, unclipping her bra, and laid her on the bed.

He pulled her bra away from her body and dropped it to the floor. Daniel kissed her, raising her arms above her head, until her wrists were up by the headboard.

There was no protest as Daniel used his handcuffs to secure her to the bed. She tugged once, testing out the strength of the metal. She let out a satisfied hum when they held up.

Daniel kissed her again. He kissed down her body, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach, until he was where she needed him most. "Monaco Daniel is gonna eat you out until scream my name."

Monaco Daniel dove in. His hands were on her stomach as his tongue moved across her folds, pushing in.

She couldn't deny that she had thought about Daniel's nose before. At first she thought it was gorgeous. And she still did think it was gorgeous. But she couldn't wait to see it in use.

The moment his nose bumped against her clit, she let out an almost pornographic moan. "Holy shit," she cried as she tried to reach for his hair. But, fuck, the handcuffs held her back. She settled for gripping the headboard instead.

***

"Ugh, you beat me again!" Cried Lando as Olivia once again beat him in a video game. "How are you so good at this, Liv?"

"You're just really bad, uncle Lan," Olivia answered as she started another game.

In another room, Milo was asking Max any and all questions he had about being a racing driver. Max leaned against the counter as he cooked up something for the four of them to eat. He'd made the effort to go shopping to get something for Milo and Olivia to eat the minute Daniel texted him.

As Milo asked his questions, he had a piece of paper in front of him, drawing away. Max had opened his laptop in front of Milo, giving him a picture to draw.

"Do you wanna be a driver?" Max asked as he began plating things up.

Milo shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno," he answered. "I don't think my momma has the money for it."

Max gave a grim smile. "Well then, I guess you'll have to just watch me and Daniel race until you can join us on track."

"Really, Mr Verstappen? That would be so cool!"

Milo grabbed his colouring pencils from his bag and began to fill in the F1 car he was drawing with colour. Dark blue, just like the car Max drove.

He put the plates on the table, calling Lando and Olivia to sit and eat with them.

"My daddy said I could start karting soon," Olivia said as she ate. "Uncle Maxy, Uncle Lando, do you think you could come to my races?"

Lando nodded. "Are you gonna go karting too, Milo?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably not," he said.

The look Max sent Lando told him everything he needed to know. "Well, Olivia said it's your birthday in a few months," he said. "Maybe Max and I chip in, help you pay for karting as a birthday present."

"Really, uncle Lan?!" Olivia called excitedly. "That would be so cool!"

After they ate, Lando stuck on a movie while Max cleaned up. Full up, both kids found themselves nodding off as they watched the movie. Max and Lando made a decision to take them home. They gathered their things, put them into their bags and checked their phones.

Suddenly, Max's phone began ringing. He swiped his phone across the screen, silencing it before it woke up Milo or Olivia. "We're just about to take the kids back to yours."

"Don't!" Cried Daniel, his voice panicked. "We're having a little emergency here. Y/N and I will be by to pick the kids up in a little bit. Just keep them there!"

"What the hell is going on?" Max asked, his voice hurried. "Are you guys okay?"

They were, in fact, not okay. Y/N was still stuck to the headboard, her body sweaty. She had only just stopped shaking and Daniel was desperately searching for the key.

"Maybe we should have made sure we had it before sticking me to the bed," Y/N said. It was obvious now. She desperately pulled as Daniel searched through his closet.

"Fuck," he cried, digging through his things. But it was nowhere to be seen. "Shit, babe. I think we might have to find another way to get them off."

She looked up at the handcuffs. "Do you have a bread knife we can cut them off with?"

Suddenly Daniel was out of the bedroom, running towards the kitchen. He searched through his kitchen drawers, desperately searching for the serrated bread knife.

"AHA!"

Daniel ran back into the room. "Danny! Stop running with the knife!" She cried and he slowed down. "I can't have you stabbing yourself while I'm stuck here," she said.

Placing the knife between his teeth, Daniel crawled on top of her. He took the knife from between his teeth and instantly began cutting at the leather of the handcuffs. It was a good minute before the knife went through the leather.

But Daniel kept going, until the knife went all the way through and she pulled her hands apart.

The handcuffs were still around her wrists as she and Daniel rushed to get dressed. "We'll get them off later," he said as he threw a clean shirt towards her.

Together, she and Daniel rushed to the front door. But he stopped her before she could pull it open. "I love you," he said and kissed her.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Hi, i hope you don't mind if i request to combine 2 prompts in one scenario.

8. "There's so much pressure..."

12. "Come on, you'll be fine. First labour's take ages.

Scenario: a pregnant woman got kidnapped by her obsessive ex-boyfriend, went into labor and begged him to take her to the hospital because she can't be having the baby in his basement, but he refused. Go as wild and dark as you want.

Thanks 💌

Thanks for the request anon, this was delicious to write. Only prompt no.8 has been included as the other didn’t naturally fit in to wherever the hell this story went. I swear I have no control, these stories take on a life of their own. You said go wild and dark, so… 😈 Trigger warnings; kidnapping, vomit, blood, violence, mental instability, death (not mum or bubs dw), oh and of course fpreg & birth. Hope you like it

Chained

Libby’s eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for her vision to focus but when it did she realised nothing was familiar. The room was dimly lit, no natural light source, only a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Dark grey bricks formed each of the four walls and the floor below was concrete and rough. She was lying down, on old discoloured bedding on a rickety metal bed. Where the hell was she?! She tried to push herself upright, but she discovered one arm could not be moved. It was handcuffed to the bed!

“What the hell…” Libby muttered.

“Ah… you’re awake.” Came a voice from the shadows.

Stepping into the light Libby saw a man walk towards her. It was Scott, her ex boyfriend. He looked awful. She’d not seen him since they broke up 18 months ago. His hair had grown, now matted and unkept, dark circles hung beneath his eyes and his usually clean shaven chin now sported a severe and dishelved five o’clock shadow.

“…Scott? Where… where am I?” She asked confused and still a little bit groggy.

“You’re at home darling. I rescued you.”

Libby’s brain whirled into overdrive. She remembered going to a midwife appointment, it was her final check up before her due date, she finished the appointment and headed back to her car. She had stopped just before opening the door, hearing something behind her, and then…. everything went black.

“Rescued me?! From what?” Libby asked, managing to push herself to a sitting position with her one free hand.

“From making a mistake. Did you really think you could keep me away from my baby?” Scott drawled, his eyes staring hungrily at her pregnant stomach.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We broke up, I moved on. This isn’t your baby!”

Libby’s outburst was rewarded by a forceful smack across the face. The distinctive metallic taste of blood soon filled her mouth. She was shocked into silence.

“We were great together! We were happy; we were going to get married, have a family, and then… Brendon came along. Poisoning our relationship, turning you against me, stealing you for himself. No! I won’t let him take this away. I’ve brought you home baby… so we can be together.” Scott’s hand touched her bump and his eyes widened in glee. “Where we can be a family.”

This man was insane, Libby thought, realising the true danger of this situation. It was one thing having an ex that still held a candle towards you, but this was way beyond that. She knew Scott hadn’t taken the break up well, but since the split he’d clearly disappeared into a realm of utter delusion. The baby in her womb shifted, feeling the fear of its mother. Scott’s mouth twitched into an uncomfortable grin, feeling the child move. Libby daren’t say anything, it was clear he was unstable and there was no telling what might set him off.

“Rest up sweetie. I’ll get you some food, you must be hungry. Eating for two and all that.” Scott said cheerfully, removing his hand from her stomach and disappearing upstairs.

Libby looked down at her stomach and her handcuffed wrist. She didn’t feel hungry at all. Only nauseous.

~•~

Scott returned and brought her food. Libby didn’t say anything, didn’t move, too scared of accidentally provoking him. He left the tray of sandwiches and crisps on the side table next to the bed and disappeared upstairs, offering a firm “Eat” before he went.

Her memories had returned as she gradually came around from whatever drug Scott had administered. Brendon and Libby had decided to have a little trip away this weekend before the baby came. A baby-moon as they say. They’d told all their friends and family they’d be out of town and without signal for a few days, but this morning Brendon called to say he had a work emergency and they’d have to cancel. That was fine, Libby would just go visit her parents instead. Only she never got a chance to call her parents after the midwife appointment. Everyone thought her and Brendon were away, and Brendon thought she was at her parents - no one would realise she’d been kidnapped.

Her stomach rolled with fear. She needed to think, find a way out of here. Wherever “here” was…. Where the fuck had Scott taken her? She didn’t recognise the room, it could be anywhere. She looked over at the plate of food and her heart sank. She recognised the crockery - this was his family’s cabin, in the middle of the woods.

~•~

Days. She’d been there days. Her family and Brendon would hopefully know she was missing by now. But they’d never find her here.

Scott continued to visit, to bring her food, to talk the baby in her womb. He’d offered to bathe her once, disgusted by the thought she refused. When he tried to get more forceful, hitting her again, she faked practice labour pains and he thankfully left her alone to rest.

She barely spoke to him anymore, too fearful to say the wrong thing again, of which she had learnt the hard way. She tried once to play along with his delusion, that he had “rescued” her from Brendon and now they could be a family. Believing her, Scott eventually unlocked the handcuffs, but when she made a break for it towards the stairs of the basement Scott went ballistic. They got into a fight; she kicked and screamed and hit, but he was stronger and in the carnage she fell forward against the wooden stairs she was trying to climb.

Scott was stricter with the handcuffs after that. Libby swore to herself not to try it again for fear of what might happen to the baby if she fell again.

She had been feeling cramps ever since the fall. They weren’t too bad or debilitating, thankfully she wasn’t bleeding which Libby hoped was a good sign and that her baby was okay. The fall was a brutal reminder of the precious cargo she was carrying and she had to be careful.

The next night Libby was awoken by a forceful cramp rolling through her middle, much worse than any of the others she had felt. Curling round her stomach she breathed heavily through the wave until it passed, and she promptly fell back asleep.

It happened again shortly after, pulling her from her slumber and waking every cell of her body as it peaked, like a coil twisting tighter and tighter. She pushed herself up to sit on the bed. The room was pitch black - Scott controlled the lights and was the only way she knew if it was day or night. She rubbed the aching cramp rolling across her tightened belly with one hand, the other remaining chained to the bedpost. She wished she could move, to walk it off, but with the handcuffs and the darkness she had little options. Instead she got on her hands and knees and rocked steadily through the pain.

“Please be practice contractions…” she whispered to herself. “You can’t come now baby, you’re safe in there. Wait until we get outta here okay?”

The cramp eventually eased and after a few minutes waiting for the next, Libby let herself sink sideways back onto the bed. The baby had got the message, it was just practice pains, she thought to herself as she drifted back off to sleep.

~•~

The light to the basement flickered to life followed by the familiar stomping of feet on wooden steps.

“Morning sweetheart. How’s the mother of my child today?” Scott said in such a cheerful caring tone it caused a shiver to roll up Libby’s spine.

She glared at him from the bed, lying down under the covers half asleep and curled around her bump.

“Still not talking to me eh? Oh well. It won’t be long before I have a son or daughter to talk to.” Scott drawled, as he placed a cup of water and slice of toast onto the bedside table.

Another cramp squeezed her belly and Libby sucked in a breath, hissing through her teeth. She could feel her stomach hardening beneath her fingers as the practice contraction squeezed.

“Honey, are you alright?” Scott’s eyes pinched in cautious concern.

“Just a kick.” Libby said, schooling her face back to a neutral expression.

“Excited to meet their daddy no doubt.” He gleefully said making Libby feel sick.

This baby is NOT yours! She cried in her head.

“Get up and have some breakfast. I’ve got some things to show you today.” Scott said, offering a hand to help her up.

Libby ignored his hand and pushed herself upright. “What things?”

“All in good time my dear. It’s a surprise.” And with that he disappeared back upstairs with a gallop.

She could hear banging and thumping above her and wondered what on earth he was doing. Her stomach growled and she reluctantly nibbled on the toast that was provided. After eating she was left solely with her thoughts and the noises from upstairs. Plus the occasional cramps that continued to plague her. Sitting down became too frustrating and she managed to get herself to standing right beside the bed. Her arm was pulled uncomfortably far forward by the handcuffs, but at least it relieved the pressure in her hips.

The baby felt so low, like it was grinding on her pelvis. But she did feel like her breathing was better now. Libby tried to focus only on the positives and did not dwell enough to realise this meant the baby had dropped into position for birth.

She stayed standing as long as she could beside the bed, riding out the braxton hicks and swaying her hips side to side, but eventually her legs ached from the awkward position so she return to sit on the bed.

The practice contractions continued to wash over her whilst Scott was banging away upstairs. Libby was starting to get hot and sweaty and could barely sit still through them. She found herself biting her lips and humming through them, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. She didn’t want to attract Scott’s attention. She ended up back on all fours on the bed, one hand awkwardly attached to the bed while she rocked forwards and back through the rising waves. It was getting harder and harder to stay silent through these pains and it was getting more and more difficult to convince herself these were only practice contractions.

“Ohhhh… we had a deal baby. You have to s-stay in there…. It’s not s-safe…” Libby moaned quietly to her child, the pressure in her hips mounting with every contraction.

The sounds of movement from above made her panic. Scott was coming. Quickly, she moved from all fours and returned to her sitting position on the bed. Sitting down made everything worse - the heavily feeling of the baby so so low caused the pressure to spike. So much so she nearly threw up, gaging slightly at the same time Scott opened the basement door.

She could hear him huffing and puffing as he stomped every step, he was clearly struggling with something, and she saw the “surprise” before she saw him. It was a crib! Oh hell no, she thought to herself. There is no way my baby is being born here and it will never go in that thing.

“Darling…” he cooed as he got down to the basement “I got you something. Well, I got our baby something - a crib!” He said proudly as he placed it at the foot of the bed.

Libby didn’t say anything; saying something negative could earn her a slap, saying something positive he’d think she was up to something.

“Well?” He asked, clearly getting frustrated with her silence.

“It’s… nice.” She said timidly, he didn’t seem any calmer so she added “thank you.”

With that Scott broke into an unhinged smile. “Only the best for my baby. Made it myself!”

Libby felt the familiar tightening of another contraction approaching. Breathing steadily through her nose, she tried to keep any pain showing on her face.

“What do you think of the design?” He urged, unaware of the struggle happening inside Libby’s womb.

“Great.” She gritted out as calmly as she could.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Scott rushed upstairs leaving Libby alone for a minute.

The second he was out of sight her eyes scrunched and she panted erratically. Her hips were on fire, the baby sinking lower and lower. This was no false alarm, Libby finally admitted to herself.

Scott came bounding downstairs with a pile of baby clothes and blankets. “I also got these. I wasn’t sure if we were having a boy or a girl so got a selection of different clothes. And lots of blankets and toys. Everything we could possibly need.”

Libby couldn’t help it but she groaned loudly and curled over her contracting stomach.

“They’re not that bad!” Scott said, referring to the pile of clothes he’d now dumped into the crib.

“Ooooooh Scott….” Libby whimpered, the pain still barrelling through her body.

“Lib? What is it? What’s wrong?” He crouched down in front of her and placed a hand on her knee.

“I think… hooooo- I think I’m in labour. You have to take me to the hospital.” Libby pleaded.

“What? Oh no, you’re not fooling me again.” Scott recoiled away from her, and started pacing. “You- you tried that before remember. And then you tried to run away, to take my baby away! You were going to leave me Lib! No!! I’m not letting you out of my sight again. No way. No one else can have you. You and that baby are mine!”

“Scott… please. I’m having contractions… I need help… I need doctors…”

“No… I can’t. You’re just going to leave me again. I can’t lose you.” Scott shook his head, like he was trying to reorganise the thoughts inside. “You’re just pretending again, you’re not really having the baby, you’re just trying to escape. Well you can’t trick me twice. Nuh-uh. I’ll come back when you’ve stopped the act.”

“No! Scott!” Libby cried but the door slammed before she could say anything else.

~•~

Libby shouted and pleaded for 10 minutes straight after Scott went upstairs, but he never came back down. She stopped when her voice started to crack and when she thought she heard the front door slam.

This baby was coming and she was trapped - handcuffed to a bed in a basement in the middle of nowhere, the only person for miles was her crazy ex boyfriend who was convinced the baby was his.

