#but my complicated feelings towards fathers shaped it

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

she's in love with somebody else (tonight I can see the truth)

Eddie Roundtree x Camila Dunne fic. Crossposted on ao3.

See, the thing that Eddie Roundtree learned, and learned early on, was that just because a man donated the sperm to birth you, didn't make him your dad. You had to earn that title. You had to show up, and support your kid, and make them feel loved. Not abandoned.

And Eddie doesn't give a shit about what Billy's said over the years: he didn't show up. He failed Camila and Julia. He failed to be a father just as he failed to be a husband just as he failed to be a good band leader.

Because fuck it, it didn't matter that Billy did most of the writing and all of the singing. It didn't matter that all of the girls loved him. It didn't matter that Camila loved him.

Because every time Billy got high or cheated on Camila (the bastard) or got uncomfortably intimate with Daisy, Camila took him back, and that was Camila's choice. That was her prerogative. That was the thing that Eddie had always loved about her: she knew what she wanted and she knew she was going to get it, hell or high water. She wanted Billy. She wanted a family. And she wanted a husband that loved her back. That last one was always the hardest (always the one that Billy failed her at the most), but she got it, eventually.

The only thing she didn't get was a good father for Julia.

Eddie's not Julia's father. He knows that. He would never pretend to be that. He's more than happy that Julia grew up calling him Uncle Eddie, that she always ran to him to show off her drawings and schoolwork, that she always had a smile or a conspiratorial roll of the eye to give him as she got older.

But those first few months (and so many times afterward, when Billy let music overtake the things that made his life full)? Eddie was there. He played with Julia. He held her before Billy did. (He loved her before Billy did.)

Julia deserved to have someone who loved her. She had the best mom she could ask for. But she didn't get a father. And Eddie made it his mission, in between dealing with Billy's bullshit and playing gigs and rolling his eyes at the drama in the radio station, to be there for Julia. To make sure that little girl never grew up feeling abandoned or unloved.

Even if that meant having to spend time with the woman he loved- completely, wholly, desperately- who he knew would never love him back. Because that was the rub of the whole thing, wasn't it? That he loved Camila for the very reasons she would never consider him anything more than a friend- her devotion to her family, her stubborn pursuit of her dreams, her love of a man who never looked at her like he looked at drugs or Daisy Jones.

Eddie's resentment towards Billy Dunne did not appear out of nowhere. It grew, and it festered, and eventually it blew. It blew so hard that a band fell apart. (Sure, there were other reasons the band was always doomed to fall apart at the seams, but Eddie knows that even if the rest of the band would have stayed, Eddie would have had to eventually leave.)

Eddie refused to talk to Billy for years and years after the Chicago show, but he didn't stop showing up at the house. He didn't stop spending time with Julia and Camila. He didn't stop showing up.

Because the band might have gotten divorced, but Julia didn't deserve to feel the ramifications of the split. She didn't deserve to be abandoned just because Eddie hated her father like he'd never hated anyone before.

Eddie was there when Julia turned ten with a set of colored pencils for her art kit. He was there when she was hitting teenage rebellion and swearing at her parents and he took her out to the bowling alley and explained that her parents (gritting his teeth on the word parents, of course) were trying their best, before cheekily explaining that it might be more productive for her to take out her anger on the pins than graffitiing the walls of her school. He was there when she graduated high school, whistling and cheering as loud as Camila as Julia walked across the stage. He was always ready to pause work and come to help her sort through her problems.

(He was always ready to make sure that Julia knew she was cherished.)

He was there for Julia when decades later, she came to him and told him that she wanted to write about what went down with the band.

And he was there when Julia came to him and asked if he was willing to sit down with her father and finally talk.

It took more effort than anything that Eddie had ever done. It took a Herculean strength that he hadn't possessed until that moment and never would again.

But Eddie would never deny his...child (daughter, he'd thought of her for years, but could never say out loud) anything. So he meets Billy Dunne at the diner an hour between their places. Billy's eyes are red and wet- a startling thing to see, since he'd finally gone sober. "I don't know if Camila's told you yet," Billy says, "But she has cancer. It's Stage 4. She's only got a few months left."

The oxygen is punched from Eddie's lungs. "What?" he croaks, because it's been decades, forty plus years, and he's dated other girls, had other relationships, but Camila is the only woman he's ever truly loved.

Billy nods. "And she says that she wants everyone she loves by her side in her final days."

The implication in Billy's words is clear, but Eddie's just petty enough to make him say it aloud. "And that includes me?"

Billy nods. His lips thin, but his words hold no resentment as he says: "That includes you, Roundtree." His fingers twist the napkin on the table. "You know, since Julia started asking all those questions about the band, I've been thinking."

Eddie smirks, trying to cover up the hollow expanding in his chest at the knowledge that soon, Camila Dunne, in all her brilliance, is going to be leaving this world. "Didn't know you were capable of that."

Billy rolls his eyes, and it's Julia rolling her eyes, it's Camila rolling hers. Once, when Warren was high, he told Eddie that he'd heard that the longer you spend with someone, the more you begin to resemble them. Their mannerisms become yours. Their face reflects yours. "Fuck off, Roundtree. What I meant is that I was thinking about you and her. And she's been thinking about you and her."

Some strange contradiction of emotions is banging about in Eddie's chest, some tangled sense of hope and dread. "Me and her?"

"Camila and I have been talking about second chances. About things we should have realized long ago. And I will never, ever regret spending my years loving her-" And at this, Billy's voice gets fierce, love dripping from his tone, and Eddie might hate him for everything he's ever put his family through, but there is something about the love in his voice that feels honest and striking and sincere. "-And she loves me, but we've talked, and she thinks that we should both get one final shot at something else. Not at substituting out the family, not ruining anything, but adding to it. Naming things that have always been there." He locks eyes with Eddie, staring him dead on. "And you, Roundtree? You've always been there. Even when I failed." He clears his throat, looks down. "Especially when I failed."

Eddie has never needed Billy to validate him any way. Not when it came to this. Not when it came to being a good father. But hearing it from Billy's smarmy mouth? Some petty part of Eddie enjoys it. "And Camila didn't want to call me and tell me?"

"First off, I think she wants to see you in person. You haven't visited in almost a year. But also? I think she might have been a bit unsure. Of if you would reciprocate a...second chance at something more."

"I never thought I'd hear Billy Dunne offering something like that."

Billy snorts. "Over the years I've learned that being selfish only ever hurts the people around you." Eddie can't help a snort- not at the sentiment, but at hearing it from Billy's mouth. Billy has the decency to flash him a chagrined smile. "I know, I clearly hadn't learned it back in the band days."

"You can say that again, Dunne," Eddie says, and offers up his glass of Diet Coke to clink against Billy's Coke Zero. They're both rolling in far less caffeine than they once did, far more careful about their older bodies than they ever were on tour. Maybe old age can prompt maturity. Maybe Billy Dunne can change.

And maybe Eddie Roundtree can have a second chance, after all these years.

---

Eddie opens the door to Camila's hospital room. Julia jumps from her seat by Camila's side and greets him with a hug, which Eddie returns with enthusiasm even as he sees Camila in her hospital bed. She's looking a little worse for the wear, a little frail after what Billy said was her most recent round of chemo, but there is still a loving smile on her lips and life in her eyes as she watches the two of them hug.

"Treat her well, Uncle Eddie," Julia says as she pulls away from the hug with a fond pat to his cheek before exiting the room, presumably to give them space.

"Hey, Cam," Eddie says, voice soft, "Hear we have something to talk about."

Camila gestures him forward, as commanding as always, and he follows, sitting in Julia's vacated seat by her side. She takes his hand in hers, and despite the sallow edge to her cheeks, her smile is lighting up his world just like it did when he first met her. "Yes, cariño," she says, fondness in her tone, "Let's talk."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45498667

[bunnys-kisses]

all bark, no bite

max verstappen - team principal au

tags: smut/pwp, halloween fic, costumes (reader dresses as a puppy), collars, team principal!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), power dynamic, semi-public sex, quiet-ish sex, clothed sex, dirty talk

a/n: have a happy halloween, i'm writing more team principal au, if you have any suggestions for future installments, please send them to me. i love hearing what ya'll come up with!!

"you are not going to the party like that." you felt like you were being scolded by your father rather than your boss. you made a face and looked over to see your team principal near by.

you stuck your tongue out, "too bad." then started to walk further away from your driver's room and towards the exit. but, you didn't get far, not while your boss had a longer stride than you.

he captured your wrist and pulled you back, closer to him. in your heels, you staggered backwards. you looked up at him and frowned. he said, "i said, you're not going out like that."