Despite her wishful thinking, the contractions just kept on coming. It was as if accepting they were real had made them more frequent and stronger. There was no clock down here, she had no clue how often they struck, but Libby was aware of the gaps in between getting shorter.

Being in labour was bad enough but the fact she couldn’t move due to her restraints made everything a thousand time’s worse. In desperation she tried to squeeze her hand out the metal handcuff, twisting and pulling, but when it started to peel the skin off the back of her hand she screamed and gave up.

She couldn’t sit down anymore, the pain in her hips too great. All fours was bearable but her arms ached after too long. She tried squatting and kneeling against the headboard, standing and swaying beside the bed. Nothing helped. She felt like a caged animal; frustrated, angry, scared. All the while every contraction brought the baby closer and closer to being born, a fate she was trying desperately to avoid. She feared something might go wrong, and she was scared what would happen the moments after she delivered. Scott was clearly unstable, would he leave her here chained to the bed bleeding out and take away her baby?! She needed medical help, not only for the birth but for her best shot at escaping.

When Scott returned he found her on her knees beside the bed, slumped over the mattress and groaning heavily.

“You can stop this charade Libby! I’m not taking you anywhere!” Scott shouted from the steps of the basement.

“Mnnnghhh! It’s not a charade Scott! Oh god…. So much pressure….” Libby whimpered into the mattress, her knees widening instinctually.

“Come off it. You put on a good show but I know you’re faking it.”

Libby could only grunt, roaring against the building pressure between her thighs. An unmistakable splashing sound hit the concrete floor and she cried out. “My waters…. Hooo- I’m not - faking - it…” she panted and turned around to face him.

Scott’s face had paled and his eyebrows shot up. “Y-you really are in labour?”

“Yes,” Libby breathed, turning around awkwardly with the handcuffs and her large bump, sitting down heavily on the now-wet floor “please please take me to the hospital now.”

He didn’t say anything, instead he disappeared quickly back upstairs.

“Scott!!!” She cried out, worried he would just leave her there forever.

He returned a moment later carrying a plastic box. “It’s happening! Don’t worry darling, I have everything we need for our baby to be born.”

It’s not your baby!!!! Libby shouted in her head.

Sitting on the floor, one arm slung up over a shoulder stuck in the handcuffs, she rubbed her low and heavy stomach with the other as Scott began to unpack the box onto the table opposite.

“Towels. Gloves. Scissors. Clamps. Ooh more towels. Little sucker thing. Wow it’s got everything we need in here. Great Amazon find.” Scott commented as he rattled off everything inside the box.

Holy shit! He wants to deliver the baby here! Libby stopped breathing for a moment, panic squeezing at her heart. He was never going to let her go. She was never going to get her baby out of here before it was born.

“Scott… you can’t… be serious…” Libby said with strained breath.

“Shhhhh. It’s okay sweetie. I’ve done all the research, watched loads of videos. I know exactly what I’m doing and I will deliver our baby here.”

“But Scott I need a hospital, with nurses and medication.”

“No you don’t. Women birth babies every day. I’ve had months to prepare for this. It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be perfect.” Scott’s sinister smile chilled her resolve and another contraction struck before she could continue arguing.

He checked his watched and frowned. “You shouldn’t be having another contraction just yet.”

“I can’t hooooo control it!” Libby snipped.

“Oooo is this the part where you get all angry at me for doing this to you?” Scott joked with glee.

“You didn’t do this to me! This isn’t your baby Scott, please just let me go.”

“Don’t lie!!!!!” Scott shouted, an angry fire flashed briefly in his eyes and his fists clenched tight, but a second later the ire quickly disappeared. “You’re just scared, but it’s okay sweetie, I’m here and our baby will be fine.”

“Ohhh god…..” Libby grunted, the baby slipping lower and pressing against her cervix. She had to move, this position was unbearable, but her legs were useless during the raging contraction. She tried to push herself up, yanking her hands forward but the handcuff rattled and left her arm twisted backwards. “Mnnhhh- handcuffs…. Please undo the handcuffs…”

“You know I can’t do that Lib.” Scott said reluctantly.

“Please…. Mnghhhhh the baby…. I need to move. Can’t stay like this Scott…” Libby groaned and whimpered as the contraction peaked and gradually faded.

“I’m sorry honey, I can’t risk it. But let’s get you back onto the bed shall we, you’ll be much more comfortable there.”

The contraction had left her winded, Libby didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. But when Scott approached and went to help her up she managed to grit “Don’t touch me!” batting his advancing hands away.

“That’s gonna be difficult when I’m delivering our child.” Scott sarcastically replied.

Libby’s stomach rolled, not from a contraction but at the disgusting thought of Scott between her legs. Nausea bubbled inside, rising up her throat. She retched. “I think I’m gonna be sick…”

Scott jumped back as she dry heaved. “Erm…. I’ll get a bucket. Hang on.”

Libby struggled up to her knees, clinging sideways to the bed, and vomited all over the floor. The force of her stomach expelling its contents pushed the baby against her dilating cervix and towards the birth canal. She couldn’t stop herself from bearing down at the same time.

No no no… don’t push. Her brain cried but it wasn’t something she had control over.

By the time Scott returned with a bucket Libby had crawled back into the bed, leaving behind a puddle of amniotic fluid and vomit on the floor.

“Jeeze Libby, you’ve made a right mess. I’m glad we’re down here now, that would have been a nightmare to clean the carpets upstairs.”

“…water…” Libby panted, curled up on the bed and holding her hardened stomach, too exhausted to do anything other than bear through the labour pains tearing apart her body.

“Okay, sure.” Scott picked up the glass from the table and gently poured it into Libby’s dry mouth. “Everything will be okay Libby, our baby is nearly here.” He whispered, placing a grimy hand onto her bump and feeling the swell, his eyes hungrily lighting up as his fingers caressed the curve.

~•~

She was dying. This was how it would end; trapped in the dirty basement of her crazy ex boyfriend. She never got to meet her baby, or get married, never got to buy her own home, or travel the world. The pain was so much she could barely see. Curled up on the bed Libby groaned into the pillow as the latest contraction squeezed her body in on itself. She was vaguely aware of Scott flapping around the room, he was talking but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. The only thing she could focus on was the mass of the baby’s head sitting right behind her opening, and she was doing everything she could not to push.

The last few hours had been torture. She’d thrashed around the bed, screaming and begging to be freed, to be taken to the hospital. When transition hit she was brought back onto all fours, grunting and pushing without any semblance of control. Scott rubbed her back and encouraged her through it. She didn’t have the strength to bat him off but she did manage to aim her next round of vomiting onto his feet. And all the while Scott refused to unlock the handcuffs and she remained chained to the bed.

Now she was lying on her side over the covers, exhausted, her body completely and utterly drained. Her knees were curled up as much as she could, her bump squashed between her thighs and her breasts. The contractions were right on top of each other and she panted heavily through each one.

Don’t push! Don’t push! Don’t push! she told herself again and again.

“Right, the waters boiled, everything’s disinfected. Clamps and scissors ready. Towel, check. All we need now… is the baby…” Scott muttered, organising and reorganising the equipment.

Ever since the well-timed vomit, he had kept a grateful distance from Libby. He looked through all the toys and clothes in the crib, talking about all the things he would do with his child, trips they’d make, sports they’d play. He was in his own little world, Libby was just a background character.

Relentless contractions kept hitting her one after the other, she breathed as quietly as she could, tears leaking past her lashes from the effort it was taking not to push. She could feel the baby start to stretch her lips, the head inching further and further even without her active pushing. He’d removed her underwear not long after her waters had broken but her dress remained on her sweaty body, thankfully covering her lower half as she laid on the bed. Libby’s legs slightly parted of their own accord as the baby slipped lower. Still curled up on her side, the baby had a clear exit from its mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Scott was ignoring her when she was lying like this and it was the only position that didn’t make her scream. And yet it also proved to be aiding her delivery.

When the next contraction barrelled straight after its predecessor Libby found herself holding her breath and it was only when the burning feeling started that she realised she was pushing. But she couldn’t stop. Gasping another breath she pushed once more, the baby stretching her wider and wider. An involuntary grunt escaped the labouring mother and alerted Scott to her actions.

“Are you…. Libby - are you pushing?! Is it time?” Scott jumped and rushed over to the bed.

Libby curled further over, her face burying into the pillow, squashing her bump and raising her backside. She groaned long and deep as she pushed the baby further out.

“Oh babe, you can’t push like that! You need to get in the correction position for delivery.” Scott said assuredly with all the delusional confidence his “research” had given him.

He took her bent leg, rolling her over onto her back and she screamed. “Scott! No!” The pain was excruciating, her spine was being stabbed, the fire burning between her thighs. She needed to push but she couldn’t when he kept moving her body.

“You need to be in the right position. Come on now, I know what I’m doing.”

“Stop… I can’t… I need to push…” Libby grunted.

“Wait a minute darling, you’re not ready just yet.”

Scott pulled her up to a sitting position and pushed her back against the headboard, pointlessly fluffing the limp old pillows behind her. Her legs were dragged apart and knees were bent and he jumped onto the foot of the bed and looked up her dress.

“Oh my gosh I can see the head!!!” He squealed. He threw her dress up higher, creasing the fabric just below her baby bump, fully exposing Libby’s vagina and the oval shaped crown of the head.

“Push Libby! You can push now!” He urged.

“I’m not-having a contraction-” Libby panted, furious she had been moved into this ridiculous and torturous position. Nothing about it felt right to her body, she wanted to go back on her side, to kneel, squat, anything but this.

“Oh… erm… well on the next one then. Push. No wait, I forgot the equipment.” Scott bounced off the bed and collected all the sterilised equipment he’d been preparing in readiness. “Ha! All that excitement, nearly forgot these.” He placed the items next to him, by her feet. The metal scissors glinted as they caught the light.

A desperate idea began to form in her head, but a contraction soon swept over her and pulled her focus to the burning ring between her thighs.

“Yes!!! Go on Libby! Push!!!” Scott cried.

Curling forward Libby pushed, her body squeezing the baby lower, its head stretching her wider. She grabbed her thighs, gulped another breath, and pushed. The scissors caught the light again with the movement on the bed. If she could just grab them…

“It’s coming, keep it going honey!” Scott yelled and she could feel his trembling hand between her legs.

Libby huffed releasing the push. It was too much, it was too big…

“Come on baby, go again, you’re so close.” Scott urged.

“Hooo-hoooo- okay…. Here it comes….!!!!” Libby threw herself forward curling over her bump once more. With Scott’s focus on the crowning baby she quickly grabbed the scissors and hid them in the gathered fabric of her dress. She screamed as the baby reached a full crown. Panting frantically her body twitched as the baby stretched her so wide she thought she’d be torn in two. Then it slipped further and with a sudden wail the baby’s head was delivered.

“Wow! The heads out, my baby’s head is born.” Scott awed.

Leaning closer his hands trembled towards the newly born head sitting between her thighs. No! You are not touching my baby! Libby thought, and she grabbed the hidden scissors and plunged them straight into Scott’s neck as she released an animalistic maternal wail.

Scott’s eyes bulged out, roaring in agony as the sharp scissors pierced deep into his muscles. He jumped back, standing for the briefest second staring in horror at her, before collapsing to his knees. A drowning choked sound gargled his throat and when he pulled the scissors from his neck the jets of blood sprayed across the room.

Libby watched, in shock at what she’d just done, as Scott clutched his neck, choking and bleeding. After a few strangled seconds he collapsed face first on the ground.

“Oh my god… oh my god….” Libby trembled, adrenaline and fear pumping through every cell in her body. She had to get out of there.

Twisting awkwardly around, she held the handcuff steady with her free hand and pulled her other through the tiny gap. The skin ripped from her hand, the metal scraping bone, she yelled out in pain but didn’t stop pulling until her bloodied hand was free.

It was as if she had left her physical body, the pain a dull echo compared to the survival instinct to get out of this basement. “I’m gonna get you outta here…” she panted, putting a gentle hand over the baby’s head between her legs. She scrambled off the bed, legs bowed as she cupped the head, and rushed toward the stairs of the basement.

Libby was careful, her previous encounter with this wooden staircase not ending well, climbing wide legged step after step towards freedom. She barely made it halfway when she was struck by another contraction. Holding the head with one hand and gripping the bannister tight with the other, her body squatted as it tried to push.

“Mnghhhhhhh! Oohhhhhh hang on baby…. Mnghhhhhh…. Not yet.” She could feel herself pushing hard, the shoulders starting to press against her, itching to come out, but with a firm hand and heavy panting she made it through the contraction.

When she reached upstairs she was surprised how familiar it all was, Scott had taken her here once when they were dating. It wasn’t much, the furniture and decor were dated, but it was a nice family holiday home in a nice rural location. She shuddered when she thought of the secret prison that was hidden below her feet.

Being familiar with the property made her escape easier, she knew the layout and of course where he kept the keys - in the side dish by the fridge. Grabbing the car keys Libby headed for the door and threw it open. But the baby didn’t want to wait any longer.

She hung on to the doorframe for dear life as the raging contraction took hold. “No no no!!!! We’re so close mnnnnnghhhhhh!!!!” Her legs widened as she squatted, pushing uncontrollably against the wall of her hand that held the baby’s head. The shoulders were slipping through… she could feel them stretching… “Ohhh fuck!” She cried, desperately pushing and holding the baby in at the same time.

When the near constant contraction let up just the tiniest bit, Libby made a break for it and ran to the car, both hands between her legs cupping the emerging baby. Unlocking the car with the press of the button she threw open the back door and clambered inside. She quickly locked the door, scared that Scott would somehow still be coming after her, and when she heard the reassuring click of the locks she huffed an exhausted cry.

But the baby was coming, and it was coming now. On her hands and knees in the back seat Libby finally gave in to nature and pushed in earnest, grunting long and deep as the shoulders stretched and slipped out. Lifting up onto her knees to catch the infant she released a primal roar with the final push and the baby slipped into her bloodied hands.

“Ohhhhhh hey baby, it’s okay it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Libby cried, pulling the little boy to her chest. Wiping his face clear he gave a little cough and started crying, soon matched with the tears of his mother.

“We did baby, we got out.” Libby panted and cried, safe with her baby inside the locked car. After a few minutes she wrapped the baby up against her chest with the towel, umbilical cord still connecting mother and child, and she hesitantly opened the door and got into the drivers seat. Starting the engine, Libby drove herself and her new baby to safety.

[hibiscusseaart]

huge ass post with MadaTobi Babies

its finally done, its almost 1 am, I started at 7 pm

OK SO HERE THEY ARE

So a little lore and then I'm gonna introduce them.

As you may remember from my earlier post, Tobirama (they married when he was 19) after the marriage, decided to create a child to tie Madara to him and the village stronger just in case Madara would try to leave the village. He couldn't destroy the village if there's his kid running around, right?

So Tobirama started learning biology pretty early in their marriage + Itama (@oh-no-its-bird 's one) helped a lot too. Mito helped with the seals to make an incubator. Tobirama didn't want a surrogate mother just because he was afraid that Madara would get attached to the mother of his children and he didn’t want that (plus he's jealous but doesn't realise it 🤭).

He created some sort of very real transformation jutsu that would trick his body to think that he has ovaries and he'd get the eggs that way! But he couldn't keep uterus and ect for 9 months, plus this jutsu is HARD to keep on for very long periods of time. It's easier to make a few organs from chakra that could produce real eggs than a whole new system. Plus Tobirama really didn't want to get pregnant and he wasn't sure he wouldn't fuck up his own body. Tobirama, with as gray morale as his, could just scrap failed embryo and start anew. He can't do that with his own body.

Anyway, incubator it is!

At first he did all of that in secret, stealing Madara's sperm (that's... a thing now) for his first experiments while they had sex. (Tobirama fucking Madara real hard that he’d pass out after and then take samples) ANYWAY

So he announced about his plans when the first stable and pretty healthy embryo was ready.

The first baby, Motoko! The melanin quee. She got all of it. Nothing left for her brother or sister. Ofc she's not THAT dark skinned, but she is for an Uchiha who are mostly white as a paper in canon.

(Tobirama is 21 for reference)

Her name literally means "Experiment seed first". Tobirama named this project this way for secrecy if someone would overhear his talks with Itama and Mito. It’d be Uchiha clan head’s child so hush-hush.

The name meanings + kanji! Hope I got them right, I have no japanese knowledge

oh and there is flirting with past and time in general in this name so it might be Tobirama reminiscing his first timeline. Like Motoko didn't even EXIST before.

So when he presented the embryo to Madara and Hashirama, they were ecstatic of course.

Madara almost cried. Hashirama became a river of tears.

Madara never really hoped for his own children since he married Tobirama cuz, well, they're both men. Doesn't really work that way. But Tobirama made it work and Madara is in love all over again.

Madara refuses to leave their future baby for a long time, just looking at them in the incubator. But the baby doesn’t need much there so Tobirama makes him leave and live a life while they’re waiting when the kid is ready.

Oh and Madara was SO against the name that basically means “experiment seed 1”. But when Tobirama asked if he got smth better, he ran away to his compound and tried to find the PERFECT names. He got lost in so many variations and never really decided. So when the kid was “born” (Tobirama just… took her out of the incubator*) and medics checked her, Madara took her in his hands, started crying and while he was having “A moment” Tobirama wrote her name as Motoko, cuz they needed it for administration and Uchiha clan.

*come to think about it, wouldn’t it fuck up a kid a bit? i mean, children develop under pressure of their mother’s organs and they’re in tight position. maybe test tube kids don’t really like to be wrapped in cloth? as i know ppl do that with newborns to imitate feelings like they’re in the womb.

But this name also can be read as “Festival child” so its kinda cute? Madara def told her that that’s exactly what her name means. No seed 1.

Interesting thing, when Tobirama made the baby, he thought he’d make a boy first, a heir. But something went wrong and the kid developed to be a girl. Tobirama was confused why. But technically, the kid is a boy with XY chromosomes but bc of their development and being a genetic experiment something went wrong and they developed as a female (its a real thing btw).

In the long run it didn’t really matter except that Motoko can’t have her own kids bc of all hormonal weirdness. And I don’t think that Tobirama would figure all of that out. He’d think he made some mistake when choosing gender, but kid was born healthy after all. Ofc when they found out that Motoko can’t have kids Tobirama will blame himself, that he ruined his daughter’s life. But she’s would be ok, she had her little siblings growing up and other clan kids so she’s done babysitting.

Okay for her personality! I think she’s kinda like Shisui? Very happy kid, spoiled rotten by her uncles (Hashirama and Izuna compete who is THE BEST uncle) and Tou-san (Madara). Btw Tobirama refuses to be called Kaa-san or any motherly terms. He’s barely holding a kunai in his pockets when Madara calls him wife.

But she’s also very Uchiha with temper and protectiveness. She was trained to be very much Uchiha cuz she’s the future clan head so her jutsu’s are strongly fire natured. Oh and her secondary nature is eath! She took it from the Senju side :)

Good sensor, but not as strong as her other siblings. Have really good chakra reserves and vicious on the battlefield.

Surprisingly looks really like Madara and Izuna’s mom. Her face is all that. Has soft dark hair and soft features. Considered to be very beautiful among Uchihas.

Oh and as you can see, I wrote that she has the Mangekyo. She got it when she was around 14. She was already really strong and cuz of her family, she got cocky. So, you ask me, who died? I think it’d be her female teammate (maybe from Hatake clan? idk I take suggestions) who she was in love with.

So yeah, she got a reality check. Because she got Mangekyo, Tobirama didn’t want her baby to lose her sight, so he improved his own seals that helped him with his albinism. Seals improve his sight and protect from the sun. So he drew Motoko tattoos on her face, like his. Years later it’d be a new feature of the main line.

But before that, when Motoko is 12 and Tobirama is 29, after 8 years of research (and possibly sealing/killing Black Zetsu in the meantime) he decided to try to make another kid. He still wanted a boy.

And he was successful. Meet Akemori! The Music King

The name was suggested by Hashirama. It means “red forest”. Red eyes, plus he sensed that the kid has a bit of mokuton!

But on the downside, Akemori was born an albino. Tobirama himself was really lucky, cuz he had a strong health and I hc that he still has healing abilities, but not as strong as Hashirama’s. But it still helped him in his childhood.

Not for Akemori tho. He was a sickly child, almost blind and burned on the sun easily. Tobirama had to put seals on him when he was about 3 years old. But even then his eyesight was still poor. Seals can’t fix everything.

Tobirama, once again, feels guilty that he didn’t notice any mistakes when he was creating the child.

And being born almost blind in Uchiha clan of all people wasn’t really nice. Though he is still clan head’s child and has a whole bunch of very powerful adults to protect him. Plus his older sister who loves him very much and wants to protect him from any harm.

But because of health issues Akemori was never really trained in shinobi arts. Well, he was trained (his fathers are literally… them) just that he could protect himself, but no one expected him to go on missions or even become a shinobi at all. Uchiha elders treated him as a potential political marriage pawn (even though Madara and Tobirama would never let them do that). Akemori caught on that and never had the motivation to become a shinobi at all. He was offended and said that he’d NEVER become a shinobi.

Madara was a little mad at that, cuz they’re SHINOBI clan, what the hell. But he shut up the second Tobirama sent him The Look. Tobirama was ok with Akemori’s wishes, like his twin and himself are shinobi by necessity, but they finds more joy in research.

Akemori was trained in Mokuton by Hashirama of course, even though Senju elders bitched about him selling clan secrets to Uchiha. But Hokage does what he wants.

Akemori’s mokuton isn’t as strong as Hashirama’s, plus he never really wanted to fight. But he was good with plants so he joined Itama-oji in his research a lot! Especially since Hashirama is busy with Hokage stuff, Itama was delighted to get a new helper.

Akemori is also a really good sensor because, like Tobirama, he had to compensate his bad eyesight. Basically, Akemori is a very Tobirama’s kid.

Surprisingly, he awakened the Sharingan! He was 6 and some foreign ninja (prob Kumo) thought it’d be cool to steal a kid with the Sharingan. Because of his naturally red eyes Akemori got stolen. Ofc when Tobirama felt his kid out of Konoha bonds, he sounded the alarm in the whole Uchiha clan to check on their kids whereabouts and was first to chase the kidnappers.

Kumo nin were killed by a very mad Tobirama and bc of the stress Akemori awakened the Sharingan. It wasn’t much of a use for him, since he’s not a shinobi. But at least Uchihas acknowledge him as a fellow Uchiha and not just Tobirama’s carbon copy.

(btw noone outside immediate family actually KNOWS where the kids coming from. They don't see any pregnant women in the main line house or anyone in the clan with the same time who gave birth these days. Tobirama himself or god forbid Madara aren't ever seen pregnant. Where the fuck kids are coming from? Do they just spawn in the house or what)

(they basically do spawn)

Sharingan helps Akemori to actually see! At least he could see something and could read. But stll, its not really strong, cuz not trained enough.

Basically Akemori is a perfect mix between Senju and Uchiha with Sharingan and Mokuton, but he was nerfed by albinism.

Being almost blind boy who can navigate only with his sensing, doesn’t gives him much hobbies. Ofc he helps Itama and he studies plants and medicine a lot with him, but he still needs a hobby. Books don’t work for him, any type of handicrafts too cuz he can’t just use Sharingan all the time, his head hurts and sometimes he doesn't want to remember a whole book perfectly. He’s also not very interested in training as a hobby.

So in his tweens while Itama and he were traveling (with Uchiha escort (prob Motoko) just in case) to the near town for some medicine and plants, he noticed (heard) a group of musicians and he fell in love.

Itama immediately bought him an instrument (maybe Biwa?).

And now the second son of Uchiha Madara became a musician! Isn’t it fun. Elders are furious.

Madara was baffled but “You do you, son. When you learn, show us? Oh and maybe you can copy someone else’s playing, but be discreet. They may not like that you’d try to copy their music. Shinobi don’t really like when we copy their jutsus too”

With age he learned to play several instruments (I take suggestions on which ones). Some people even thought that he’s trained to become geisha (he's not, he's just a pretty boy who plays music for fun).

When he grow old enough, Itama started to give him weed for inspiration and to relax. Akemori is prone to quiet anxiety attacks after he was kidnapped.

Okay, the final kid. She was born 4 years later after Akemori.

Nari! The pout queen

Madara finally got to name his kid. Her name means “Calm, harmonic village”. Yeah he decided to name his kid after a village. It's still better than Konohamaru

And she’s the final kid, because Tobirama finally got it and produced a “normal” healthy kid. Plus he's not sure how many kids (3) and students (another 4 and Kagami) he can actually handle.

She has very Uchiha coloring, but Tobirama’s facial features. She also inherited his stare.

She’s the baby of the family, but she grew up slightly strict and serious cuz she stayed a lot with Tobirama, cuz he decided he won’t spend another maternity leave out of the Tower. The first two times were a disaster when he came back.

Tobirama left on maternity leaves just cuz he needed to monitor his kids health, especially Akemori’s. Idk about Konoha maternity leaves, but they should be really short, since well shinobi are needed all year long and they can’t wait for mother-shinobi to spend a whole year on that. Though on the other side, mothers need time to recover or they won’t be able to perform good on their missions (plus they probably have a milk smell lol). Who knows, maybe Tobirama was the one who drafted a law about at least one year maternity leave. He got very popular among kunoichi (can you believe that I just remembered that this word exists)

Nari is really like Izuna, but got her temper under control. Maybe think of teen Kakashi but without dead fathers and angst. But also brat.

Her chakra is water nature and she has 0 affinity with fire. Still she did produce great fireball as their traditions dictated, even though it took her many trials and errors. After that she decided that she hates traditions like that. Got really rebellious in her teens, about 13 and even tried to challenge her sister (25) for the clan head position. She didn’t win ofc and was bitter about it.

Also because her sister and brother both have seals, she always dreamed of the same, cuz as a baby she thought that it’s something special for their family. But Tobirama doesn’t think she needs them cuz her sight is perfect and her skin is pale, but it doesn’t burn like Akemori’s.

It triggered interest for seals in general cuz “FINE if you won’t give me seals, I’ll just make them myself!”

Tobirama was completely okay with it. He always strives to encourage kids when they want to learn something new. So he sicked her at Mito. Though his aunt was quite happy to teach her niece sealing art.

also idk why i write evil near her. she's just a brat. though she has the potential to become Azula ish

And that’s it!

I will write more about them later cuz im tired. I have some other ideas I wanna expand. Like Tobirama introducing his pups to his Hatake aunt (did i tell you that i LOVE Hatakes?),

Oh and fun little sketches close ups for a treat

i love this Hashirama with the kids, ugh he's so father

if you have any questions you can send them to my ask box!

[benedictscanvas]

hey love! im sorry your request box hasnt been what you were looking for but maybe this will work! can i request a ball with benedict bridgerton where feelings are only realized when one of them dances with someone else? i dont really mind if its reader or benedict but i just think it would be cute!! hope you’re doing well <3 <3

hello my lovely. you're the sweetest, thank you so much for such a gorgeous request. I've got a pretty similar fic where Benedict realises his feelings, so I was super excited to do the other way around, I hope you enjoy <3 <3 | 1.5k words, fem!reader

There is a woman in Benedict’s arms and it isn’t you and you think you might throw your lemonade at her. Accidentally, of course.

You don’t know her, and if the reasonable side of your brain was in charge, you’d probably think she looks quite lovely. Her hair is adorned in elaborate braids and her smile is demure but still a little goofy - she isn’t shrouded in the fake humility that she finds so many ladies of the ton carry around with them. 

But still you find yourself fantasising about a large lemonade stain painting the front of her dress, the poor girl hurrying away in her shock and distress.

Away from Benedict. Who’s now laughing. At something the girl has said, no less. Why, you’d never seen him laugh at any lady of the ton who wasn’t either his sister or, once, Lady Danbury.

And yourself, of course, but you didn’t count.

At least, you didn’t think you counted. You didn’t think you wanted to count, content to while away the balls and the promenades by Benedict’s side, sometimes Eloise’s, whispering about so-and-so’s hat or whats-his-name’s hair. He’d never asked you to dance, although you’d never wanted him to before. Now that he was dancing with someone for the first time you could recall, however, you could feel that changing very swiftly.

”You know, looking vexed in the corner isn’t likely to win you many adoring suitors, Miss Y/L/N.”

Eloise always knows just when to get on your nerves and she’s grinning at you slyly when you turn to face her, finally breaking the spell that Benedict and his new dance partner had placed on you.

”Since when have you believed that was my endeavour, dear Eloise?”

”Since you’ve spent the entire night glaring at pretty young Miss Pennyforth. It’s making you look rather jealous, to the untrained eye.”

You turn away from her, fixing your eyes on her brother yet again. They’re not talking anymore, just staring at each other as he twirls her again and again. Maybe it was better when they spoke after all, because now your stomach is twisting into something that does indeed feel a lot like jealousy.

”Yes, well, you know better than to think I’m jealous. Though I do seem to be in a foul mood.”

Eloise nods exaggeratedly, a pretend-sympathetic pout on her lips.

”Yes, you poor thing. And it obviously has nothing to do with the brother of mine that you can’t take your eyes off.”

You pointedly look at her again but she just dissolves into giggles at the look on your face.

”If you have a point, Eloise, I suggest you make it.”

”Oh, no point at all. Only that the one ball where Benedict decides not to stand with you and ruin his prospects all night, you seem to be very dour indeed. With no correlation, of course.”

You glower at her as best you can. You have the irritable feeling crawling out of your stomach through your throat that you might be about to cry, and you refuse to do so here, or to allow Eloise to think it’s her fault if you do.

”You run along and find Penelope or I shall tell your mother there’s a gentleman asking after you.”

She gaped at you, quite genuinely.

”You wouldn’t,” she murmured, but then promptly hurried away when you fixed her with a look that told her you most certainly would. It was a lie, because you could never bring yourself to do that to your friend, but it was a ruse that allowed to slip away from the ballroom.

You cast one last glance over your shoulder at Benedict to see him kissing the back of Miss Penny-something’s hand and your eyes began to sting.

- - -

There was a little bench hidden away to the left of the grand entrance, just dark enough to not be spotted by those near the carriages. You managed to shed a few tears in private, silent silly things, and you wiped them away angrily.

It was only Benedict. Quiet, mischievous, generous Benedict. He was creative and caring and could come up with the most brilliant insults you’d ever heard. Obviously, he also had a beautiful face, but you’d never given it much thought. All the Bridgertons were beautiful, it felt like a requirement.

”Did Lord Tennesby try to talk to you again?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes with your head bowed. Of course he’d find you. If anyone was likely to be looking for a quiet spot for a moment’s reprieve, it was him.

You wiped at your face in vain before looking up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile. 

“I’d be halfway back home if that was the case. What are you doing out here?”

Why aren’t you with Pennyfuzzy? was the unspoken second question that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to ask, knowing how spiteful it would come out. You wished you had realised you might want more from Benedict in the comfort of your own home, where you could take a week to process those feelings and prepare for how to deal with them.

Instead, you’d just have to see what happened in this conversation and go from there. Sounded promising.

”I was going to ask you the same thing. Have you…been crying?”

”I think it’s the flowers,” you point over at the hyacinths in the nearby flowerbed, “They often get the best of me this time of year.”

”Daphne’s ball last year was filled with hyacinths and you didn’t so much as sniffle.”

You frowned at him.

“I probably sniffled.”

“You didn’t. I would have noticed. I would have offered you a handkerchief like the dashing young gentleman I am.”

It was enough to pull up your frown at the corners, which in turn propelled him to take a seat beside you on the bench. You busied yourself with a crease in your dress when you talked to him.

“Maybe you’re not as dashing as you think.”

“I’m incredibly dashing,” he argued, pointing his chin upwards in that silly, mighty way you always giggled at, “I swept Miss Pennyforth off her feet just moments ago.”

Like an ice cold bucket of water poured right over you. You almost shivered.

“Ah, Miss Pennyforth. Has someone finally captured your wayward attention, Mister Bridgerton?”

You looked up at him and tried not to sniffle or snuffle or anything else that might give you away. He was just looking puzzled.

“What? No, I meant I quite literally swept her off her feet. I got the steps wrong, according to Eloise, who helped me up once she had a hold of her laughter.”

You blinked at him.

“You fell?”