"i don't have another costume." you bit back.

max made a face, "go as a verstappen racing fan. i don't know. but i'm not having you cause a scene because you decided to dress like a whore."

you had a complicated relationship with your team principal. you had seen the jokes over the years of tps having interesting dynamics with drivers, even drivers not on their team. you had even seen memes about your own dynamic with max verstappen.

if only they knew.

he had you pinned to his chest, with his hand on your wrist as he examined your neck from the odd angle. he clicked his tongue and said, "what is this costume even supposed to be?"

you replied, "a puppy."

"a puppy, huh? usually puppies have some manners. they at least look a little apologetic when their owners are mad at them." he sad as he used his other hand to touch at the collar around your neck, "you're not very apologetic towards me."

"you're not my owner."

he replied, "you may not have my name around your neck. but you have my logo across your pretty tits every time you race. i'd say that's about the same thing." you are max verstappen were intimate in a way that would send the press into a heated frenzy. you gave him racing results and he gave you the world.

but he had such a possessive streak through him. a jealous old man. you whined when he held onto your throat a little tighter. you shifted a little under his touch.

he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and squeezed the collar a little, thus squeezing your throat. he groaned, "if you wanted me to fuck you on halloween, you only had to ask." he held on a little tighter.

there was no one else around. there wouldn't be. halloween was on a thursday, practice didn't start till tomorrow. you eventually ended up on the transport boxes with the skirt of your dress hiked up.

you were dressed like a dalmatian, except anyone could make out the shape of your body. max had expectations for you as a driver for his team. he knew what it was like to be young with the world at your fingertips. he was meant to guide you. especially with how everyone recorded anything.

"hoping to get lucky tonight, puppy?" he asked as he pushed the dress up, exposing the thin, white cotton panties underneath. he licked his lips, "we could've gone back to my hotel room and played all night. fetch, tug-o-war, maybe you'd even get a bone by the end of the night." he licked his lips.

your face flushed and you shifted against the metal and plastic of the boxes. the surface was uneven and left your back feeling sore. this felt so public, it wasn't in the most excluded area. you swallowed, "oh my god, shut up." and whined when he kissed at your neck. your panties were around your ankles.

and when he kissed you, you heard the clink of his belt buckle and the zip of his jeans. he loomed over you. he was boarder than you, he could easily overshadow and overpower you. you whined when you felt his cock rub up against your slick entrance.

he said, "aw, look at that. they're kissing." he was talking about his sticky cock up against your slick pussy. the blunt head up against your clit. it made you feel a rush of pleasure through you.

you could feel the excitement, the risk of it all. if some stray reporter came through here or a security guard. you knew what the headlines for the weekend would be.

young, promising driver takes a ride on her team principal.

he sank into your sweet cunt and your ached your back. you let out a small noise and max put a hand over your mouth. your nose was left uncovered so you could breath. his other hand was on your thigh as he rocked against you. he said in a low voice, "you know i love when you're loud, but you have to to stay quiet. you can be a good puppy, right? be a good girl for me."

his praise made something bloom in your stomach as he moved against you. you had a total kink for his praise, that was why you always pushed yourself so hard on the track. it was why you were over a hundred points ahead of the second place racer. you thrived off of it, to have someone like max give you praise.

you moaned against his hand, your voice muffled as he rocked against you. his cock slotted in you so well. you exhaled deeply through your nose. you couldn't feel your headband anymore and hair got in your face as he fucked you in such a public space.

"fuck." he groaned, "you have no idea what you do to me.' he moved against you further, "i never know i liked costumes. maybe next year, you should go as me." he chuckled as he curved over you and got at a deeper angle, "but i sort of like you in a collar better."

you groaned and reached for his shoulders. you clutched onto his shoulder tightly. his cock hit up against the softest parts of you and it made you see stars. you panted heavily and tried to keep quiet even though max's hand was good at muffling most of the noise.

you pretty painted black nails dug into his shoulders through the verstappen racing t-shirt he wore. you looked good with his logo across your chest, but he looked just as nice in a black t-shirt.

hunger ran through you as he fucked your feverishly. there was no time for tenderness. while he loved taking you apart with his tongue and fingers. there really was no time to waste.

you felt the heat on your body, your costume stuck to you in a weird way. the blank tag on your collar bounced with the movements of your boss' thrusts. something about this felt wrong, it was wrong. you were certain there had been casual affairs throughout the decades of formula one.

but nothing quite like this. the protege of one of the greatest being fucked by her boss. your pretty tits bounced with a whorish movements as she got railed in the paddock of her team. quite the scandal if it got out.

most thought you fucked your way to the top. but, in all fairness, max saw how you drove before he saw the sway of your hips. he valued your skill more than your ability to suck his cock or take his thick fingers in your slick pussy.

you were his champion, sex was just a component of it. he took your virginity, and you gave him the points he needed to win. you tightened your legs around him as he continued to drill his cock into you. the pace increased as you felt the swarm of pleasure in your head.

you weren't going to the party tonight. you could already tell.

"next time." he said, "i'll get you a proper collar. something a little more padded. with a tag with my name on it. if you're going to be my puppy then, you'll have to look the party. don't worry about a tail or ears. you'll do just fine in lacy lingerie that i can tear off with my teeth."

you swallowed, your cunt clenched around him as he continued to fuck you with a heavy pace. your felt any sense go out your ear, fully engulfed by the heat between you two. max knew how to make you feel good, he knew exactly how to get your yearning for more. if you were a puppy then he was the big, bad wolf.

you whined around his hand and he pressed his palm further against you. he shushed you and held onto your hip tighter as he thrusted against you. he watched your eyes roll a little from the pleasure of the entire situation.

he could feel the leap in his chest and the sweat on his back. he didn't often fuck you in such a public place. but he couldn't help himself. you got to prance off to some luxury party hosted by drivers of another team. you were going to be with liquor, boys and whatever else money could buy.

of course he was going to be concerned about his darling driver. his superstar. after all, he had high expectations for you. you were going to be the best if you weren't already. and he wasn't going let you ruin it over some cheap shots and boys with small packages. he knew you needed someone older, someone like him.

the pace became faster, erratic with little formalities. there was little rhythm to it as his cock kissed the hottest parts of you. the parts that made you pant under his hand. your gaze became unfocused and your blood pumped in your ears.

you clutched onto him and whined something that max couldn't hear. he replaced his hand with his lips. the kiss was hot as you held onto him tightly. it was all too much, the pleasure crossed through you like a heated sword and you came around his cock.

he groaned when you clenched around him. your nails dug into his skin. it only fueled his need to fuck you harder. while not the most ideal position. he'd make due. when you broke the kiss, you panted heavily with your gaze unfocused. you looked whorish, but max loved it.

the pace continued, and max made sure that your body was wracked with more lust as he continued to fuck you. he cursed in dutch under his breath as he gave it a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you.

you both moaned a little louder than you hoped for. you leaned forward against him. your pressed your cheek against his clothed chest as you tried to catch your breath.

max composed himself quickly and combed his fingers through your hair tenderly. he groaned, "good, puppy."

you looked up at him and asked, "can i go to the party tonight?"

he chuckled and patted your cheek with a little force. he chuckled, "cute. no, no. you're going to get your messy panties back on and we're going back to the hotel. i'm not letting a good puppy like you get into trouble." he pinched your cheek which made you whine.

"plus, i think you need some more training."

-

the following morning, your teammate was walking through the paddock beside you. the two of you were chatting, but your stomach dropped when he looked over and noticed something over one of the boxes.

you two stopped and before your teammate could say a word. your teammate pointed at the headband. you felt a cold sweat as he asked, "are those... dog ears?" then looked at you, "those look like the ones you were supposed to wear to the party last night... you never came to that."

you chuckled nervously, "well, i got tired... but mine are in my hotel room." you heard whistling and looked over to see your team principal walking by. you called for max, "max, isn't my costume in my hotel room."

he perked up and looked over. he pointed to the headband on the box and replied, "oh no.. those are yours." your boss broke into a grin. and your eyes went wide as he walked away.

you could feel your ears burn as your teammate asked.

"where were you last night anyway?" <3

this is part of the max verstappen team principal au

[earthchica]

Right My Wrongs

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: You and Terry had a good co-parenting relationship until he started dating a woman named Olivia who disrupted that dynamic.

warning: ANGST, toxic behavior, foul language, heartbreak, mention of fwb, mention of unexpected pregnancy, complicated situation, co-parenting, six-year-old daughter, name calling &, etc.

note: I was a little nervous about posting this, but here we go. Terry is an asshole in this; I'm sorry, lol. Part 2 will be out tomorrow; please let me know what you think.

series masterlist

You woke up suddenly to the sound of loud, urgent banging on your front door.