“Into quite the heap. Miss Pennyforth was a good sport about it all but she did end up with a rather unfortunate lemonade stain all down the front of her dress. I think she was a little embarrassed.”

He had the decency to look a little embarrassed himself. There you had been, ready to hurl the contents of your cup at the girl and Benedict had solved your predicament for you. A twinge of guilt tugged at you.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you said honestly, face overtaken by a wry smirk since Benedict had not sat down singing her praises. Still you had to be sure, “She was looking a very good dancer before I left, I was afraid she might steal away my conversation partner.”

It ended up sounding far more transparent in your intentions than you’d hoped. But you held his eye contact defiantly when he grinned.

“I knew you missed me,” he said, smug, “I took one look at your face and I could see it plain as day. Really, you should have hidden it better.”

“I don’t enjoy these events and you know it, Benedict.”

Back to his first name and by the light in his eyes, he’d noticed the switch. He stood up and held out his arm for you.

“I know. I’m very grateful for it. Now come along, I’ve done my duty to my mother dancing with that girl and now I would like to do my duty to myself.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, not moving a muscle.

“I would like to make fun of the Featheringtons with my most cherished friend. Would you do me the honour?”

Something skipped inside your chest. Light and airy again, no longer weighed down and chained to something churning your stomach. His most cherished friend. Despite the evening’s revelations, that sounded heavenly.

“Is Eloise inside waiting for you then?” you can’t help but tease and he promptly puts his arm back by his side with a huff.

“You are intolerable. I’m going without you.”

“No - wait!” you laughed, following after him gleefully as he turned away from you and started walking. You managed to catch him on the stairs, threading your hand into the crook of his elbow with ease as you did.

The smile he sent you would take at least the next week to contemplate but you had time. You could be a very brilliant 'most cherished friend' for now.

(and you were far more cherished than you knew, of course, but he wasn't quite ready to tell you yet)

---

if you'd like to request something of your own, please see this post for characters I write for and two super brief guidelines. thank you for reading, sunflower <3

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (IV)

alexia putellas x sister

chapter I, II, III

sorry this took longer! have been very busy with work and uni for the past few days :)

~~~~~~

Aitana has been suspicious of something all week. I feel her eyes on me during training, when we're in the locker room, as she drives me home and as I walk up to my front door.

But she doesn't say anything and I am grateful. Because if she did say something, I don't think I would be able to answer without telling her every single thing on my mind.

Nobody wants that. Not me, not Aitana. Probably not Alexia either.

So instead, I sit in the midfielder's car quietly, only speaking when she prompts me to, although even that has slowed down over the past few days. She was confused the first time I told her I didn't want to stop for ice cream, and I was grateful that she didn't ask again.

"you're sure? You've never refused ice cream before, lena!"

All I could do was shake my head, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead.

I get home and I go straight to my room which is easy enough, considering Mami comes home from work late. I am supposed to be going to school, but Aitana doesn't know that and Mami doesn't know any different. She thinks I am there, and as long as I pick up the phone to my personal tutor in the evening, the school won't bother contacting my mother.

I shouldn't be skipping school, but I can't face going there and being asked all those questions about how great it is to be training in the first team, to finally have broken through into a squad that I would hopefully play with for most of my career.

But it isn't great, not really. My life has become a game of hide and seek, escaping rooms that my sister enters, too afraid to even face her.

I am not scared of her, more of what she will say. I am barely coping as it is and anything she says will just make it worse. It is best to just leave her alone, keep my distance.

And I think she thinks the same. She said she was going to take a step back, after all.

Not that is has been any different from before she took that step back. Her back was already against the wall, on the other side of the room from me. Any further and she would leave my life completely which does not seem possible, considering we play for the same club.

But I wish she wasn't so far away, I wish that I could just reach out and grab her attention, for her to know that I needed help without even having to ask.

And it hurts me, more than I'd like to admit, that her friends know exactly how to make me feel better, to make me feel valued, worthy. But she is just there, like a fly on the wall, always watching but never doing anything.

Even the more clueless ones have started to realise that things are not perfect between me and Alexia. We are never in the same room together, I leave training with Aitana every day. It is obvious, we all know it.

So they don't push us together. They don't talk about Alexia to me and they don't ask why we don't drive home together, why she isn't the first person to give me a hug if I score in training.

They don't want me to be compared to her any more than I already have been.

Because on top of all the personal issues, there is a lot of pressure, being her sister.

'Will Elena Putellas follow in her sister's footsteps?'

'The younger Putellas - set to be better than Alexia Putellas, but still hasn't come off the Barcelona bench.'

I've seen the articles, of course I have. Nobody ever mentions it though, nobody mentions the pressure I am under, the pressure I feel to live up to the expectations.

Of course I will not score as many goals as her, of course I will not make a debut at the end of the match like a midfielder often does. It is a lot harder for a centre back to come on as a last minute sub. It is harder for a centre back to score so many goals.

There are feasible reasons why they are saying these things, but none of the news sites think to explore those reasons, exclusively focusing on the negatives.

I don't bring it up because I think that if I mention something even slightly about my emotions, every single thing I feel will all come rushing out, a tsunami wave that will destroy everything I have worked towards.

I have to be strong; I can't let a little bit of pressure overcome me. Alexia had pressure, and she was never swallowed by it.

Alexia was not weak. I can not be weak.

But it feels like the tide has been pulled back, brewing in the deep dark depths of the ocean, preparing to build and build and build until it all becomes too much, until it is here, a huge wave ready to swallow me. Too late to escape, too late to stop it.

But quelling the wave does not seem like something I can do.

The only thing I can do about it is play my piano.

It is thing I am most grateful for, my piano that brings me closer to my father, the one thing I have that nobody else does.

I may not have his memories, but I don't think any memories could match the connection I feel, just sitting on his stool, my fingers dancing on the keys that his hands once graced, the keys that we used to play together.

It was the one thing that we shared, just the two of us. Something that neither of my sisters or my Mami could understand. All they know is to leave me be when I am playing the piano. I don't want to be interrupted and they don't want to face the wrath of my anger if I am stopped before I am finished.

Because it is the only way I can express my emotions and the emotions do not stop coming until the song is finished, until there is a puddle of tears in my lap, fed by the streams that track down my cheeks.

So they leave me be. I want them to leave me with my emotions when I play the piano. But they also leave me with my emotions when I sit in the lounge room, staring at a blank tv screen, staring out the window at just about nothing in particular. I wish they would realise that I don't always want to be left with my emotions.

I wish they could notice that something may be wrong, something more than just the loss of my sister.

Because it feels like more than that. I have never felt so lost in my life.

There is just so much going through my mind at any one time and I can't let it out because once I start I will not be able to stop until my walls have burst and I am nothing but an empty shell of who I was before.

Everything I once was is gone.

Replaced by confusion, hurt, sadness.

And I don't know why, because Alexia isn't all of me, football isn't all of me.

I know it shouldn't be but it feels like it is and even though Alba is right there as well, and Mami and my friends from La Masia, all I can think of is the fact that my older sister doesn't want to be my older sister any more.

And I can't stop thinking about what it could be like, if it was still what it used to be.

~~~~~~

I spend another two weeks wallowing in my confusingly overwhelming emotions before Mapi decides to intervene, intercepting me as I walk towards Aitana after training once again.

"No, you are coming with me today, pequena!"

I didn't even realise Mapi was here, her rehab finishes at the same time as Alexia, an hour before training ends.

She beams and throws her arm over my shoulder, ignoring my disgruntled expression.

"I will see you tomorrow, ABC." I murmer softly, but both Spaniards can hear it.

They both think I am too short to see the concerned look they throw at each other, but I notice it. I notice everything.

Mapi guides me out of the facilities and into her car and I can feel her concern grow as she inspects me from the drivers seat.

"You are not ok, Elena."

Her words are soft but understanding. It surprises me how she could just pick it up like that, I thought it was less obvious.

I thought it was less obvious because nobody has brought it up to me before.

I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything without crying, although at this point it feels inevitable.

"That's ok. It's ok to not be ok, you know?"

I nod and she continues.

"When you came over the other week, I told you to talk to someone, but I don't think you have, have you?"

I continue my vow of silence by shaking my head, my eyes concentrated on how my hands shake and fidget in my lap.

I am too concentrated on my hands to realise that my eyes have filled with tears, to realise that the first one has slipped out. I only notice when the fat tear lands with a splat on my thumb and I stare at it, my mind full of confusion and unfamiliarity.

I don't understand how I feel, because I feel sad, and angry. They are normal emotions, ones that I have always felt, just usually in a less aggressive and persistent way.

But I feel so... lost, isolated. I feel alone and that is something I am not familiar with, not at all. Usually, I would talk to Alexia about my anger and sadness, but this has been going on for so long, slowly chipping away at my self-confidence, at my happiness. Now all I can feel is the loss of someone. Someone so important.

I may be dramatic, but how else would I describe it? She decided she was too busy and threw me away, a piece of rubbish. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that it's all I am to Alexia?

We used to be so strong as a family, we were always there for each other, nobody left behind. But I can't help but feel like I have been, just a bit.

Mami and Alba love me, Mami and Alba are proud of me. But Mami gets home after I go to bed and Alba has her own life, her own friends. She doesn't need to be pulled back by her little sister who has lost the ability to deal with her own emotions.

It would not be fair for me to pile my problems with Alexia onto Alba. It would not be fair to make her pick a side.

Alexia could be the person that helps me. We have similar schedules, interests, personalities. She knew me like the back of her hand and I knew her equally as well. But I don't think I have ever felt so disconnected from her.

Mapi snaps me out of my daydreaming when she speaks again.

"It is not healthy to keep everything inside of you, pequena, so we are going to the beach and we are talking. I am going to force it out of you because I miss my bright little best friend."

She reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, awkwardly pulling me into a hug.

"Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok, Elena Putellas, because you have me."

I nod, leaning back into my chair and using my palms to wipe my eyes as Mapi turns the car on and begins to drive out of the carpark.

"Thank you, Mapi." It is a whisper, but she hears me loud and clear, offering me a watery smile before focusing her attention right back onto the road ahead.

The car is quiet as we drive to the beach, Mapi just humming along to her song.

Mapi has always been a big talker. She always says she finds silences uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly overwhelming, so she talks. She talks and talks at a speed that makes it practically impossible to register what she is saying, and the inability to comprehend her spoken thoughts is only heightened by the way she jumps from topic to topic, her voice only increasing in speed and excitement as she gets more and more carried away.

But she is Mapi, and Mapi always talks, so I got used to it, finding her chattiness endearing, she was fun, always happy.

Which is why it is so meaningful when she isn't speaking, like she knows that her words are fruitless and likely not particularly tasteful - they won't be received well.

She is silent as we walk down to the beach and as she lays her rug and pillows out, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down next to her.

She is quiet for a few moments, like she is debating within herself on what she should say and when she should say it, captivated by the way he waves crash onto the sand cyclically, the beaming rays of sun showering the crystal water, the first indicators of the imminent sunset.

When she speaks, it is slow and it is quiet. Her words hug me in a way that has been missed for so long, and I immediately soften; she would have noticed my shoulders relaxing underneath her arm.

"I remember when I first met you." Her eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on her face. "It was before I even joined Barcelona, at my third camp with Spain. I had heard about you before, from Alexia, I knew so much about you from how much she would gush about everything you did every time I spoke to her. In person, over text, she was obsessed with you and sometimes I didn't understand why it seemed like all she spoke about was her little 5 year old sister."

She chuckles, but I stay silent, still staring out at the ocean.

"But then I met you and I immediately understood why she wouldn't stop talking about you. You radiated this happiness, like a little sunbeam. Alexia got you from the barricade after a match, it was only my second ever appearance, but Alexia brought you right over to me and introduced us. You grabbed onto my leg and held it, almost yelling about how cool it was that there was another player to meet."

I smile. I have never heard this story before.

"And then the next time, you recognised me and I was so surprised, so happy. But you were also happy, Elena, you always were smiling, laughing. You would hang from your sisters shoulders and whack her on the back, swinging around in her arms and laughing so loudly that we could hear you from the other side of the pitch. You were always like that, every time I saw you. I found myself looking forward to spain camps even more, because I got to see little Elena Putellas with her big smile and cheeky personality. But recently, I think you have lost a bit of your spark because you do not seem as happy. You seem miserable, lena, and I want to help you find that spark again because I promise, it is not gone forever. It has just been buried so deep by all these emotions that are so big and overwhelming and you can't even find who you are anymore."

Her words strike a cord, and I find that my eyes fill with tears once more, but I do everything I do to hold them back as I speak. There is a long moment of silence as we both look out at the waves before I break it with a quiet inhalation.

"I am so scared, Mapi." My voice breaks but I continue anyway. "I don't know who I am anymore and it is so scary. I don't know what happened or where I went but one day I woke up and I was just a miserable shell of the person I was and I don't know what to do."

She is quick to pull me into a hug as the tears start falling because we both know that once I let out the first cry, I will not be able to stop. Her soft hands through my hair and calm words that flow through the small space we occupy will do nothing to calm the turmoil I am feeling on the inside.

Thinking about it only makes it worse, like I am shaking everything up so it rises to the surface instead of letting it lay undisturbed deep inside of me.

But Mapi's words were like stepping into a turbulent plane, shaking uncontrollably, fear falling over me and triggering emotions that I didn't even realise I had inside of me. The dirt hazes up the water until everything is a big whirlwind of confusion. Emotions moving around to quickly to capture them and try to understand them.

The things I want caught up in the whirlwind of unwelcome mess, the whirlwind that I can't seem to get myself out of.

The injured centre back whispers calm words of affirmation into my ear for a while, her hand stroking up and down my back. It keeps me down to earth, does not let me fall into the trap of a million emotions.

"We will find who you are again, Elena. I will always be here to help you. I am right here."

I want to tell her that I want my sisters to be there to help me. I want Alexia to come back and I want Alba to realise that there is something wrong. But neither of them were there like Mapi is. Alba has tried to be there for me, but she doesn't get it because I don't know what to say.

But all I do is cry in her arms. The sobs soften into quiet whimpers as the sun sets, casting a yellow glow over the beach, but we stay there even as the air becomes cooler and the sky becomes darker.

Mapi decides that I will not be going home that night, not trusting me to take proper care of herself and instead taking me back to her apartment again.

Ingrid is there this time, and she looks at her girlfriend with concern when we walk in, immediately noticing my red face and puffy eyes.

"Hey, Elena." She smiled at me, but I was preoccupied by the little black cat that had begun to circle my legs.

"We had a chat on the beach and decided that because her Mami isn't home, she would stay here the night again."

I picked up Bagheera, tickling under her chin as I sat down on the sofa, trying to ignore the wary glances that were being sent in my direction by the Spaniard and Norwegian.

"I don't know what to do."

Mapi's words were hushed, and by the way she immediately spoke more quietly when she saw my head whip towards them, it is clear that they were not for my ears.

But as I fiddle with Bagheera's fur, I dissect her words. More than I should and definitely more than she wants me to.

She doesn't know what to do with me. She doesn't know how to help, how to fix what has been broken.

She doesn't know whether she should talk to Alexia because it would break my trust. Because telling Alexia could just make it all so much worse.

I think I have been holding onto hope that she really is that clueless and is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. I try to hope that is the reason this has all happened, and not because she simply has forgotten about me, or because she doesn't want to be responsible for me any more.

But honestly, I think it is a mix of all of that. And I think it has evolved from guilt, not watching my games, wanting to avoid the awkward conversations that could have arisen if she had apologised to me.

I wish she knew that an apology would make all the difference. A sincere one, from her heart.

Unprovoked. Just her, being truly apologetic.

Because as humiliating as it is, I would do anything to be back in her arms. I would do anything to have my older sister back, I wish that she would just do something that would make this all go away, to pick up the pieces of my shattered insides and stitch them back together. Eventually, the stitches would dissolve, I would forget all about them and I would be able to function normally again.

But Alexia is not a surgeon, and she would not be able to do that stitching seamlessly. She would use glue, but even that won't put it all back together so perfectly.

There is no way for her to just put it back together and pretend it never happened, to move on like this was just a blip. Because I am different now, I have grown. She has missed so much of my early teenage years - the years that I have most needed her help.

But I am not even sure that Alexia wants that any more; I don't know if she wants to fix this all up and move on.

The dinner table is quiet as I pick at my meal, Mapi encouraging me to eat more than a few bites, claiming she won't leave until my plate has been cleaned up.

Ingrid doesn't utter a single word, instead her green eyes piercing through my skin. I feel exposed to Ingrid, as if she can read everything, understand everything, just from one simple glance.

It is ridiculous, but she is deep in thought so I don't say anything to her either.

It is only when Mapi opens her mouth again that Ingrid's eyes flick over to her girlfriend.

"Does Alba know you feel like this? Or your Mami?"

It is a simple question, but strikes a chord.

No, neither of them know. Neither of them have even noticed a change.

I shake my head roughly, and Ingrid releases a scoff.

I look up, offended.

"What?"

She turns her head to me, confused, so I continue.

"It is not my fault! It is not easy to talk about these things."

"No, no. Elena, that was not directed at you."

She seems apologetic so I have to believe her. I push my chair back, attempting to leave the room with a clutter, cursing my misty eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.

But me exit is not as seamless as I would have liked, and Mapi is standing right in front of me when I get up, wrapping her arms around me.

It is supposed to be to trap me, but Mapi's arms will never not be a comfort.

I immediately relax into her grip, sighing softly.

"I am so confused."

~~~~~~

Mapi's hands were running through my hair, my lap on the sofa as the tv played that evening. It had been an hour since dinner and the three of us had moved into the lounge room, the silence being filled by the Spanish show on the screen.

But there was a knock on the door and Ingrid sighed, standing up to open it, knowing that neither Mapi or I would get up.

It was both surprising and unsurprising to see Aitana standing there, her hair messy and over of her face, as if she had just been in bed.

"Is Mapi still awake?"

She didn't bother to greet Ingrid, clearly here for a reason. Why else would she have arrived at almost 11 at night.

I couldn't hear Ingrid's response, but I could hear Mapi speaking to me.

"She's worried about you too, Elena. You-"

I love Aitana, I always have.

"I know she is, she is terrible at hiding it. But she has avoided bringing it up. If she wanted me to talk to her I would try my best to, but she hasn't."

Again, I love Aitana and I know she has my best interests at heart. She knows I need to talk about everything to someone, but she also knows that I don't want to. She doesn't want to push even though I can tell she is worried. She is stressed.

Ingrid and Aitana enter as soon as I finish speaking, the Spaniard almost running to where I am lying, placing her hand on my cheek.

"You have been crying."

It is blunt, a bit surprising. I don't really know what to expect from Aitana, she has always been the light hearted one who never would shy from telling me how great I was, but we have never really spoken about melancholy emotions like these.

I suppose there has never really been a need to in the past, that is what Alexia and Alba were for.

She sits down on the floor in front of my face, her knees up to her chest as she stares at me, intensity in her eyes. It is not unlike the intensity she often displays on the pitch, motivated and passionate.

"I will help you." She is decisive. "We will fix this."

I nod softly and she runs her hand down my cheek.

"You are too young to be feeling like this, little Lena. I am sorry I let it get this far."

I look at her in confusion and she pauses before continuing.

"I knew something was wrong. I went to your games at La Masia."

I can tell Mapi is listening closer now.

"I know she didn't go to any."

Mapi gasps, quite loudly, and Aitana gives her a frustrated look, rolling her eyes softly.

"I should have said something to her. She doesn't realise how important you are, how lucky she is to have you."

I frown at her words.

"Lucky?"

It hasn't something I'd ever considered my sisters to be, having to look after a small child for most of their adolescence. Having to please me for so long.

"I used to dream of having a baby sister like you, she is lucky."

Mapi decides it is her turn to add something to the conversation.

"She loves you, Elena, she always has. Of course she thought she was lucky. She needed someone to help her pick on Alba."

There is suddenly a lump in my throat. I think it is the mention of the before that triggered it. The memories are too hard to handle, I usually avoid them at all costs.

My eyes become wet again, apparently, but Aitana just laughs softly.

"You two were just so mean to her, the poor thing."

Mapi lets out a chuckle from above me as well, and I find my mouth turning upwards into a smile.

"I probably should apologise now, shouldn't I?"

Aitana shakes her head, not able to hold back her laughs and Mapi is the same from where I can not see her.

It is when I finally laughed that I feel Mapi soften beneath me and see Aitana exhale a soft sigh of relief. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. I notice everything.

"We will fix this, ok?" Aitana was somewhat serious again, her hand patting my face. "We have a day off tomorrow, I will be here and we can all talk. We can all decide what to do next."

"Why are you two doing all this for me?"

Aitana sighs and Mapi's hands pause in my hair.

The midfielder looks above me, as if encouraging her to reply, but I speak up again before she can.

"Alexia is your captain, your teammate. She is your best friend, Mapi. Why are you doing so much for me when we are not speaking?"

There is another pause. It looks like Aitana is about to hit Mapi on the head, but the Spaniard speaks up before she can.

"Alexia has so many people behind her. Alexia is strong, she is experienced and she is older than you. You are just young, pequena and you are so lonely and lost. We want to help the both of you, but we need to help you first."

She pauses and Aitana finds the time to interject. It is like they have been talking about me.

Come to think of it, they probably have.

"You looked like you were going to burst. We knew that you and Alexia weren't speaking, that both of you were having a hard time because of it. But Elena, you looked destroyed. We couldn't leave you to your own devices any more. And Elena, we are doing this because we love you. So, so much."

"Alexia loves you too. More than us. She just does not do a great job of showing it, that's all."

I sigh softly, falling backwards into Mapi's lap, wondering just what I have done to deserve this.

How luckyI am to have my older sisters friends there looking out for me.

Because my family was falling apart and it was my fault. I couldn't do everything alone.

I choose not to think about what would happen if Mapi and Aitana weren't here like they are.

A tear slips down my face again, but this time it is not so sad. It is full of emotion, a grateful tear. Not quite happy, but not sad either.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed :)

this chapter was more to gauge where elena is at, sorry if it was boring!

part V

[kyseya]

The octopus

The octopus-hybrid Octavious

This octopus hybrid was born in the large aquarium he called home. It’s all he’s ever known. Despite the vast variation in plants and spacious tank he lives in having been built with an octopus’s natural habitat in mind, he has no clue how it is in the real ocean. Is it the same? Or is it much different. He wouldn’t know.

However, he can’t help but wonder. Sometimes he catches himself drifting off to somewhat macabre scenarios in his mind. He’ll think about whether he would be able to survive in the sea as he is now, or would he easily get eaten by a much larger predator. He tries not to delve into the latter scenario.

As octopuses are mostly solitary creatures the aquarium decided to put him in a tank of his own. From what he can recall(and heard from the workers of the aquarium) he has many siblings- none he was close to of course. They were taken to other facilities right after hatching. Perhaps they also sit in a watery tank contemplating their existence. Or maybe they’re dead. Octavious can say for sure that his mother is dead though. When an octopus female lays eggs, she stops eating and dedicates the rest of her life to protect her eggs.

Octavious doesn’t let that fact rule his life however. Just like with his siblings, he didn’t ever get to know any of them.

In the first years of his life he never found the solidarity uncomfortable. It was quite the opposite. He enjoyed his alone time. He was fed and he was safe, that’s what mattered the most. Too bad he’s the aquariums only octopus hybrid. The visitors often want to take a look at him and get impatient whenever he doesn’t show himself. He wish he could ask them how they would feel about getting gawked at everyday. If that were the case, they would also hide away in their privat cave.

He really, really disliked the humans pressing their face to the glass, trying to sneak a peek at him. He’d probably say he has an antagonistic view of every human.

That is, before he met you. You were one of the new caretakers hired by the zoo and that was obvious by how you messed up and clumsily moved about in the beginning. At forst he believed you to be another annoying human but you proved him wrong. You were so kind and patient. You never got mad when he refused to show himself whenever it was feeding time. You never tried to force him to interact with the visitors.

It took a while before he felt ready to talk to you. He had imagined you frowning and scurrying away because of how he ignored you during all you previous encounters. But you didn’t. Instead you smiled and greeted him cheerfully. The two of you spoke every chance you got and slowly you scene an irreplaceable part of his life.

He realised he didn’t simply like you as a caretaker or a mere friend; he wanted more. He wanted to be your mate.

He understands that there is a whole ‘you live on land and he lives in water’- thing but he is able to stay above the surface for a certain amount of time, plus he also has his own private cave only he can access. It’s above water so you can be there and be completely fine. It’s not a big problem.

Octavious often dreams about you staying in his cave with him. You could talk forever without anyone interrupting and you could cuddle and play to your hearts extent. There would be no one to take away your attention from him. Being someone who usually shies in the opposite direction of attention, this is really confusing him.

But he doesn’t mind it, no. He loves you after all! Octavious will do anything to be your only mate.

[cressidagrey]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 2

Summary: 

Shadowsingers were made, not born. Made out of trauma and loneliness and desperation.

So when Cilla and Azriel meet and their shadows entwine, they both meet the only other person that could understand these particular childhood scars.

The last thing Azriel had ever expected from his mate, however, was for her to have a surprising connection to his brother.

Warnings: 

Definetly NSFW, Mentions of Child abuse and neglect, really bad self image, definitely not why one should cement the mating bond, Azriel is kinda an idiot who is so happy that he has found his mate that he doesn't question things

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Cilla wasn’t the name she was born with. 

She had no clue what name her mother would have picked for her if she hadn’t died. Maybe she had a name picked out before during her pregnancy. When she hadn’t known that Cilla would rip her apart from the inside out on her way into the world. Who knew? Not Cilla. 

Cilla wasn’t the name she was born with. 

Cilla wasn’t what she grew up being called. 

That ran the gamut of “half-breed abomination” to “bastard” to “useless bitch”. (And some more that she didn’t want to remember. Her grandmother had been quite inventive…though she would never forget the shrieks of “murderer”)

Cilla…Cilla was the name her shadows picked out for her. 

Cilla was a name she…used, because a name should be given to a baby by somebody that loved them, and the shadows were the only thing in her life that loved her. So Cilla it was. 

These shadows…they were the only thing keeping her alive these days. 

Had been, for years. 

She could still remember the day they had come to her…When she had laid in that tiny little attic, where she couldn’t even stand straight, her wings bound to her back…how they had come to her and had twirled around her…how they had started talking to her…so many voices at the start, until she had managed to pick out just one. 

They were hers. Hers and hers alone. 

And she had learned to hide them away, in the black curls of her hair, so that nobody could see them. 

Even after she had escaped that attic…after she had started working in the tannery. 

Her wings already set her apart. No need to add to that…the wings already made some people look at her like something was wrong with her, not helped by the pointy ears. 

She hated these wings. They had killed her mother. They were the reason for seemingly every single problem she had had. If she didn’t have them…if she didn’t have them, her mother would still be alive, and her grandmother wouldn’t have hated her and…

And still, after she had left that attic and these wings had no longer been bound to her back…after she had learned not to drag them over the floor because people stepped on them and that hurt and she had figured how to heft them up…After all of that…something inside her had suddenly starting to yearn to fly. 

She had no fucking clue where it had come from…if it was some…dormant…illyrian thing that had decided to rear its head. 

Cilla had refused for years. 

Even when the shadows had repeatedly assured her that it was fine…that nothing bad would happen if she did fly. 

Look, even the High Lord does it! the shadows had assured her. 

Good for him. His wings hadn’t killed anybody, probably. 

Until finally…finally, she had given in. Only to realise quite quickly that she had absolutely no talent for flying. But by then, Cilla was furious. These wings were useless and had murdered her mother. At the very least they could make her fly. 

And so when she finally had a half day at work…she tried again. And failed again. And tried again…and failed again…and tried again. 

She had been trying again that day…and had once again failed. 

When she plummeted towards the ground, her last thought with some amusement had been that if she died like that, what wild animal would rip apart her carcass? 

She wasn’t scared of death. Why should she? It couldn’t be worse than her life. She had spent so long fighting every day for simple survival…that she was often so very tired of it. If she died...it was fine. She didn't really care, to be honest. 

She had expected death. She had not expected to wake up, wrapped in warmth and blankets, the smell of cedars and cold and winter in her nose. It smelled so good that she wanted to roll around in it. 

“It’s alright,” a gentle voice told her. Dark, male…beautiful. She wanted to listen to whatever he said…even when she didn’t know him. Who was he? “Can you open your eyes for me, Cilla?” he requested and she forced one eye open.  “There you go. Good, Sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Nobody ever called her sweetheart. Who was he? 

Her vision cleared. 

A male. Black hair, hazel eyes. She didn’t know him. Even hunkered down next to her…he was massive. If he wanted to hurt her, she was going to have absolutely no chance against him. None whatsoever. 

And then just as suddenly, something inside her snapped. She couldn’t explain it. She only knew that suddenly…her world narrowed down onto him and only him. 

He was…

She needed to touch him. She didn’t know why, she only knew that she needed to touch him. 

One hand reached out…and then was caught by shadows. 

But it wasn’t her shadows. Weren’t…

His shadows, Cilla’s shadows whispered. His shadows? 

He had shadows? He had…She wasn’t…She had never met another fae that had…shadows that talked to them like she did. But then she had also never mentioned it to another person…hadn’t dared. She had expected somebody else to tell her that she was insane, not quite right in the head…

“You…You’re just like me,” Cilla whispered, her voice breaking. 

He was like her. She had never met another who was like her. There were only rarely fairies that she met that had her wings, or something similar to it. Half Ilyrian, one of the female in the tannery had sneered at her. Better than Lesser Bred Mogrel as her grandmother had used to say. 

She hadn’t thought that she ever would find somebody that was like her. 

“I am,” he agreed softly, mustering her with hazel green eyes. 

He promised not to hurt you. His shadows voiched for him, her shadows cooed softly. He’s safe, we swear. 

Safe? 

She never had anybody that was safe. She never had anybody who…who wanted her around…who…

He’s your mate, Cilla, her shadows told her drily. That’s what you felt snap. It’s the Mating Bond. 

Wha…What? 

“Mate?” she breathed out, staring at the male before her. He was her mate? Her mate? 

A jerky nod came from him as he watched her, hesitantly. Like he imagined she would try to take off his head for this. Even when all Cilla wanted was to wrap herself around him and never let go. 

Mate. Her mate. 

She couldn’t stop herself from throwing herself at him and he caught her, pulling her against a broad and solid chest, a chuckle coming from him, the sound beautiful.

“I am your mate,” he agreed with her, as he cradled her in his arms and she pressed her face against his chest, breathing cedar and morning mist and him. 

Safe, her shadows cooed and she relaxed against him. 

Mate. Her mate. 

He pressed his lips against her hair and she curled her hands in the shirt he wore, even as he shifted. 

“Let’s get you back under the blankets. You are still icy,“ he said softly.

She just clung tighter to him, unwilling to let him go. 

He seemed to read her mind as he shifted both of them, tucking a heap of blankets around her.

“Shhh, I won’t go anywhere, sweetheart,“ he shushed her. “Nothing could get me away from you right now,“ he promised her and she couldn’t help but tremble against him. 

“What…” she whispered, hesitating. Of course, Cilla hesitated. She had every reason to be wary, even with her shadow’s promise…even with the Mating Bond between them…

He was…he was so happy. So pleased. She could nearly taste how happy he was about her. 

She couldn’t even remember the last time anybody was happy to see her.  

“You can ask me anything,” he promised her immediately, fiercely. “Anything.”

“What’s your name?” Cilla dared to ask, as he tucked the blankets tighter around her, still letting her rest against his chest, letting her hide her head there. No reason to face him. Not like that. 

“Azriel. My name is Azriel,” he answered, his voice soft. “Your shadows said your name is Cilla?”

She managed a shaky nod, just as one broad hand gently tipped up her chin and she watched hazel eyes as he probed around her temple. She couldn’t help but flinch against his hands, feeling tenderness. 

“How is your head?” he asked her.  “You hit it against a rock when you fell down.” His hand once again came into her field of vision. Only then die she realise…His hands were…scarred. Horribly scarred. Looking worse than even her back did. 

“Fine. Doesn’t hurt,” she managed to bring out, her voice still hoarse. 

He fixed her with a look, his gaze serious, even as that scarred hand came up to cup her cheek, shaking slightly, and she leaned into his touch…leaned into his warmth. 

“Just tender?” he checked and she nodded. But even that…if Cilla could have his thumb smooth over her cheekbone like he did…she would gladly take that. 