You glanced down at your daughter, still peacefully sleeping beside you.

You recall her coming into your bedroom because she had a bad dream.

With a weary groan, you glanced at the clock: it was almost midnight, and another knock reverberated at the front door.

You hurriedly got up, wrapped your robe around yourself, and slipped on your slippers to dash downstairs to the door.

Before opening the door, you looked through the peephole and saw that it was Terry.

He looked very upset; you immediately swung the door open and greeted him with a comforting expression.

"Terry... hey. Is everything alright?" you asked with a furrowed brow, your eyes filled with concern.

He looked up from his position and took a moment to meet your gaze before coming inside.

"She kicked me out." Terry expressed with irritation in his tone.

Oh, that bitch...Olivia.

You didn't know what Terry saw in her. She constantly causes him pain and breaks his heart, leaving you to mend the fragments every single time.

You have longed to express your true feelings to Terry and reveal the love nestled within your heart.

However, you knew it might never happen because Terry never gave you the impression that he saw you that way.

You and Terry were just friends, but your friendship blossomed into something sexual, leading to a complicated entanglement.

One night of unprotected sex resulted in an unexpected pregnancy.

You told Terry the news immediately, and he promised to be there for you and the baby.

Six years later, you two are raising a sweet, beautiful little girl named Jasmine.

She was a great mix of both of you: she inherited your beautiful nose and almond-shaped eyes while having her father's smile and eye color.

You and Terry maintained a strong friendship and a healthy co-parenting relationship until now.

He wasn't the man you once knew; she was transforming him into someone unrecognizable.

It was alarming you more than you'd like.

"Fuck, man. I give her everything she wants, and she always ends up fucking me over. What the fuck did I do to deserve this bullshit" Terry uttered, taking deliberate steps as he advanced toward the inviting comfort of the living room.

You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders, before gently closing the door behind you.

Slowly, you approached him on the couch, ready to offer your comforting presence.

"You did nothing wrong, Terry. She doesn't deserve you; you deserve so much better. Like, for real, T... when will you wake up and see that?" you asked, placing your hand on his shoulder.

"I know....I know....It's just..." he says, his gaze intense as he looks at you with those piercing eyes.

"You love her?" You asked with a frustrated sigh.

"I do. I wish I didn't. I wish I could hate her, but I can't," Terry confessed.

"I'm sorry, Terry, but this isn't love. Love shouldn't hurt and leave you heartbroken. You deserve someone who makes you happy, makes you feel loved, and allows you to be yourself. Does she do that for you?" You asked.

With a deep breath, he shook his head. "No, she doesn't. Maybe you're right. I'm done dealing with her bullshit." He then offered a slight smile in your direction.

"Thanks, baby girl. I'm grateful to have such a great friend like you to lean on. Thanks for dealing with me and bullshit," He says, pulling you into a comforting hug.

"Yup! Let me get you some blankets," you said, quickly getting up to go to the hallway closet.

"Mommy?" You heard the sweet, melodic sound of your daughter's voice echoing from the top of the stairs.

Jasmine descended the stairs, wearing her cute bonnet and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

She looks at you first before turning to Terry, a slight smile growing on her face.

"Daddy!" She rushed over to him and hugged him, which caused Terry to burst into laughter.

"Hey, princess," he whispers softly, leaning in to gently kiss her forehead.

"Hi...daddy! What are you doing here?" she asked curiously, laying her head on his chest.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye as he lightly tickled her side, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles.

"No," she said emphatically, shaking her head.

"I'm always genuinely happy to see you," she explained with a warm smile, her words clear and sincere.

She was six years old, and always so sweet and expressive when she spoke her thoughts.

"I know, princess, and I'm always happy to see you. Your mom is letting me stay here, right?"

"Really? Mommy, is Daddy really staying over?" She asked, turning her gaze toward you.

"Yeah, sweetie. Just for the night. Now come on, let-" Jasmine excitedly interrupted you.

"Yayyy! Come on...daddy." She tightly grasps his large hand with her delicate, tiny fingers and eagerly pulls him into your bedroom.

You were about to intervene but decided to let it go because you were too tired to make a fuss.

You entered the bedroom to find Jasmine already asleep, cuddled into Terry's chest while his arm caressed her.

"I'm sorry. I hope this is okay. I can leave and sleep on the couch," he said with a tired expression.

"No, we don't want to wake her again. It's fine. Just get some sleep," you said with a yawn, getting into bed and trying to get comfortable in the blankets.

It was morning, and you woke up to find Jasmine sleeping on your arm, but Terry was not there.

You heard your phone ding; look to see that exact text. You were beyond pissed off.

Terry: Good morning! I'm sorry I left you and Jazzy like that. Liv called me, and we talked about everything. We're good again.

You didn't even reply to his text; you were in such disbelief at how he was so pussy whipped over this girl.

You knew you shouldn't be surprised; it was nothing new. Maybe you thought your words would finally reach him, and he would wake up.

You were so wrong.

It's been a few weeks since then, and you were coming to his place to pick up Jasmine after her week with him.

You exited the car and walked to buzz yourself into his apartment building.

You arrived at the fourth floor and knocked on his door. It slowly swung open, and Terry stood on the other side.

His face contorted in irritation, but just as quickly, a sense of ease washed over him when he saw it was you. "Hey, you!"

"Hi," You said coldly, pushing your way into his apartment, catching him off guard.

"Uh...how are you?" Terry asked as he closed the front door, then proceeded to follow you into the inviting living room.

"Good! Where's jazzy?" You responded with a brief answer, glancing around the room in search of your daughter.

"She's taking a nap. You good?" Terry asked, gazing at you with a touch of worry.

"Yup," you replied with a forced smile, concealing your true feelings.

You mistook the sound for Jasmine, but it was actually Olivia, which made you angry.

Terry had previously agreed not to have Olivia over when your daughter stayed with him.

This was it, you were fucking done.

Olivia enthusiastically greets Terry with a sloppy kiss, leaving a glossy on his lips before shooting you an irritated glance.

"Terry, what the hell is she doing here?" With arms crossed and a furious glare, you demanded his answer.

"I'm his girlfriend; I have every right to be," She explains, giving you a little attitude.

"Trick, I'm not fucking talking to you. I'm talking to Terry, the father of my child. Why don't you go, and make some tea while the grown-ups talk, okay?" You said with an intimidating gaze.

"Whatever, Terry will set you straight," She replied, rolling her eyes before heading into the kitchen to make some tea.

Terry gazed at you with a hint of irritation etched on his face and then spoke the words.

"What the fuck was that? You didn't have to talk to her like that," He asked with a frown.

"Why did you have this girl here...around my child when we agreed not to do that."

"It just happened; it's not a big deal. Olivia wanted to meet her, and I know I should've told you. I apologize," Terry said with a shrug.

"I don't give a rat's fucking ass...If she wants to meet her, you come to me first with this. Now go behind my back." You said with a look of intense anger etched on your face.

"Damn, woman. I fucking apologized, can you let it go? This shit ain't that serious," Terry sighed with frustration.

"It is fucking serious, Terry. This bitch got you so pussy whipped; you have lost who you are, your morals, and respect," You yelled, catching him completely off guard.

"What did you call her say?"

"You heard me. You are with a narcissistic, egotistical, manipulative ass bitch who doesn't treat you the way you deserve to be treated. She's changed you to fit her fantasy, and you're too fucking stupid to see it."

"Look...I don't appreciate you coming in here and talking-"

"I'm not done talking. You never seem to listen to me. This thing you think is love between you and her is not Terry. The man I once knew wouldn't tolerate this disrespect," You said, frustrated, uncrossing your arms.

"Look....It's none of your fucking business. You're just my baby mama," Terry said, clenching his jaw.

"Fuck you! You sure did make it my fucking business when you kept running your black ass to me whenever she did something wrong, but you know what? You're right. I'm nothing more than just your baby mama."

You found yourself overwhelmed with emotion, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to continue speaking.

"So I'm done with this; I'm done with you. I'm done being the shoulder you cry on, I'm so fucking done being in love with you and knowing I can't have you. I've been wasting my fucking time dreaming about us being a real family. I don't know why I thought you would wake up and see what's right in front of you. I guess that's my own damn fault," you cried.