“I never thought I would get to meet you,” Azriel said softly. 

She swallowed. 

“I always thought mates were for better people than me,” Cilla admitted. Not her. Not with the kind of taint that had covered her since the day she had been born. She didn’t think that she was good enough to deserve a mate. To deserve him. 

To deserve a male that was so gentle with her, so kind. 

Azriel’s face crumbled, as he crushed her against his chest and she breathed in his scent, calming something deep, deep inside her. 

She really would give everything to roll around in his scent. 

Like this, she did the next best thing and buried her nose in the crook of his neck, right next to where she could feel his heartbeat and his blood rush underneath his skin. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Azriel choked out as he held her, arms wrapped around her. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

Worry about what? About her not deserving him? 

But these thoughts fled her head anyway…when she dragged in another breath and his scent enveloped her. 

Safe. All about his scent made her feel safe. Safe and taken care off. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt like that. Had she ever felt like that? 

No, the shadows whispered. He’s your mate. His instincts are primed. If you’ll let him, he’ll take care off you. 

“Will you…will you stay with me?” Cilla asked him, hating how childish her voice sounded to her own ears, how it shook. But she didn’t want him to leave her. Didn’t want him to leave her alone and go away and…

“I’ll stay with you until you tell me to go away,” he promised her, and something inside Cilla eased at that. 

He would be there, with her…and she could feel…safe. 

She felt the warmth his body seemingly radiated just for her and pressed even tighter to his chest, in response, still breathing in his scent. It was nearly drugging her, that scent…making tension leave her body, made that always present knot in her stomach unfurl…He dipped his head down to her forehead, pressing his lips to it. Cilla needed a moment to parse it until she understood that he was kissing her. 

Food. She was supposed to give him food. Right? That's what she was supposed to be once she found her mate. 

You’ll trigger the Mating Frenzy, the shadows warned her. She knew that. Well, kinda. 

Cilla didn’t care. Even when her knowledge of what exactly happened during it was…fragmented. Nobody had ever talked to her about it and she had nobody to ask, so all she knew was the stuff that she had…snapped up. 

She still hadn’t figured out what her landlord meant when he told her that she could earn the rest of her rent on her knees though. 

You will never take him up on that, her shadows hissed.  

She wasn’t planning on that. That glint of something in her landlord's eyes as he had said it had scared her. 

You’ll trigger the Mating Frenzy and your mate will be pushed to consummate the Mating Bond, her shadows said quickly. He’ll…fuck you. 

Fuck her. 

Not that she had much experience with that either. Though if some of the conversations she had overheard meant anything, it was seemingly everybody’s favourite pastime. 

So it couldn’t be that bad, right? 

She didn’t think he would be outright cruel to her. He touched her with more gentleness than she ever had anybody else touch her…

And if it meant that he would stay with her forever, then…

Food, she needed food. 

It wasn’t her shadows that pressed a dry cracker in her hand…it was his. Somehow she knew that. They looked identical, but somehow Cilla still knew. 

Still, she took that cracker, as she sat up slightly, his arms immediately loosening around hers. She lifted it to his mouth. “Eat?” she requested, her voice shaking. She half expected him to turn her down, to laugh at her even thinking that he wanted to bind himself to her…

Instead, his eyes widened and he stared at her in wonder. 

“Are you…are you sure?” he asked her, his voice hoarse. 

She nodded. 

Yes, she was sure. 

Sure, because for the first time in her life, there was somebody there that wanted her. 

He ate. 

A dam broke. 

When before that thread that connected them had felt fledgling and like she could ignore his feelings, far removed from her… Suddenly it roared to life. 

that dam broke and all she could do was to cling to him as he pressed his lips to her forehead again and she breathed in his scent…as want and need and adoration and a thousand other things were warring inside her, desperation clawing up her throat. 

He tipped up her chin, his hands still so incredibly gently on her body, before he fit his mouth over hers. 

She gasped into his kiss, her mouth opening on her own accord and suddenly his tongue was licking inside her mouth, and a shiver broke out all over her skin. 

It made him pull back immediately, his pupils wide open, staring at her. 

“Get back underneath the blankets, Sweetheart,” he told her, his voice gravelling, brokering absolutely no argument. 

He fit himself underneath them with her… her legs opening so that he could fit himself between them until she was bracketed by warmth until all she could see in her nearer vicinity was him and only him.

Cilla had never loved anything more. 

She lifted her head in invitation and he kissed her again. 

Was this…all he wanted?

Apparently not. 

Only then she realised that she was no longer wearing her dress. He must have undressed her, gotten her out of her drenched clothing and then covered her back up with a shirt that was his…just that now it shredded underneath his hands and he pressed another kiss against her lips…nearly apologetic. 

She couldn’t care less, because she was quite sure that she had already shredded his shirt as well, where she had fisted her hands into it. 

And then Azriel kissed her mouth again and all thoughts fled Cilla’s brain anyway, desperation settling inside her brain. 

His broad hands soothed down her body, touching her gently and soft and never painful. 

Nothing hurt, nothing ever even threatened to hurt…not even when one hand slipped to the apex of her thighs, petting her there, nearly leisurely. 

She had never felt anything that made her feel like these fingers made her feel. 

Something inside her twisted as they brushed against the hot seam of hers…when they pressed very gently upwards, until they found that little nub. A full-body shiver wrecked through her, and he swallowed her noises. 

And then, so very gently, he drew a single finger over the membrane of her wing. 

She was used to rough touches if any. Was used to pain and jerking…was definitely not used to a whisper-soft touch. 

Cilla didn’t understand what happened. Didn’t understand what he did to her, before her whole body already seized, her inside clenching and throbbing. She had never felt anything like this before. 

She whimpered into his mouth, her back arching, his mouth slipping down to her neck, pressing kisses there as she shook underneath him. 

“Cauldron, you are gorgeous when you come,” he whispered. 

Come? 

Your pleasure, the shadows whispered. 

Oh. 

She didn’t even get to say anything before he eased one thick finger inside her. 

“Oh gods,” she choked out, suddenly feeling so…so full. 

So utterly and… completely his. 

Still, she wanted to be the one to make sure that he felt just like she did. 

“What about you?” she asked him, her voice thin and reedy, punctuated by a gasp. 

Azriel chuckled softly, just as he crooked his finger just so and she trembled again. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he promised her, catching her mouth with his and she hungrily kissed him. Cilla clung to him, completely ruining his shirt in her quest to feel his naked skin against hers, and he pulled it over his head with an impatient growl, fitting her skin against hers, making her shiver with something that definitely wasn’t the cold. 

“I need you,” she whimpered, not even sure for what exactly she was even asking.

“You have me.” He promised her, pressing another kiss against her mouth, licking into it, tangling with hers. 

She wasn’t even sure when exactly he had lost his trousers, just that suddenly the thick blunt head of his prick notched against her and before she could even start to be scared, pressed inside her. 

Gods. 

The sound that escaped her was a high whine, her back arching against him, suddenly…finally, filled by him. 

And then he stopped, filling her up only slightly and she protested with a wiggle of her hips. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re bleeding,” he cursed, and she blinked open her eyes to watch realisation settle on him. “You…have you done this before?”  Azriel asked her, still holding her hips tightly, stopping her from further pressing him inside her.  “Have you had sex before, Cilla?”

She just shook her head. 

“Gods, Sweetheart, why didn’t you say something?” Azriel asked her, desperation settling into his voice. 

“Does it matter?” Cilla asked him, her voice shaking. Did it matter to him? She hadn't even really thought about it. She had just wanted...she had just needed to feel him as close to her as she possible good, she had just wanted to cement their mating bond, she had wanted...

“Just…I would have eased you into it,” Azriel protested, as he dropped his head to hers. “We could have…taken it slower.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

He wasn't...angry? He just wanted...had just wanted to make it easier for her?

She didn't know what to say to that. She didn't know what to...

“You did,” she finally disagreed, letting one hand slip over his back, pulling him closer to her, and he went, pressing soft kisses all over her face. 

“Not like I would have,” he sighed. “Does it hurt badly?” he asked her, still peppering kisses over her face. "Do you want to stop?"

“It doesn’t hurt,” she promised him. Her muscles ached, the stretch clearly not something she was used to, but it didn’t hurt.  There was no pain. Actually, Cilla quite liked the feeling of him lodged inside her. "And I don't want to stop." 

She really didn't. Cilla tried to move her hips, rocking back down against him, and Azriel let her, pressing one soft kiss against her unresisting lips. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised her softly. There was nothing he needed to make up to her…but she wasn’t going to start protesting because she wanted him inside her, and she wanted him inside her now. 

And then, he pushed deeper and she shivered once again, shifting her legs so that she could wrap them around him properly. 

One moment later, his thumb was back on that little nub of flesh at the apex of her thighs and she quivered. 

She wrapped her arms around him, clinging onto her mate with everything she had. 

He was inside her, surrounding her, everywhere and Cilla…Cilla felt safe. 

For once in her life, she felt safe and let somebody else take care off her. 

He was touching her like it was a privilege. 

She had never thought that…that any male would touch her like that. Ever. 

But Azriel did. Azriel thrust inside her slowly, with gentle rolls of her hips, so carefully not to hurt her, not to use his strength against her. 

Azriel guided her gently, making it easy for her to feel the rhythm and reciprocate…touched her until that shivery feeling from before returned…until she could feel herself clenching around him, her head thrown back with her moans, her back arching as it felt like her whole body was climbing higher and higher towards her release.

And then finally…finally she reached her peak, with a whimper. 

Cilla took a page out of Azriel’s book, reaching out for one of his broad massive wings and brushed her fingers against the warm skin. A ragged groan came from Azriel and she felt something hot coat her insides.

He didn’t pull back, didn’t move out of her grasp…the only thing he did was to roll them so they were on their sides, not wanting to squash her with his weight. 

One wing came over her, wrapping her up, right there against his chest, curled into the warm, comfortable bed, her head tucked against him…He pressed kisses to her face and her neck and her shoulder, everywhere he could reach. 

Safe. 

She was safe. 

Safe and cherished.

[axelsagewrites]

Can I request a modern! Jacaerys x Fem! OC fic where Rhaenyra is best friends with the OC’s mother and both Rhaenyra and the OC’s mother try to get Jacaerys and the OC to be friends and like each other but they absolutely hate each other ( like actually hate ) even when they were babies. Then, they grow up near each other and go to the same school but they still hate each other severely. During high school Jace becomes popular, and becomes the captain of his soccer team, and even gets a girlfriend while the OC is not popular by any means and is very shy and reclusive. They go off to uni, and the OC finally shows up to a frat party ( Jace’s frat ) and the tension sort of at its height, and that night and the OC accidentally ends up pregnant and they learn to love and live with each other during her pregnancy. Thank you so much if you can do this btw!!!

Jace Velaryon*Frat Party

Pairing: jace x f!reader

Word count: 1982

Warnings: rivalry, mentions of bullying, frat jace, flirty frat cregan, implied smut but nothing explicity, hate sex, accidental pregnancy, drinking

Masterlist Here

Part Two linked at end

You had no clue how someone so sweet and loving and kind and amazing could birth such an idiotic insufferable twat. Yet somehow Rhaenyra had managed to do just that. Your mother was friends with Rhaenyra, lovingly dubbed aunty Nyra by you, and were so close that they deliberately moved into the same neighbourhood. This was all be swell if not for the fact that her eldest son Jace was just such a dick.

Your mothers tried to make you like each other and constantly set up playdates but you would simply ditch Jace to play with Luke until you realised, he’d only been so quite because he was giving your barbies haircuts. Eventually some time in middle school they gave up trying but still forced you to go on joint family vacations and similar hellish events.

There was a time in your freshman year of high school you almost became friends. That summer had gone surprisingly well with you both finally being civil enough to talk to each other. Then school rolled around again and Jace got onto the high school soccer team. You congratulated him and even was debating plucking up the courage to ask him to go out to celebrate since despite how much you hated him even you thought he was cute. Then he and sara snow came waltzing out of school and in hand and you went right back to hating him.

It wasn’t just because you were jealous, which you were but refused to admit, but because Sara snow had tormented you all of your first year. And Jace knew this. He knew she would taunt you and make pig noises at you in the corridor but yet here he was sucking face with her in front of your locker which was sadly right above his.

It only got worse when he dumped her then became the captain of the team. Then came a string of girlfriends who’d fawn over him relentlessly in school. To say it was hell was an understatement especially since it always seemed to be the girls that would tease you or laugh when you walked past. Highschool sucked to say the least but finally after all these years of hard work you got the letter.

Youd got into your dream school and were set to be moving to the dorm soon. A new start, new friends, another chance. Finally. Your bubble however was popped by your usual enemy. Jace fucking Velaryon was going there as well. You basically ran him down at the joint celebratory dinner your parents threw you both to say that if he dared ruin university for you the same way he ruined high school you’d make sure he’d never kick another ball again.

So, for the first two years you had peace. You had a small circle of friends, great classes, amazing grades, and your hair finally began to cooperate with you. Aunty Nyra even joked uni had given you a glow up when she saw you this summer. What you didn’t see was the way Jace’s eyes followed you as you left the room.

“I can’t believe you’ve never went to a frat party,” Aly said as she began to raid your closet, pulling out a dress and holding it to herself, “This poor dress. it deserves to see a little fun,”

You snorted at your friends as you helped straighten Sansa’s hair. “You wear it,”

“Or you could,” Sansa retorted, backing off when you held the straighteners in a way an angry mother holds a wooden spoon.

“Either you wear it, or I will,” Aly said as she tossed it on the bed and continued her raid. Your roommate Sansa had recently become friends with Aly and in an unexpected turn so had you. you and Sansa were far quieter than her, but Sansa always seemed to come back from hanging out with her with a huge smile, “Girl look at this top,” Aly broke your train of thought as she held up a black low-cut top, “How you not gonna go out when you own all these clothes?”

“My aunty got me them,”

Aly rolled her eyes as she continued her search, “Well I’m stealing the top but you’re wearing that dress,” she said and before you could even protest, she cut you off, “You are far too hot to be at home in sweats on a Saturday night. We are going,”

You sighed as you finished Sansa’s hair, but she turned to look up at you, “Cmon,” she whined, “one hour and if you don’t like it, we’ll all come back here and watch the polar express,”

You sighed yet again before pausing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all your confidence was far better than what it once was, and you had a good few friends you knew would also be going. Your eyes wandered to the dark red dress on the bed. “Fuck it,” you said, snatching up the fabric.

“You’re coming?!” Sansa grinned, flinging herself off the bed, “Finally come on sit down. Its makeup times!”

-

Sansa and Aly worked their magic and soon you were walking arm in arm with both girls to the frat. And you had to say they had done a good job if you do say so yourself. Even if you were currently freezing that was. “Boys,” Aly greeted with a wide grin as she walked up to the boy at the door, Cregan you were sure.

“Troubles here,” he joked, his eyes wandering up and down, “And you brought a friend,” he said, eyes turning to you, and it was like the wind was knocked out of you when you saw his face, “Nice to meet you I’m Cregan,”

“Hi,” you grinned, quickly introducing yourself before rushing inside with a giggling Sansa and Aly.

“He was so checking you out,” Aly nudged your ribs.

“Okay maybe this was a good idea,” you laughed as she dragged you and Sansa off for some drinks.

-

As you stood filling your cup with cheap beer there was a set of gorgeous brown eyes watching your every move, “Dude you know that girl?” Cregan asked as he walked over with more drinks for him and Jace.

“She’s my neighbour,” he said, taking the drink and trying not to let his eyes wander again.

Cregan let out a low whistle, “If she was my neighbour, she would not be here alone,” he laughed prompting Jace to shove his elbow into his ribs, “Hey man!”

-

Meanwhile you had somehow been convinced to head to the dance floor. Perhaps the three drinks Aly had got you and the buzz in your head had helped. The night had been going surprisingly well. So far at least. You hadn’t even realised Jace was here. That was till you felt two strong hands grip your hips, “Not such a goody two shoes now,” Jace’s voice was low, his breath tickling your neck.

You turned around with a drunken grin as you attempted to push him back, but your attempt was futile, “What did you miss me too much?” you joked.

A grin spread across his lips, “You’re drunk?” he asked, his head tilted like a puppy.

“Watcha gonna do about it? tell on me?” you teased as you crossed your arms. Not knowing it gave Jace an even better view of your tits. “I’m just having a little fun,”

He chuckled as his hands returned to your hips, his head dipping slightly in a way that made butterflies spark in your stomach, “Why don’t you show me how to have a little fun then doll?”

Your eyes flickered down, scanning his face for a moment before grinning, “Follow me then,” you said as you lead him to the drinks table.

Several drinks later you awoke in dark blue sheets and a soccer jersey wondering where the hell your dress went and a strong arm around your waist. The low pounding of your head and Jace’s snores brought you back to reality. “Fuck,” you muttered as you tried to ease out of his grip.

Your eyes fell to the floor where your dress had apparently ended up last night. You debated which was worse, walking home in last night’s dress or Jace’s jersey. You quickly decided to steal a pair of his joggies as well and just ball up the dress and take it with you. as you crept out the room you ignored the faint snoring in the background.

Part of you wondered if it had all been a bad dream. That was till your phone buzzed.

Jace

You stole my jersey

You

What you gonna do? Tell on me?

You sighed as you flung your phone to the side and shoved your pillow in your face to scream. Funnily enough what you had been doing only last night as well.

-

It was the next day when a heavy knock came at the door. when you opened it, eyebrows knitted, you were met with an infuriatingly hot site. Jace’s arm was lent against the door meaning he was able to glare down at you perfectly, “I want my jersey,”

“Sorry do I know you?” you asked, crossing your arms with a tilted glare.

Jace scoffed slightly before grinning, “You seemed to remember my name fine the other night,” this time you scoffed but not before Jace pushed his way in. “Where is it?”

“Get out of my room!” you protested as Jace shut the door behind him and started rummaging. As his hands went to grab your sheets you pulled at his arms to keep him back but not shockingly, he was able to push you off with ease. “Hey!”

“What’s this?” he said, his hand reaching for the jersey that had been under your duvet however your face went red when he lifted it. a wide grin spread across his stupid face, “What’s that princess?”

“Don’t princess me,” you stuttered as he went to grab the pink silicone you’d left on your bed. “Don’t!” you whined as you grabbed his wrist, accidentally ending up face to face with him yet again.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and you saw his eyes dip for a moment as a pit grew in your stomach. Before you could think what to do next his lips had crashed onto yours, his jersey slipping from his grip as his hands moved to cup your face.

Your hands grabbed at his t-shirt, pulling him in closer till you were stood pressed against his hard chest. His hands moved to your back, finding the small of your waist. Jace sat down, bringing you with him to staddle his lap. You gasped when you felt his bulge pressing into your thigh.

His lips moved to your neck, kissing every last bit of skin he could reach. “This is a bad idea- “

“Why don’t you shut up and enjoy it princess?” Jace cut you off, his hands slipping beneath your shirt. “You enjoyed it the other day,”

You groaned as his fingertips explored your skin before finally sighing, “Fine but it’s just sex,” Jace rolled his eyes at you but didn’t bother to respond as he flipped you onto your back, his hands moving to pull off your shirt.

-

You knew having a enemies with benefits situation ship with Jace would eventually come back to bite you in the ass but the two pink lines staring back at you felt like being plunged into ice water. “You okay Hun?” Sansa called through the door, wondering what had been taking you so long.

You unlocked the door but refused to stand up. Sansa walked in; concern written over her face when her eyes finally spotted the test in your hand. Looking up at her you could only say one thing, “I’m pregnant,”

Part two here

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

[outsideratheart]

Us (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: I have no idea where this came from but it has been stuck in my head for a few weeks. I hope you guys like it!

You had been in the most important meeting of your career when you received a message.  You never turned your phone off in case there was an emergency but you did put it on do not disturb. The small vibration in your pocket told you 1 of 2 people were trying to get in touch with you. Your manager was in the meeting with you so it only left one person.

I need you, please can you come over.

As far as Alexia was aware you were in England. Your mind went to the worse case scenario because it had to be something bad if she was asking you to get on a plane and fly to Barcelona with no explanation. 

In the politest way possible you excuse yourself from the meeting and leave your future in the safe hands of your manager, who upon seeing your face backs your decision to leave without asking any questions.

A quick text is sent to your girlfriend saying that you are on your way but there’s no response. You try calling only there is no answer. By the time you get to her apartment building you are filled with worry and you waste no time in running up the stairs having no patience to wait for the elevator.

When you knock on the door you are not met by your girlfriend. 

“You’re the lion?” The resemblance was even more striking up close. You had met Alba once or you had at least been in the same room as her.

“Technically I’m a lioness” 

It makes a little more sense now. No one was aware of your relationship and in order to keep the questions at bay you didn’t save each others phone number under a name, instead it was an emoji. Yours was a lion due your national team’s nickname and your on pitch persona. Hers was a crown because she was your queen and known by the fans as La Reina.

“Alba let her in” another woman, Alexia’s mother, guides you through the apartment even though you have been here enough times to know your way around.

“You’re the girl my daughter has been seeing”  

“I am and I will happily introduce myself and answer any questions you may have after I have seen her”

“She’s in the living room. When we came she was crying and she won’t talk to any of us” one of Alexia’s best friends says.

It didn’t look good. Her mother, sister and best friend all at your girlfriends apartment yet she is refusing to talk to any of them

The three woman give you some space as you enter the living room. All of them hoped that you would have more luck at finding out what was wrong.

“Hello you” you crouch down so that you are at her level and without saying a word Alexia wraps her arms around you tightly. The speed of it almost sends you both to the ground but you steady yourself just in time.

Once on the sofa Alexia buries her face in the crook of your neck.

“How are you here?”

“That doesn’t matter. Alexia, what is wrong?”

“They won’t leave me alone. It’s like they are obsessed with my personal life. I’m happy, why isn’t that enough for them? Why do they need to get involved and keep bringing up the past?”

You were at a loss. Yes you were aware of the spotlight that was constantly on Alexia, one was on you as well but you had been dating for almost 2 years now and nobody was the wiser. 

“Who cariño?” Eli asks from the other side of the room. 

“The girls. They think that because Jenni signed for Atleti that we are going to get back together. We finally got back to a good place during the World Cup and no one seems to understand that we are just friends. We are Y/N, I promise nothing is going on” Alexia turns to look at you.

During the World Cup you saw the rumours and they spread quickly given that everyone assumes Alexia is single. At first it bothered you but the two of you talked about it and you realised that you were jealous for no reason. Alexia was your girl and only yours.

“I know” deep down you hated that she was still getting linked to another woman but it wasn’t a threat to your relationship so you let it go.

“They are going to ruin everything. They don’t even know and they are ruining—“

“Alexia, nobody is ruining anything. Let your friends talk. At the end of the day it is me and you”

The three other women in the room watched and listened as you talked Alexia through her panic. You were able to calm her and bring her peace in a moment that was very overwhelming for her.

“But Jenni is—“

“Jenni is your past and that cannot be changed. What have I told you?” You ask your girlfriend.

The woman who is still cuddled into your side mumbles something incoherent and you know she is mumbling because she doesn’t want the other women to know the words you told her during the summer.

“She’s your first love Alexia, I intend to be your last” you kiss the corner of her mouth. 

The sound of awes burst the little bubble that you had formed around you and Alexia. Clearly embarrassed, Alexia once again hides herself. 

Knowing that the two of you can’t ignore the introduction that the women are waiting for, Alexia officially introduces you to Eli, Alba and Miri as her girlfriend. 

“What happens now?” Alexia asks you “Do we tell people? I don’t want our bubble to break, everything is normal with you. We are Y/N and Alexia but when people find out we will be captains, players and rivals”

“Hey, calm down. They will change but we won’t. Do you want to be us normal or what everyone else expects us to be?”

“Us normal”

“Well then I am going to drive you back to your training facility, open the door for you like I always do, I’ll kiss you goodbye and then you’re going to go to work”

Your confidence was reassuring to all in the room.

Alexia tells you that she is going to freshen up in the bathroom which leaves you alone with three of the most important people in her life. Your media training comes in very handy as you are able to answer all of Alba’s and Miri’s questions without hesitation or breaking a sweat. However, Eli’s question catches you off guard.

“You’re the reason why Alexia didn’t come back to the room after the awards show in Dubai aren’t you?”

“Guilty but nothing happened” technically it was the truth, nothing did happen that night “We spent the night in the hotel bar talking then went to the beach to watch the sunrise”

“Can I ask you a question?” Alba says “If you were in England when you received the text would have come?”

“I would have been on the first flight out, yes”

It seemed to enough to please the younger Putellas because she simply nodded her head.

Once Alexia was ready you did as you said. The two of you drove to Joan Camper, Alexia quizzed you the entire car journey because you still hadn’t told her why you were in Barcelona. You open the door for her as expected but what Alexia didn’t expect was you to walk with her into the facility.

“I love that you care but you don’t have to do this for me, I can handle it” 

“Who says I’m doing it for you”

The two of you stop in front of the canteen. It was surrounded by glass windows and you can see the majority of the team eating their lunch.

“Us normal?” You ask Alexia and she nods her head. As you normally would whenever you visited her or she visited you, you kissed her once on the lips and then once on her hairline as she hugged you goodbye.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Alexia asks as you don’t go in the direction of the exit. 

“You asked how I’m here. Well, I have a job interview with your boss” 

[greatsharklamia]

Summary: Step siblings since you were 16, it’s the first time you’ve seen Rafe since he left home for college. And now adults, your relationship is changing, helped along by Rafes four year old daughter.

Tags: Step-Siblings, Adulthood, Dad Rafe, Single Parent

Warnings: Step-sibling relationship, slight talk of being horny

Growing up in the cut, you’d known that you were poor. But you’d never realised how poor. Not until your mother started dating, and then later married, Ward Cameron.

It was like a whole other world opened up.

Sure, there were issues. You were 15 when they started dating, and 16 when they married. Old enough that you didn’t want new siblings. Not that they were siblings. They were comrades, trapped into this farce alongside you.

When your friends learned that Rafe Cameron was set to be your step-brother, they’d demanded a movie night. On show: step sibling love stories. From Mia Culpa, Clueless and snippets of Disney's Life with Derek, to the more risque movies.

Okay, so calling them movies was a stretch. It was straight up porn. Now at least you all knew what the guys meant when they joked ‘help me step-bro I’m stuck.’

The only issue with watching step siblings fall in love, was that it was sometimes hard to push it from your mind when Rafe was around. Thankfully you didn’t see each other a lot. Unlike with Sarah and Wheezie, with whom you’d become sort of friends with, Rafe had never tried to get along with you.

It was fine though, you didn’t need his shitty attitude in your life. He was off in his first year of college anyway, and soon would likely return to Kildare to move into his own mcmansion.

In the meantime, you worked hard. Having refused to move to the posh Figure 8 school had disappointed your mom, but she couldn’t argue that you were happier in the cut.

Time flew, and before you knew it you were returning home to celebrate your mom and Wards ten year anniversary. You’d kept in touch with Sarah and Wheezie, and though hadn’t been home in a while, still managed to call or text them most weeks. Communication with your step-brother had been non existent however. For all you knew he could be dead.

That was an exaggeration. You would have been invited to his funeral if that had happened. If only to console his sisters.

You were looking forward to returning to the outer banks though, some of your best friends from High School had remained on the island. And the biggest surprise of all was the amazing windfall for four (turned six). All Kie had told you was that they’d stumbled across some treasure, and that was that.

Honestly, their new status as Kooks was the least interesting thing about them.

JJ and Kie had married a couple of years back in a small wedding, with only friends in attendance. Since then they’d had one child, and according to sources (Sarah), JJ the stay at home dad was hoping Kies job allowed time for another baby soon.

Pope and Cleo were getting married next year, your invite was pinned to the fridge in your apartment. And a couple of months back, during a group facetime, Cleo had let slip that they were thinking about fostering. With their massive house and the retirement of Popes folks, it was something they were really excited about.

Sarah and John B, married since Highschool, were pregnant. And so excited. Having married so young and so abruptly you knew that a lot of people had expected them to have kids immediately, a rumor that the Camerons had worked to dispel. Your step sister was going to be an amazing mother, you just knew it.

But aside from other friends, it was Rafe that you were most interested in seeing. If only because of your curiosity.

After Uni he hadn’t moved back to Kildare, as expected. Instead, he had gotten a highpaying office job in New York, and there he met her.

From what the other woman in your family had told you, she was a snake through and through. But she had gifted Rafe with the most amazing thing. A little girl. Immediately after giving birth her mother had disappeared intio the night, never to be seen from again. She’d signed over her rights to her baby, and swindled a large chunk of cash from Rafe.

Now his baby girl was four, and very very cute. Or so everyone told you. And she had made the Rafe of your teen years disappear. According to everyone, while still a conceited jerk a lot of the time, he had mellowed, and no longer made it his mission to piss everyone off.

It was going to be so bizarre being home.

When you pulled into the long circular driveway, you could tell that everyone was there already. Being last didn’t phase you though, and you didn’t waste any time exiting the rental car, and hustling for the front door. You’d get your bags later, right now it was hot as hell outside and the aircon inside was calling your name.

You’d barley made in in the front door when you were being attacked by Wheezie. For a Uni student living on noodles and cheap vodka she was really strong, practically lifting you off your feet in a hug.

Over her shoulder you could see the rest of the family relaxing in the living room. Ward deigned to nod at you, which you returned with a polite smile. Your mother and Sarah however came hurrying over, joining the hug. And then a small body hit your hip. Looking down you saw the cutest little face ever.

Clearly she’d had never met a stranger, because she immediately started requesting ‘up.’ One look at Rafe showed he didn’t care, so you pulled back from the hug and bent to sweep her into your arms. Playfully making a show of nibbling on her hand which had come to rest on your cheek.

She squealed with laughter, and you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face as you brought her into the group hug.

Rafe had never really cared to think about you. Yeah you were hot in highschool, but you were a Pouge. It didn’t matter if you’re mom had married his dad, you were never going to be a kook.

But seeing you here, now? He couldn’t deny that you were stunning. And his daughter was clearly smitten with you.

She’d not let go of you since the group hug over an hour ago, resting in your lap and playing with the gold chain around your neck. While normally Rafe might have been jealous of anyone else holding his daughters attention for that long, he couldn’t bring himself to care now. Not when it was you.

He’d decided then and there, by the end of the trip you were going to be his.

It didn’t take long for you to realise that Rafe really was different.

While his relationship with Wheezie had always been sweet, he and Sarah had hated each other. That was gone now. Sarah sat to the left of him, playfully making fun of the drink he had in his hand. Something about it being for old men. But it was seeing how he reacted to John B that really showed the changes in him.

They seemed to be…friendly.

It wasn’t worth dwelling on, everyone was happy, and surprises aside it was shaping up to being a nice trip home.

Now if only you didn’t feel so lonely. It was hard seeing everyone from your teen years settled and happy, while all you had to show for your life was a failed engagement and crushing student debt.

Life wasn’t all bad though. You had an amazing group of friends, a flat you loved and a job that not only provided well, but was a great stepping stone to your dream job.

It was the heavy thoughts that led to you knocking back too many drinks. You’d tried not to at first, due to Rafes daughter, Amelia. But the sweet girl had toddled off an hour ago for a nap, and you were free to imbibe as you pleased.

That did backfire though, as halfway through your 6th drink Amelia was back from her nap and wanting a cuddle. You were happy to do so, but first you told the little girl you needed the bathroom, and passed her off to her Aunt Sarah.

It hadn’t been a complete lie. You did need to go, but you also needed to talk to Rafe first.

He was sat at the other end of the lounge, almost right across from you, but far enough that you couldn’t talk to him without going over there. So, gathering your courage you went up to your stepbrother, who you hadn’t spoken to in years and asked him to follow you.

Rafe hadn’t expected you to come to him first. In fact, he had expected to have to work hard for your attention. This might have been a small disappointment, but that disappeared quickly at getting a moment alone with you.