Terry's heart dropped at your words, and emotion quickly washed over him.

His eyes were outstretched as he uttered your name and approached you, but Olivia stopped him.

"Let her go," Olivia said, wrapping her arms around his waist. You shake your head, rushing to get your daughter from another room.

She was napping, you are glad she didn't hear the yelling coming from the living room.

As you hurriedly gathered Jasmine's belongings, you couldn't help but overhear Terry and Olivia's arguing.

You swiftly picked her up gently without wasting any time and left the room.

Terry sat on the couch, his face in his hands, while Olivia was nowhere to be found, but you didn't care.

His eyes met yours, filled with a deep sense of regret. "I'm sorry...baby girl. I fucked up...I made Olivia leave. Don't leave, Let's talk, please,"

"No...I'm done, Terry. I made up my mind...Our communication will be strictly only about Jasmine, nothing more. Now let me go." You said that in a calmer tone of voice.

He didn't even put up a fight, which hurt a little. You stepped out of the door, making your way down the hall.

You exited the apartment building and went to your car. After securing Jasmine in her car seat, you closed the car door.

You got into the car, started the engine, and drove away with tears in your eyes.

You need to do this for your own well-being.

You couldn't be consumed by stress related to him and the current situation.

It's time to shift your focus towards prioritizing what is most beneficial for you.

It's been a month since you disconnected from Terry and his relationship issues, and you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders.

You still allow him to spend time with his daughter every other week, even after what he said to you.

You were not going to be the type of baby mother to raise hell and prevent him from seeing his child.

Terry was waiting for you to arrive at your house. He knew he had fucked up pretty badly by hurting you and disrespecting you.

His best friend and the mother of his child, out of all people in the world.

You both struggled to communicate feelings, so he was confused and surprised when you revealed your love.

He wasn't sure if he felt the same, but he was determined to apologize and make things right with you.

You were driving home just after dropping Jasmine off at your parents.

You needed some time to yourself, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

You roll your eyes when you see Terry sitting on your porch with a bouquet of flowers.

"What are you doing here, Terry?" You asked, walking towards him with a frown.

"I wanted to check on you, but you haven't answered my calls. I was a little worried. Where's Jazzy?" He inquired, rising from the porch steps."

"She's fine, I'm fine. She's at my parents' house, and you can go now," you explained shortly.

"Baby girl, please don't be like that. I fucked up, I know, and I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you. I broke up with Oliva...she's gone, out of the fucking picture. You were right; you were always right. I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," He speaks with genuine sincerity.

You let out a deep sigh and raised your eyes to the sky, feeling a mix of emotions.

"I forgive you, Terry, but...I meant every word I said. I'm done. It's just too painful for me. I'll be cordial with you when Jasmine is around, but outside of that, I'm done."

"I will respect that. I just have to ask why you didn't say anything before," he said, curious.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Terry. All that matters is raising Jazzy," you said coldly.

Terry looks down at the ground, disappointed with himself with an understanding nod.

Before walking away, he handed you the bouquet of your favorite flowers and whispered, "I'm sorry," once more.

You took a deep breath as you walked to the front door. "It's for the best," you thought to yourself.

[kooktrash]

guys my age | jeon jungkook

summary: a summer spent at your friend’s place wasn’t something to be anything to look forward to. her hot, young dad would seem to change that for you when you decide a game of teasing would suffice your boredom. you got more than you bargained for when you realize he’s not a fan of games.

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, summer house, smut, age gap [38 & 21] pent up sexual frustration

warnings: 9.5K words. smüt. 6 9 position [ oral f & m receiving] use of protection. roūgh missionary. they go like three rounds. reader gets on top. dirty talk, use of ‘little girl, slüt, etc but lightly] y/n is a man eater lowkey. jk wants to resist but he can’t lol. y/n is rich and spoiled, Y2K style. big bOobs lol. y/n is besties with jk’s daughter. stays at summer home. y/n is a cöçk tease. always teasing him. lawyer jk, with tattoos and piercing. y/n has bellybutton piercing

song inspo: cola — lana del rey [i got a taste for men who are older] affection — abra [did you close your eyes and think about me like I think about you?] guys my age — hey violet

Illicit Desires | DILF!Jungkook collab

The blaring sun burned against your skin, your patience running thin the longer you waited outside. A key was being jammed into the doorknob with no luck to actually get it to function. You were tired, hot, and hungry—never a good mix when it came to your mood. Your feet hurt from the kitten heels you wore and the black handle of your suitcase was getting hot with the summer heat.

“Hurry up,” you whined, a manicured hand with long pink nails waving in an attempt to fan yourself. Only seconds later the click of the lock was heard and the door was opening. You and the person in front of you groaned in relief and you were trudging inside the large house you’d be spending your summer at.

“My dad’s not home so we’ve got the place to ourselves for a couple hours, what should we do?” Your friend, Jieun, asked once the two of you made it to the stairs to take your things to her room. You gave a shrug in response, “I don’t know, I’m hot, I can’t think.”

“Oh, so you think you’re hot?” She joked with you knowing that was not at all what you meant but you winked at her anyway. Your gum smacked with each chew as you looked around her bedroom that looked fit for a teen which made sense since she’s been rooming with you in the dorms for the last two years.

“I thought you didn’t like your daddy,” you were teasing but also serious when you sat on her bed, skirt shifting to show more thigh. Jieun just sighed, opening her drawers to pull out a bikini, “It’s complicated. The divorce with my mom was ugly and it was only three years ago. I was a teen so I held a lot of resentment toward him and her.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cheated?” You asked curiously as she passed you your smaller bag for you to fish out a bikini. Jieun nodded, “Yeah, I know but my dad was always busy. Always gone for work and I don’t know, 17 year old me wished he was around more so she wouldn’t feel so lonely.”

You let the subject go in order to change out of your clothes that had been way too hot for the heat and into something way too small. A hot pink bikini with small triangles covering your breasts and a small pair of bottoms with silver links to hold it together. Jieun directed you outside and she went to get drinks and snacks for you two before joining you. You managed to pull a heart shaped floaty toward you and laid inside of it with your legs hanging out the side and a cherry coke in your hand.

“Is your dad hot?” You asked looking over your sunglasses as they hung low on your nose bridge. Jieun rolled her eyes as you passed her the donut floaty.

“Don’t ask me,” Jieun said as she finally made it on, “And leave my dad alone, the old men you like are sad.”

“Whatever, I was just asking,” you laughed, “And I’ll have you know I prefer them younger.”

She just rolled her eyes moving next to you and the two of you floated in the pool for a good while before dropping yourselves into the cold water. You played only one round of mermaids until you swear you died and came back to life.

At the sliding door stood a man, a very attractive older man dressed in a forest green matching shirt and shorts that could pass as pajamas. His shirt was slightly transparent but unfortunately you couldn’t see much. He slid the glass door open coming out with a pair of black sunglasses that he pushed up to his hair. Jieun turned to look at what you’d been staring at and she waved a hand, “Hey.”

The man’s eyes swept back to you, “Hey.” Jieun swam to the edge of the pool pulling herself up with absolutely no grace and pointed to you, “This is my roommate Y/n, she’s staying with us this summer.”

“Oh really?” He asked looking to her, “I don’t remember you telling me about this.”

She just shrugged, taking her towel and stretching one out for you to grab. You dragged yourself to the edge of the pool before placing your hands on the edge and pulling yourself up in one go. You didn’t notice the way Jieun’s dad watched the water cascade down your breasts to your stomach and thighs until you dragged yourself up. You took the towel from Jieun and dried yourself off looking back to him, “Hello Mr. Jeon, I’m Y/n, Jieun’s roommate for the past two years.”

You placed your hand in his as greeting and he gave it a firm shake, “Call me Jungkook, has Jieun gotten you set up in the guest room?”

The three of you went upstairs and for some reason you felt the need to walk with a sway in your steps knowing Jieun’s dad was behind you. You also knew you shouldn’t be doing that in just a towel and very skimpy bikini but you didn’t care. You knew in the back of your mind Jieun was one of your best friends and thinking her dad is hot should be weird. You also knew you were going to do what you want anyway and if that was planning a little game for the summer you were going to do it.

In truth, you were a very spoiled person. You came from money and your dad never thought twice about doing what you wanted so obviously you would be spoiled. You didn’t care about the consequences, you just did what you wanted because it was fun. It wasn’t going to be anything serious anyway and it’s only your first day staying here and you had to entertain yourself some way if Jieun wasn’t around.