No one else noticed as you led him into the kitchen. “Hi Rafe,” you said, jumping up to sit on the bench so you were closer to his height.

“Hi Y/N,” he replied, stepping closer. “What can I do for you.” There was a flirtatious tone to his voice. It was ignored.

“Your daughter’s stunning, and the absolute sweetest,” You started, and he had to quickly hide his smug joy. She was.

“And I’m loving hanging out with her,” you continued,“ but I've drunk quite a lot.”

He knew that. He’d watched as you had been served every one of those drinks. It wasn’t a surprise that you were feeling the effects. It was clear up close too; the alcohol had created a rosy flush across your cheeks, and the top of your chest.

Rafe didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Are you okay with me hanging out with her while I’m drunk?” you finally blurted out.

He was stunned. He hadn't expected that, but it was actually a good question. One he wouldn’t have thought about.

“How about you come and sit next to me with her,” Rafe suggested, using the opportunity presented to him.

Your eyes met his, and you held the eye contact for a long moment before nodding.

“I’m popping to the bathroom but then I’ll be back,” you said, shimmying forward to ready the jump from the counter, but Rafe placed his hands on your waist and lifted you off first.

The smell of his cologne filled your nose, and combined with the move he’d just pulled, warmth pooled low in your belly.

It wasn’t the time to be horny though, you’d brought one of your faithful toys and could get the job done later. Right now your libido needed to piss off so you could enjoy family time.

“Thanks,” you said, looking up at him and hoping that you were exuding calm and unflustered. Confident you hadn’t made a dick out of yourself, you excused yourself.

By the time you got back to the living room Rafe had settled back into the couch, and had his daughter held in his lap.

It was clear that he had told her you would be coming to join them, because the moment he caught sight of you, he pointed at you and the little girl was off like a rocket. Once again she found your hip with a force that was surprising.

Your bathroom break had shown that you were about as drunk as you thought you were, but being back in the air conditioned room was doing wonders to sober you up. For that reason, you had no qualms picking the girl up and settling her onto your hip for the small journey across the room.

Ignoring the confused looks from almost everyone else in the room, you settled easily onto the couch next to Rafe. You weren't expecting him to interact with you, but Rafe was quick to wave over a server and ask you what you wanted to drink. Child in lap, it seemed that orange juice was the safest bet, and over the course of the next couple of hours Rafe proved to be easy, attentive company and a doting father.

After dinner you were ready to brave the outside world. Chances to swim were few and far between where you lived, and the feeling of weightlessness that came from swimming in the ocean was your greatest want right now.

You let yourself out of the house. A small part of you thought that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. You were still a little tipsy from your earlier drinks. But you pushed it away, throwing your towel over your shoulder and strolling down the path to the beach.

Behind you, there was a noise and then a voice called out to you. A shirtless Rafe, Amelia slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, fell into step beside you.

“Hi,” you squeaked out, waving like an idiot. Thankfully, and not known to you, Rafe thought you were adorable.

“Going to the beach too?” he asked.

“Yes!” you were so excited, “I’m so excited.” You punctuated this with two small claps, which Amelia was quick to follow to both yours and Rafes amusement.

“You are just the cutest thing,” you said, running a hand over the girls head. She giggled and leaned toward you with arms outstretched, clearly wanting to be carried by you.

You took a moment to look at Rafe for permission, but he was already handing his daughter over. She was quick to steal all of your attention with her rambling, happy chatter. Not that Rafe could be mad.

No, now he could pay attention to you, and if caught, well his daughter made a great scapegoat. Your towel was pulled off your shoulder after a moment, and when you turned Rafe just waved you away. No arguments from you.

The walk to the beach was passed in the same way the day had passed. You focused on Amelia, and Rafe focused on the two of you. Even going so far as to ask if you wanted him to rub sun cream into your back when you got to the beach.

His large hands massaging the cool cream into your warm back felt glorious. And Rafe was in agreement, stretching the moment out as long as he could. He’d not expected you to slide behind him and return the favour, jumping slightly, but he was not turning down the offer, even sitting on the towel he’d laid out, when you tugged lightly on his arm.

You ran your hands down the strong muscles of Rafes back, pulling faces at Amelia all the while. She was cute as a button as she pouted, mad at having to wait a couple of minutes before getting in the water. And her dad was almost as cute.

You finished rubbing the sunblock into his back and neck, but decided a little bit was needed on the tops of his ears. For some reason, this small action stole the breath from Rafe.

Standing from your seated position, the only way you could possibly get sunblock on Rafes back and ears without a step stool, you stole Amelia from the ground and jogged down the beach toward the waves.

It wasn’t until your laughter reached his ears that Rafe realized he should be following you, but it didn’t take long to catch up. His long stride ate up the distance in seconds, and when you hit the water he was beside you, reaching a hand out to steady you when a wave knocked low in your calves.

“Since Amelias so small for her age, I don’t normally let her go at the beach. She can swim in the pool with her floaties, but here I carry her the whole time.” Rafe explained lowly in your ear. You could understand. Without already knowing her age, you probably would have pegged her as a little younger.

“That works for us Step-bro,” you said. Your words were a deliberate attempt to cut some space between you and Rafe. His attention and care made you feel a bit like you were stepping into their little family, rather than hanging out with your estranged step sibling and his daughter.

It had the opposite effect on Rafe though, and if he wasn't already over waist deep in the water, it would have been obvious.

From that day forward, everywhere you went, Amelia and Rafe were close behind.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Epilogue

Thank you so much to my Nezriel lovers who have read along with this <3

In five hundred years, his family had learnt that they would find Azriel immovable. Feyre Archeron was still learning that fact. Her barrage of questions continued, even after Rhysand and the others had warned her off of it. He could turn himself to stone quite easily. It was his job to crack secrets from others so he knew how to bury his own deep and not reveal them.

‘Where is my sister?’ Feyre tried again, as she intercepted him on the stairs.

‘Not here.’

It was at least the seventeenth time she had attempted to interrogate him.

She rolled her eyes whilst forcing out a sigh. ‘No more vague answers. Tell me where Nesta is.’

‘It’s none of your concern.’

‘She’s my sister.’

‘She’s my mate,’ Azriel countered.

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘She is somewhere safe, at least?’

The accusation irked him. Yes, Azriel would keep his mate safe. Did Feyre expect him to dump Nesta in the Illyrian mountains alone to fend for herself?

Carefully, Azriel peeled her fingers from the banister to try and move past her.

‘I could just go in your head to find out, you know.’

Something cold and deadly gripped Azriel’s heart. Even Rhys didn’t go in his head. He lingered at the edges perhaps to pass on a message, but he wouldn’t dare to delve in fully. Azriel wouldn’t let him.

High Lady or not, Feyre had no right to threaten that.

‘You go into my head, Feyre, and you will regret it.’

The very thought of somebody pushing against his mental walls and rifling through the most intimate memories of his life made him feel sick. Azriel had buried his childhood deep into his memories. Even he refused to remember those times. The shadows on his shoulders were poised to strike, making Feyre realise her misspeak.

Colour dotted on her cheeks. ‘I wouldn’t. I only meant. I am worried about Nesta.’

‘She’s safe,’ he said, moving Feyre’s arm to her side and edging past her down the stairs.

These were the kind of conversations that Azriel was protecting Nesta from. Better she was in Illyria with only his mother than to be prodded and pecked here. Nesta didn’t need to be examined or interrogated. Amren was asking him daily when Nesta would return because her magic would need more rigorous training. Rhys had asked in a roundabout way whether anything was to come from the Carranam bond she shared with Eris – to which Azriel asked whether Rhys had hit his head badly during the war. They didn’t need to know that Azriel had been in contact with Eris frequently at Nesta’s request. They were hashing out the details for training her magic through letters as that seemed the best way not to wrap his hands around Eris’ throat and kill him. The snake, of course, was insistent upon Nesta training on Autumn Court ground, claiming that if he was spotted in Illyria and word leaked to his father then his life was in danger. There was not a chance in hell that Azriel was taking Nesta to Eris’ court. He had expected Eris to demand something in payment too. The fact he hadn’t unsettled Azriel more. Perhaps their prolonged contact and the shared magic to his mate was enough of a punishment.

As for his beautiful mate, he saw her usually twice a week, sometimes more often. Azriel savoured every moment with Nesta. With autumn biting into Illyria, they often took walks together beneath the bare trees or followed the stream until her hands became too cold and Azriel would winnow them back. His mother joined them occasionally. If the weather was poor, they’d remain in the house talking or going about their day with the other’s company. Nesta would read curled up with her head on his thigh while Azriel read through reports. His mother would potter between rooms either at her loom or sewing something. It was a steady, peaceful existence. A handful of times, Azriel had stayed the night – but only at Nesta’s request. He wanted her to decide the pace for everything. Their nights together were not spent in solemn silence, but in sudden rushes of passion. Nesta’s hands would scramble at his clothing to strip him bare then they’d kiss and hold each other with such fervour as though they’d never have the chance again. He loved to hear her moan. He lived for it. Nesta with damp hair from bathing, colour flooding her cheeks as she rocked beneath him was fast becoming his favourite view. Azriel could spend the rest of his life between her thighs.

‘Your sister ambushed me again yesterday,’ he said against her sleep-mussed hair.

Nesta made a murmur in acknowledgement as she burrowed against his bare chest in the bed. ‘Tell her that I am on the moon.’

‘Is that where you would like to live? Should I build you a house there?’

‘You’d build me a house?’

‘A palace.’

Azriel wrapped the quilt around her shoulders to keep out the cold as they languished in bed. He had always been an early riser – if he slept at all. It was something new to whittle away the morning in a sleepy haze in bed. He found that he enjoyed it. One of them would make tea then return to the bed. One would forget their drink in their dozy state and it would grow cold. Another would bring breakfast then they’d start their day around noon. It wasn’t every time, but he treasured the mornings with Nesta.

‘Feyre would like you to come to Solstice.’

Nesta let out a breath like she was deflating. There hadn’t been an outright no.

‘I should like to spend the morning with your mother then – if it suits you – come late in the afternoon.’

‘Will you stay the night?’

‘I suppose I can manage that,’ she said. ‘And could you return me to Illyria in the morning – before your snowball battle.’

‘Battle?’

‘I believed it was a serious event.’

Azriel nodded. ‘It is. But a battle suggests that Cass and Rhys have a chance of winning. It will be an annihilation – as it always is.’

Nesta groaned then sat up on the edge of the bed, her bare back exposed to him so Azriel couldn’t resist trailing his fingers along the nubs of her spine.

‘I have a meeting with Lord Evra,’ she announced, yawning and making a show of stretching her arms in the air.

Never in his wildest imaginations could Azriel have predicted he would see a Nesta Archeron so unguarded and carefree around him. After her initial trepidations around nudity and their bodies, she had no problem doing her hair in the mirror completely nude which he was certain was a form of torture for him. He had thought himself unbreakable. For five centuries, Azriel had been called stubborn. With his mate naked in front of him, Azriel quickly crumbled. He’d go to her, kiss her body and take her to the bed at least once more before they began their days. She seemed delighted that he couldn’t resist.

‘How is it progressing?’

‘Well,’ she stated, giving a brisk nod. ‘His sons are… surprisingly nice.’

‘You’ve met them?’

‘Not all,’ she clarified. ‘The younger ones who haven’t married. Ezra and Balthazar.’

Azriel sat up in the bed and raised a brow.

‘Oh, hush. I do not think there is a soul in Illyria who has not heard by now that we are mates.’ She dressed in a simple dress, thick for the cold weather then added extra layers while she spoke. ‘Balthazar will meet me here to walk together.’

He had expected her to attend Storm’s Rest and break down the Camp Lord with her iron spine and quick, clever tongue. Nesta had made Beron Vanserra be quiet and pay attention, so he did not doubt her abilities with Illyrian males either. But, she had surprised him entirely, by confessing that she had gone for a more traditional route. Nesta had baked many items with his mother’s assistance then taken them to Lord Evra to introduce herself. She’d blushed when she admitted she may have mentioned being the Shadowsinger’s mate and the High Lady’s sister to get an audience with him. Azriel did not care whose name she mentioned because this had given her purpose.

‘Will you come again this week?’

‘Yes. Tomorrow evening. Does that suit?’

Nesta inspected her nails. ‘I shall have to check my busy schedule of reading and embroidery, but I’m sure I can manage to see you.’ She leaned across the mattress to kiss him. ‘I must go. Take care.’

From the window, Azriel watched Nesta depart with Balthazar, the son of the Camp Lord. He kept a respectful distance as they walked. The urge to be possessive rankled him but he tamped down on it. Forced it away. He had no reason not to trust Nesta. Whilst he knew what Illyrian males could be like, she was adamant that not all males were the same and Azriel was proof of that.

His mother knocked at the door so Azriel pulled the blankets over his body before welcoming her into the bedroom.

‘Do you remember my friend Marsella?’

‘She’s near Iron Crest?’

His mother nodded and perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Her daughter will have a baby soon. Her husband died in the war. She’s asked if I can be there to help with the delivery and the days after the birth.’

It was common in Illyria for the females in a family to come together for a birth. They would take turns waking with the baby during the night or cook for the mother so she could rest.

‘I can take you.’

His mother smiled brightly then departed to pack a bag before he delivered her to Marsella’s house. The female insisted upon feeding him despite Azriel’s protests then he was given a dress for Nesta because she’d heard much of his mate from his mother then he was needled with questions about his mating bond and when they would move to Illyria and when they would have children and when would they have a mating celebration.

Azriel was quite ready to crawl into a hole when he returned to Velaris. Still, he brought the good news that Nesta would attend their Solstice dinner for Feyre’s birthday so he was left alone from their questions so he could be in peace.

‘Where are the rest of you?’

A shadow curled upon his shoulder but each visit to Illyria left him with less of them. He knew where they were. Curled up at the bottom of Nesta’s bed. He’d claimed she was spoiling them by letting them tuck into the bed next to her so they had responded by absconding from his ownership to be with her.

The following day, Azriel winnowed to Illyria and was greeted by a layer of snow. More was falling heavily with the promise of a cruel winter incoming.

Nesta met him at the door and scolded him for winnowing without a coat or gloves. He found that he liked her fussing. Liked the way she clasped his hands to feel their temperature or rubbed her hands down his arms to warm them up.

‘Come with me,’ she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the dining room.

Upon the table was a spread of food. Pumpkin soup had been ladled into two bowls with cream spiralling from the centre. Thickly cut, fresh bread was upon a cutting board with a slathering of butter melting into the pockets. Nesta had also made a joint of beef that was ready to fall apart with accompanying buttery potatoes garnished with parsley, an assortment of vegetables, as well as a platter of different pastries and cakes. Candles were scattered throughout, their golden light flickering upon the walls.

‘Nesta.’

A hesitant, almost nervous smile was upon her face.

‘This is me offering you food. You are my mate and I would like to spend all of my life with you, Azriel.’  

He reached for her hand and held it tightly. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I was sure the moment I realised I could lose you during the war. I want a forever with you. We deserve our happiness. We deserve to be together.’

Azriel kissed her deeply so that her body pressed to his. Nesta Archeron was his mate. She had chosen to keep their bond. He clutched her tighter, lifting her off of her feet to spin her.

‘I love you,’ he said, kissing her again.

‘I love you too. Now, eat, before it goes cold.’

They sat beside each other at the table, trying each dish. Azriel couldn’t wait to boast to Rhys that his mate had made a full three-course meal for their mating bond rather than heating up soup.

‘Your mother wrote to me,’ she said casually. ‘She’ll be away for a week, a week and a half. Do you think that’s a substantial amount of time?’

‘You planned this with her.’

Nesta gave a coy smile in response. ‘Marsella’s daughter is due to have a child, but it fell at the perfect time. We might have practised recipes together in anticipation.’

‘You really didn’t need to make all of this for me.’

‘I did,’ she said, most seriously. ‘Of course, I did. You have given so much to me, Az.’

A little thrill went through him at that. It was rare for Nesta to call him anything other than Azriel. Once or twice, she had called him Shadowsinger, but hearing her call him Az did something to him.

‘You have been there for me at my lowest. You have known what I needed before I did. You deserve nothing less than this.’

Her fingers wound through his hair as she leaned across to kiss him.

‘I am grateful to the universe for making me yours. You are the closest to the heavens that I will ever be. I love you,’ Nesta said. ‘And I look forward to spending my life with you, Azriel.’