“Thank you for letting me stay Mr. Jeon, I wouldn’t have had anywhere to go for the summer,” you said once it was just you and him after getting changed. He was bringing in blankets and pillows for you. He stopped to look at you, eyes threatening to trail down your body again but he forced himself to only look at your face, “It’s no problem, did your parents not let you stay with them?”

“They’re away for the summer,” you told him leaning against the back wall as he put the bed sheets on the bed you’d be sleeping on, “They didn’t want me in that big house all by myself for three months.”

“Maybe they don’t trust you,” he said with a small smile trying to make himself feel comfortable around his daughter’s friends. It is very hard to not think about the girl in his house that was so physically attractive it had him anxious. It just wasn’t a good idea to think about a girl his daughter’s age. You had no idea he had these thoughts, all you knew was that you were in the mood to talk, “They don’t, I’m not always the best behaved.”

“In my house, I hope you’ll behave,” he let the words slip before he could stop himself. They sounded more flirty than he meant them to when in reality he just hoped for no trouble with you. You weren’t making this easy when you tilted your head to the side and batted your lashes, “Keep a close eye on me and maybe I will.”

Jungkook seemed to freeze for a moment, his hand fixing the fitted sheet and using his sudden tension to stuff the fabric into the frame. It was silent and when Jieun came up looking at you, “I ordered pizza.”

“Yum,” you smiled cheerfully, “Are you joining us, Mr. Jeon?”

You stood at the doorway facing the stairs but turning your head back to look at him. He was already walking behind you and when you got to the stairs, his hand touched your back lightly. He stared forward, looking distant as he said, “I have to keep an eye on you, don’t I?” With that he looked to you quickly before looking ahead.

The first few days you barely had a chance to see him, you mostly hung out with Jieun and went out with friends. He was up early and got home late so you didn’t see him often. Tonight though, you’ve gotten lucky. Jieun has a date tonight with her boyfriend and she’d be staying the night at his house. Now you would be home alone until Jungkook came home and sometimes it’s not till late evening.

So you spent pretty much all day, after noon, by yourself trying to quench your boredom doing anything you could. Now you’re outside again tanning by the pool, or attempting to. The sun was already setting so there wasn’t much left and yet you remained outside.

“Jungkook, man, are you even listening right now?” A voice boomed through the speaker of his cellphone. He could barely make out the person’s voice as he held his phone away in a trance. His attention was elsewhere, somewhere he shouldn’t be focusing on, but he was.

It was hard not to stare at the view just on the other side of the sliding door. This time you were in yellow. A bright pastel that had a silver heart ring holding your top together at your breasts. From here he could see the belly button ring you had and you just looked… like sin. He was too lost to notice the way you pushed your glasses down to stare back at him. It wasn’t until you gave a little wave that he snapped out of it.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he muttered back to Taehyung as he went back to the kitchen to at least pretend like he wasn’t watching you. It was wrong, you were his daughter’s age but you just looked so damn good. And you know you’re attractive, you know that just one look and someone would squirm and currently that’s him. He has no business being 38 watching a girl who is barely 21 and thinking about the way your bottoms hugged your ass that he catches himself looking at from time to time.

His hand ruffled his hair in an attempt to shake the thought of you away, “But I should go, I’ve gotta start dinner.”

“Oh, but I wanted to know how it’s been having Jieun back? Does she come home for dinner everyday?” Jimin asked, still trying to keep a conversation going but then you came in. The tiniest denim shorts on with the button and fly open showing off your stomach and a small triangle of the yellow bottoms. You seemed to forget a shirt, sauntering into the kitchen in just the tiny bikini top and shorts, a pretty smile on your face, “You’re home, I was feeling lonely.”

His phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Snap out of it, Jungkook, he’s reacting nervously around you and he shouldn’t.

“I’m about to start dinner,” was all he said to you before continuing his conversation with Jimin, “It’s been good but she’s not home today. She’s spending her night with Yoongi.”

You sat at the island leaning against the marble counter, pressing your chest into it and his eyes flickered to the way they seemed to bulge even more than usual. Oh God.

He could see small, hard buds through the fabric, “Jimin I’ve gotta go, I’m going to start cooking.” He needs a cold shower, like now.

“Or we can order,” You said once he was off the phone, “I’m sure you’ve had a long, hard… what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Day?��� the word came out in a stutter that had his neck heating up in embarrassment. Why was he getting flustered? He’s had very little interaction with a woman consistently, aside from the women at work and they were nothing like you. They wore gray pencil skirts and white button ups—not yellow bikinis where he could see your hardened nipples poking out. This doesn’t mean he hasn’t had opportunities to date in the last three years but with his divorce and busy with work all the time he didn’t go out. He was a boring man in his eyes.

You flashed him an innocent smile that he’s not sure he believed, “Then I’ll treat you to dinner tonight, a thank you for letting me stay. Should I call and order?” Unsure of what would come out if he opened his mouth, he just gave a subtle nod.

“I’m going to shower while we wait,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. You told him okay, ordered, and then showered yourself.

For dinner you had Italian and you were fully dressed now—still not enough for his prying eyes—but enough for him to focus on his food. He hates to admit that he’s way too curious tonight to ask questions, “What are your thoughts on Yoongi? Does he treat Jieun right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a light bite on your lip, “The sweetest, perfect for her.”

“For her? Wouldn’t everyone want a sweet guy?” He’s not sure why he asked or why he was curious to see what you’d say. All he knew was that his plate of food was no longer being eaten, and instead played with by scraping his fork against it. He avoided your eyes and you loved every second of it. He was just so cute getting nervous by a younger woman like you. It’s just too tempting to wanna make him squirm. A big, bad man like him falling underway by your teasing.

“I like them a little meaner, a little more authoritative,” you said looking up at him, “Like the ones who can put me in my place when I’m being difficult.”

“Hm,” he hummed in thought looking into your eyes, “Difficult?”

“Yes, I have a tendency to want what I want and find a way to get it,” you told him, voice more assertive, “And if I don’t get it, I become a huge brat.”

“So someone who can handle you?”

“Yes, but I’m a lot to handle, Jungkook,” you said his name laced with lust and if he said it didn’t go straight to his flaccid member, he’d be lying. He took a big drink from his glass of wine, “I’m sure someone is up for the task.”

“I hope so, I can get very impatient,” you raise your glass to your lips to drink, your eyes locked with his. With that you stood up with your plate, “Are you done?”

He gave a silent nod, not trusting himself to bite back a comment about how he has no patience for teasing. He’s not even sure those would be the exact words he’d say, or if he’d say how capable he is of putting someone in their place. You took his plate and washed them before excusing yourself to your bedroom to answer some call. He caught a small glimpse of the name already calling you and it was a man.

It’s been two weeks. Two hard weeks of forcing himself to not think about his daughter’s friend, but it’s been so damn difficult that you’re clouding his vision. All the looks you sent his way whenever you were with Jieun or the little comments you’d make that had his head spinning in guilt and lust. It’s been too long since he’s slept with a woman and anytime he sees you, he’s reminded of it. Like right now.

He was supposed to be working on a case with his partner, Namjoon, but he was distracted. They worked at the kitchen table but then you came in with a short, fitted black dress that barely covered your butt. Even Namjoon seemed to turn and stare when you opened the fridge and bent down at the waist to look inside. Jungkook’s head rested on his palm as he watched, half hoping your dress would rise just a little more but it didn’t, sadly. He was supposed to be doing all the paperwork that laid across the dinner table, not stare at you rummaging through the fridge.

You pulled out a bottle of pineapple juice, sipping from a straw as Jieun came down just a little more dressed down as she asked, “Is he almost here?”

Jungkook snapped his attention back to you in confusion. Is who almost here? “Are the two of you going out with Yoongi?”

“I am, Y/n’s meeting up with a guy, so lucky you dad, you might get the house to yourself,” Jieun said putting a hand on his shoulder waving a greeting to Namjoon, her father’s friend.

“Don’t miss us too much,” you teased, making him look back at you. “How well do you know this guy?”

“Just enough, we had a couple classes together,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders still sipping on the pineapple juice. He’s sure the taste of the fruit would remain in your body for hours.

Jieun laughed, “Y/n doesn’t need to know him well for her plans tonight.”

You sent her a wink that Jungkook caught and he’d be lying if he said a small part of him didn’t feel… jealous? Upset? Annoyed? All of the above? He doesn’t want both of you gone, he’s gotten used to a full house and he doesn’t want to feel lonely again. Jieun he can understand, she’s seeing her boyfriend but you… you’re not in a relationship. You don’t have any obligation to another man so why can’t you stay home. Despite all the women who notice him, he seems to have a love/hate relationship with the attention you gave him. Part of him wanted nothing to do with you in that sense, but the other was enough to boost his ego. Despite his age he was clearly attractive enough to gain the attention of a 21 year old used to college guys. So, no, he doesn’t want you to go out with one of those guys and remember that Jungkook was a boring lawyer and father of your friend.

“Well he’s outside,” you said looking at your phone, “I guess I’ll head out now.” Jieun joined you when Yoongi sent her the same text and you two were leaving.

“How are you living with that unaffected?” Namjoon finally said once the two of you were out the door. Jungkook shook his head, “I’m not.”

Long after Namjoon left, Jungkook found himself still awake working in his office. It had to be around midnight and he didn’t feel tired, he felt anxious. It stresses him out because why on earth does he feel anxious? He should feel relieved to have time to himself but he doesn’t. He’s currently staring at the clock every five damn minutes. Jieun won’t be coming home, he knows that, but now it looks like you aren’t either.

He shouldn’t care about his daughter’s friend but something about you just draws him in. You were like a succubus in his eyes, a beautiful girl who can draw anyone in and even he fell victim to it. It’s so wrong, you’re too young, you’re his daughter’s friend. But you’re so damn enticing, like every little thing about you. From the way you chew your gum while looking at him to the sway in your hips when you walk. The way you batted your pretty long lashes when you’d ask how his night went. You make little comments that he swears were suggestive that he knew he shouldn’t like, but he does. It makes him blush, honestly.

He knows he’s an attractive man. He’s fit, he’s got the looks, money, age. He has tattoos and piercings and he’s clean. He knows that women at the store try to flirt with him in line. The ones at work always have some favor to ask or some help they need. When he’s at the gym he feels eyes on him but none of it matters. Jungkook has thought about going on dates when he’s been asked and lately he’s been thinking about trying again but he just doesn’t know if he should.

At his age, is it even worth it anymore? His wife of eighteen years cheated on him just three years ago. He doesn’t think about her outside of when it has to do with Jieun but still. That’s the last woman he’s been with, it’s not like he’s your age.

You’re young and a very attractive person. You’ve got the smile, the confidence, the looks, the humor. Honestly, he could go on. He’s thought about it before, you have a way of drawing someone in and clearly it was true. If you’re on a date then obviously you know how to get someone interested, especially if Jieun always jokes about how you string these boys along. Actually, he’s not even sure if what you’re doing now is part of the date.

It’s too late for dinner. That could only mean one thing, you were probably at the guy’s place or maybe a hotel room. If that was the case then clearly you could only be doing one thing. That thought alone was enough to make him stiffen in his chair. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the things you were doing in your little black dress, or even with it off.

Jungkook knows what your body looks like under that dress. He knows that you have a little tattoo on your hip that was only noticeable when you wear one of your tiny bikinis. And god, he shouldn’t, but he feels so damn envious of whoever gets to see what lies under those poor excuses for bikinis. He can only imagine what man you’re with, what hands are touching down your naked body.

The look in your eyes when a certain spot was touched, maybe your back would arch and your hips would buck. Maybe you were sensitive, so damn sensitive that when Jungkook first gets his hands on you, you’ll be dripping in your panties—if you wore any.

Wait.

Fuck.

When did this become an imagination of him being the one touching your body? His jeans seemed to tighten, his member growing more erect with each passing image of you under him. Falling apart with his teasing this time, batting your eyelashes at him like an innocent, sweet girl, when you were anything but. The things he could do to you, teach your body so many different sensations that only he could bring you—

“Mr. Jeon.”

His entire body froze, even the small pulse of his hard length at the sound of your voice. Jungkook snapped his eyes to the door of his office, now more open than before with you standing there looking like a walking sin.

You just called him Mr. Jeon and it seemed to send him back to reality about the fact you were much younger than him. Not only that but a friend of his daughter’s.

“Y/n,” he cleared his throat, shifting in his chair awkwardly, “When did you get home?” Could he call it that? Call it your home when you both know it really isn’t. You giggle softly, pushing off the wall sauntering over to his desk with a little sway.

“Just now, I didn’t want to wake you,” you moved around his desk making him more anxious by the second. He was suddenly too aware of the bulge between his legs due to his perverse thoughts. His hand was suddenly on his lap trying to hide himself when you leaned against the desk, right next to him. Your hands on the wooden table supporting your weight, “But you weren’t even sleeping. Why are you up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Jungkook looked into your eyes when you frowned. Your face looked flush, eyes a little red and nose puffy. You had a lazy smile, “And here I thought you were waiting up for me.”

“I didn’t even know if you’d be back,” he looked away when you pushed off the desk, shifting his eyes back to his abandoned files. He kept his gaze stuck on it as you walked behind him with a hand on his shoulder, before there were two. His breath hitched as your hands touched his shoulders. You leaned against his back just briefly and he could smell the alcohol on you. It made him tense and he could feel his back muscles twitch. Your palms flattened against his shoulders before sliding them down toward his collarbone as you said, “I bet that worried you. Not knowing what I might be doing, who I might be with.”

He didn’t say anything, eyes failing to stay open when the fabric of his button up shifted against his skin with each drag of your hands across his shoulders, “What are you doing?”

You just smiled looking down at him. You couldn’t see his face but you could see the angle of his head hanging low. You could see the clenched fist around a fountain pen and an arm conveniently placed on his lap. “You just seem so stressed lately. I want to help you relax.”

“Oh,” his voice strained when you nearly closed your hands around his neck, the unbuttoned top of his shirt nearly exposing more of his chest than he wanted it to. “Y/n.”

He needs it to stop.

This needs to stop.

Now. He could feel it, he was very close to snapping. This isn’t right, not at all. But it’s not entirely wrong and it’s all just confusing him and his dick. He had to think of something else but he didn’t want to tell you to stop touching him even if he knows he should.

“How was your date?” He asked, probably one of the worst things to ask but he did so anyway. You didn’t stop your movements, unaware of the way his lips parted when your nails scraped along his chest. God, it felt so damn good to be touched. It was all he could think about and he didn’t want it to be.

“It wasn’t a date,” you told him, continuing your massage, “We went for drinks and, no, nevermind, I won’t say.” You ended with a deep sigh that had him whipping around to stare at you.

“And?” He asked, finally exposing himself to you with disheveled hair, lust blown eyes, and a wrinkled button up. “What else did you do?”

As he asked and his eyes fell upon your neck, something was building up within him. The sight of the small red mark on your neck, “Well?” His voice was deeper, more stern and definitely not happy. He was jealous and you knew it.

“So you were worried,” you giggled, “Were you thinking about it all night? What I might be doing?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny it but he did look away as if he’d been caught. He couldn’t face you but that didn’t stop you from pushing. This was like the red button.

You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing.

“Well…” you took a long sigh, a soft moan in thought, “After the drinks we went back to his place and well, you know how that goes.”

“Hm,” was all he said and you stopped running your hands along his shoulders. For some reason he was disappointed that you did. You just smiled, “That’s all I can say unfortunately, I missed you too much to stay the night so I got an Uber and came home.”

“Y/n,” his voice was firm but the hair on his arms rose at the raspy tone of your sleepy voice, “What are you doing?”

“Having a conversation with you,” you told him simply as you moved back against his desk, his knee so close to your leg as his chair spun out just a little. His eyes narrowed, “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t think I do,” even as you said that you bit your lip, “Why don’t you tell me?”

He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly stressed. He can’t just tell you. What if he’s just imagining your touches? Your innuendos? He’s much older than you and for him to be bringing this up was embarrassing enough. So instead of doing it, he just gave up.

“You should go to bed.”

“Are you going to take me?”

It went quiet and you swear his gaze darkened in an instance. You weren’t sure if he was deciphering every meaning behind your response or if he was debating actually doing it. You wanted him to. Just look at him. Whenever you even think about him, every concern for Jieun as a friend completely slips away. He’s just too damn stunning, too damn perfect. The fact that he was older just made it ten times better.

You looked at the clock behind him before saying, “I guess I’ll go, but I’ll miss talking to you.”

“Y/n,” he grabbed your hand, stopping you from walking away. You looked back at him as he stared down at where your hand was in his. No.

No. Jungkook, don’t even if you really want to at least get a kiss. No.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat preparing himself to talk, “Goodnight.”

You smiled, “Goodnight.”

You left without another word and the second the door shut behind you a breath of relief was pushed out from his stomach to his mouth. “Fuck,” he groaned looking down at his aching member.

He doesn’t think he can resist you the next time.

It happened again a couple nights later. This time around, Jungkook felt even more delusional over it. You were only looking at him but you weren’t being at all appropriate. Especially not now having dinner with Jieun and Yoongi. It was a table of four so he was close to you and God, this was getting harder by the minute—or no, he was.

Your foot was pulling at his pant leg and he had to pretend like it wasn’t affecting him. He listened to you talk to Jieun instead.

“So how was the other night with Jimin?” Yoongi asked you at the dinner table. Jungkook pretended like he wasn’t interested, too focused on his dinner plate. From the corner of his eye is where he watched you. You gave a small shrug, still running your foot past his knee until your leg was on his thigh. He places a hand over your ankle, a small squeeze to try and get you to stop instead of just pushing it away.

His hand was rough with age and work and your foot was smooth. It was big, with long fingers, even his pinky and you wondered what else he could do with them. Jungkook hand began hesitantly caressing your leg as you spoke, “Good, but I’m not going out with him tonight.”

“Someone else?” Yoongi asked as he served you all more food from the middle of the table. You smiled, “Maybe.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he shook your leg off of him. He doesn’t know what you’re trying to do with him but he’s a grown man. If you want to do things with him he’s not going to wait around for you to finish up with another guy. Especially with a guy much younger than him who he knows won’t be able to please you like he could. Just from the way you’ve been acting he knows not everyone can handle you. You’re a cocktease and maybe he’s delusional but he knows you want him. So why are you going on a date with another man?

No.

Why does he care?

Why is he thinking about a girl young enough to be his own daughter? Why is he imagining what you’d look like sitting pretty on his dick. Why doesn’t he care that Jieun is sitting on the other side of him and all he wants is to slide his fingers up your leg and under your skirt. He could if he pulled your chair closer. He really could. He feels guilty but not enough to ignore this anymore, they’re only thoughts anyway. He wouldn’t actually do it… no, never.

“Do you want us to drop you off when we leave?” Jieun asked once dinner had been over. You shook your head, “No, I won’t be with him till later. What time are you getting home?”

“I’m not,” Jieun said, patting Yoongi’s stomach, “Staying at his place.”

“Alright, I’ll probably start getting ready.”

Jungkook went to his office when everyone left. He would do more work tonight, now he’s got all the time in the world apparently.

Once again he was going to be alone in the house.

Once again you were going out with another man.

Once again he finds himself thinking about it and feeling irritated.

Jungkook doesn’t know you have something up your sleeve. He doesn’t know that the whole time you were talking with Jieun all you could think about was how to get her father to fuck you how you’ve been craving all summer.

He couldn’t even concentrate on his case files, he could only think about what you were doing. He hasn’t heard the front door or the sound of your heels clacking on the stairs. You must be in your bedroom trying one one of those tiny little dresses you like to wear.

How was he to know what you were currently doing? Was it through the text he just received with your name displayed. He picked up his phone, unlocked it, and clicked on your message. It was a photo.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, hand running over his face and into his hair as he looked at it. There’s no mistaking what he’s looking at.

You were sitting on his bed wearing the skimpiest slip of black lingerie he’s ever seen. It was a dress, but it wasn’t even enough to cover the black lace panty you wore. His eyes followed the length of your legs, pressed together so elegantly as you posed in front of his large mirror, perched on the edge of his bed. One of your hands was on your lap, keeping the short dress from showing any sliver of underwear. It was your form of teasing, acting like it was innocent and playing it so poorly, but that’s what you were playing at. You knew what you were doing.

Jungkook knew you were bad news the second he saw you in the pool with his daughter. Even before he saw your body, your eyes were seductive. Your tone was always flirty, and he responded to it. God, since the beginning he would react, always giving a little answer to your flirting, always looking when you wanted him to. Even now, his fingers hovered over the keyboard finding it hard to just tell you to stop. He read over the text attached to the photo.

you: should I wear this out tn?

His breath hitched roughly, tension running through his muscles processing your text. You were apparently showing him something you planned on wearing tonight? Asking for his opinion? Sitting on his bed? There’s no way, absolutely no way you’re doing this to him right now. He dropped his phone on the desk and leaned back against his spinning chair. His hands covered his face, easing some tension away in thought. You’re driving him absolutely crazy. How does he even respond to that? He doesn’t.

You might have really done it this time, you’re not even sure what transpired you to act out this way aside from a selfish need to get what you want. This had started as just a way to not get bored during your summer stay and that was all it was supposed to be. It’s not your fault that Jieun’s dad is the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And if things went the way you wanted them too, he would be in the same room as you very soon.

If they didn’t, then it was safe to say you would never show your face around here ever again.

There was a bigger sense of confidence that came with preparing this whole ordeal, but the wait itself broke it down. You were so close to getting up and running out the door when it opened. In walked Jungkook, looking as disheveled as possible but he tried to hold himself together. You looked up at him from your seated position as he took in the sight of you.

“Y/n,” his eyes trailed upwards from your exposed legs to your pretty face. A small choked out groan escaped his lips as he shifted his gaze to the ceiling, “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready?” You asked standing up to look at yourself in the mirror, “How do I look?”

“Y/n,” his voice was stern, turning to face you, “Don’t play with me.” You didn’t bother taking your eyes off your own reflection, capturing his glare through the mirror. “I’m not, Jungkook, I’m just asking a question.”

“Jungkook?” He asked as you finally turned to him, taking a small step closer. He’s so used to hearing you refer to him as Mr. Jeon teasingly that he forgets what it’s like for you to actually say his name. You nodded, standing in front of him, “Or Mr. Jeon?”

He looked down at you now that you were mere inches away from him and he could see the twinkle of mischief in your eyes. You don’t care who he is, you don’t care if he’s older either. He wanted to tell you this was inappropriate and to leave but he would never kick you out. He wouldn’t tell you he didn’t like it either, “Are you wearing this for a boy?”

A boy. Someone younger than him, probably one of those he’s heard you like and it’s not him. He’s a man, he can really show you what it’s like to feel pleasure. You looked down at your slip dress that had him looking down at your exposed cleavage. Without thinking you pressed a finger into his abdomen lightly, “I’d prefer it if it were for a man.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t falter away from yours, the sexual tension at a high as he leaned into the touch of your hand as it lowered. You were so close to him, chest nearly against chest and you were wearing so little. He licked at his dry lips, “Why’s that?”

“Guys my age don’t know how to fuck me, Mr. Jeon.”

In an instance, any thought of putting a stop to this vanished. Every reminder that you weren’t just an attractive younger woman expressing interest in him, vanished. All it took was the soft whisper of your response into his ear for his body to turn to mush. Jungkook barely shifted his head to the side when your lips met his, hungry and fast. His hand pressed into the back of your head, tangling in your hair, to keep you from moving back but you wouldn’t dare. The only moment your lips separated was during the first press of your tongues, meeting in the middle with the slide of spit.

Jungkook couldn’t get enough, the last time he had even kissed a woman, touched one in this manner, it had been a while. A long while that created such intense build-up when you came along making him break. The hand that hadn’t been laced in your hair was touching your waist gently but firm. It was soft but you could tell you wouldn’t be moving away anytime soon. It didn’t stop your fingers from trailing even lower than his abdomen, to the belt on his jeans. With one hand you began to tug on the belt loop, turning your neck as he began to leave wet, needy kisses down your jaw, your back arching from the way he had to bend over you to kiss your neck.

He released a low, breathless grunt at the rough pull of his zipper, hips moving with the force. The arm he had on your waist pressed you to his side when your hand dipped into the waistband of his briefs. His other hand left the back of your head, sliding down toward your neck, releasing a short moan, “Y/n.”

It has been too long. Too damn long since the last time a woman touched him. No, it’s been long since he let a woman touch him. Jungkook always had many opportunities to see someone but he never did it. He never seeked anyone out for sex, he just let himself take care of his own needs and feel unsatisfied. Now he’s letting someone young enough to be his daughter put their hand on his dick.

And it felt so fucking good. Jungkook stopped his attack on your neck to take a proper inhale, trying to keep himself under control as you palmed his naked member. Your fingers wrapped around his thick length giving him a soft stroke. You kissed down the expanse of his neck feeling the vibrations of his low groan. Your palm hugged the head of his cock, twisting your wrist and smearing it in his own precum. Your fingers brushed along the underside of his tip and he couldn’t wait. He wanted more.

With the hand that he had on your neck, he held you away from him. Your eyes met, both looking blown out and yet you still managed to look so seductive. His eyes shifted back down to your parted lips releasing small pants of breath. He licked his dry lips and with a raspy voice, he said, “Get on the bed.”

You looked down at his cock that still felt heavy in your grip. With your eyes locked with his, you moved to the bed sitting on the back of your legs, arms on your lap looking oh-so-obedient. His breath hitched at the sight and he was quickly undressing himself the rest of the way standing naked before you as you sat looking pretty in your little black dress. He got on his knees letting them sink to the mattress as you got up too.

A shiver ran down your spine at the feel of Jungkook’s rough fingers running across your shoulders to lower the thin straps of the dress. They trailed down your back softly, catching the ribbon that tied it together against your spine, and undid it The thin, silky fabric dropped down on the bed revealing more of yourself to him. Jungkook looked down at your chest, he was used to the size of them. All summer long you were showing off your pretty tits in tight tops and slutty bikinis, and yet the full view was so much more. Your nipples were pointed out, sensitive from being exposed and his rough, large hands cupped them. You released a quiet whine as his fingers pinched your nipples. Jungkook’s jaw was open, speechless at how soft you felt in his hands, “You’re such a pretty girl.”

You nodded, biting into your lip when he lowered his head to place a kiss on the plumpness of your breast. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders not wanting to stop when his tongue swiped at your nipple, licking it before sucking it into his mouth. Jungkook traveled his hands down to your thong, groping your ass before getting a hold on the material. With little effort on his end, he tore one side at your hips and did the same to the other until it was coming apart from your legs. Your underwear was left ruined as he held you by the waist, guiding you on top of him as he moved to lie back. You didn’t say anything, only soft moans leaving your lips at the way he moved your body around to his liking. You were both fully naked now and he guided you to turn away from him, gripping your thighs as he backed you up to his head and you got the hint.

Jungkook was being impatient, he needed to feel everything. He couldn’t wait to taste your pussy or to feel the tightness of your throat constrict around his large cock. He wanted to do it all now, not later. Later he can explore slowly, learn every way you want to be touched. Because if you think he’s going to be done with you after one round, you’re wrong. He moved his elbows under your knees making sure your thighs hugged the sides of his head and his body shivered. Just above his face was the prettiest little cunt he’s ever seen. Slick coated the outside and pooled at the center. Your clit was in view and the way you arched your back made your pussy pop out more. He swallowed dryly.

How did he manage to get this sight in front of him? He was a fool to think he could withstand your games, clearly not. But he can’t just let you toy with him, he’ll show you how to make a woman cum.

As soon as his wet tongue met your oversensitive clit, you had to cling to his thighs, nails digging into the muscle at his boldness. Your mouth parted in silent moans as his hands pinched your hips, pressing you down further against his mouth, getting the first taste of pussy he’s had in years—even before his divorce. You better believe that he was not doing this to his ex wife the months leading up to separating. Even if he was, nothing would have compared to how eager and wet you were.

“Da—Ju-Jungkook… ” You whimpered as you brought his cock toward your mouth, tongue swiping along his side in hopes of bringing pleasure to him fast. Your tongue began from the base of his cock where his neatly trimmed hair ended, licking all the way to his tip. From there you wrapped your lips around his head letting your tongue swipe along the slit that released clear dribbles of precum. As best as you could, you tried to relax your throat, guiding him down as far as you could.

The feeling of a warm and tight mouth around his dick had him moaning. His eyes rolled in pleasure as his thighs tensed, “Oh fuck, Y/n,” he groaned against your cunt, your wetness running down his chin. “Your mouth feels so good.”

Lewd sounds came from your mouth with each thrust of his cock down your throat, tongue licking as much of his length as you could. Jungkook was getting messier with the need to bring you to an orgasm with his tongue. Slick sounds formed every time he lapped his tongue between your pussy lips, nipping at your clit with each swipe. His fingers were digging small crescents into the roundness of your ass as he made you ride his face harder.

“Oh my god,” you cried out like a whiny brat as your hips twitched in pace with the cool in your lower belly. Jungkook placed a hand behind your head not to apply pleasure but to keep you in place. “Oh my god,” you repeated and you were so damn loud, so shameless with your moans and he’s only used his mouth so far. He’s so thankful you never tried this when Jieun was home. He wouldn’t be able to keep you quiet if his dick was in your tight snatch.

Jungkook was relentless, licking at your cunt even as you released your juices all over his tongue. He ate you out through your orgasm, letting it dribble down his chin that he pressed against your clit, shaking. He was close, so fucking close but if he cums it’s going to be in your pussy. He needs it now.

You nearly fell to your side as he moved you off his lap and you collapsed onto the bed, hand feeling around against the comforter to find your little item. He was too busy fixing himself between your legs to notice you touch a small black package. You picked up the condom moving it in front of him and he took it without a word. Jungkook felt like his hands were shaking as he put it on. The anticipation of being inside you was building up and making him jittery. You were going to be so sensitive with the way he ate your pussy and he was so hard it will be very hard to be gentle. His hips dipped down as his hand lined his cock between your folds. Wetness stuck to the condom, and he began a slow grind making sure to touch your clit as he did so. His hands pressed against the bed near your ribs and looked at the sight. You brought a hand down between your legs, spreading your slick around his cock hoping to get him to just fuck you already. You didn’t want him to tease you or stretch you or gently talk you through it. You want him to stuff you full of his cock and tell you much of a bad girl you are.

You don’t know how to explain but he was such a man. Not a boy, not a college guy or late-twenties coworker. He was a man who worked out every day, trimmed his body hair, cooked meals and did yard work all while looking so unbelievably hot. He would take care of you, he has been taking care of you and you wanted him inside of you now.

With your hand already against his cock you took a hold of him as you lined him up with your entrance hearing a soft grunt leave his lips. Jungkook was going to stop you and do it himself but he found it so much hotter to feel you guide his cock into your pussy. The softest pussy he’s ever felt, hugging his dick with warmth and wetness. Sucking him in as far as you could take him and dragging along his length as he pulled back in a nervous twitch. He won’t last, he won’t last at all

“Come on Mr. Jeon, show me how a real man fu—ohh,” he sank back in, the same vacuum sealed feeling hugging his cock and he found it hard to pull back out. Jungkook was quiet, too focused in the need to just fuck that he’s not paying attention. He’s doing what feels good until you tell him to stop. His hands snuck between the mattress and your ass, finding purchase as he lied down against your body. His knees dug into the bed and the muscles in his thighs flexed with the first real hit of his hips against yours, cock digging in just a little further. Your arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby when his hands held your butt so tightly that your hips lifted off the bed. He fucked you onto his cock, back flexing with each thrust that made his spine protrude in his arched form in an animalistic way.

Jungkook was so turned on, so close to the edge that he wanted to scream. He could hold off so much longer but not right now. Not while your moans tickled his ears and your skin was hot under his mouth with each kiss he placed on your neck. You moaned loudly, “I’m so close, oh… daddy, ohh.”

“Shh,” Jungkook mumbled against your throat, “Just cum baby, be a good girl and cum for me. I want to feel your slutty pussy cum around my clock.” He was so close, he just needed the final push and he wouldn’t be so desperate to get off.

Like before, the only warning you gave to your release was the tremble in your thighs. Jungkook released a low growl that made your throat bob as you practically hugged each other with the way he still held your ass to his cock, both coming undone at once.

Jungkook was heaving for air, legs shaking as he set you back down the inch he lifted you up. Your walls still clenched and unclenched around him and he had to turn you both on your side to be more comfortable as he began to pull out.

He rolled onto his back, hand on chest as he looked up at the sky, “Fuck.”

You smiled moving to sit lips placing a kiss to the line between his feelings the way he gasped for air. You wondered if you’d have to wait for a second round another day. “You’re still hard.”

It was true, despite the puddle of thick semen on his lower stomach, he was still hard, and your hand running up his thighs wasn’t helping. Jungkook looked down at you, “Condom?”

“I’m out but I’m on the pill.”

Jungkook wanted to be more rational but he could. He still needed to feel you on his cock. “Come sit on my dick, pretty baby.”

With a flirty smile you did as told, quickly swinging your legs around his hips as you held his cock up, Jungkook had to bite his lip hard to hold back the moan he was going to let out. This time around, Jungkook didn’t hesitate to place his hands on your hips and push you down his length.

“Y/n,” he moaned as you began to ride him, grinding against his base every time you sank down on his dick. You’d raise your hips and drop them back down against his with a smack. “Fuck, tightest fucking pussy. Fuck, look at you.”

You were such a sight with your pretty face displaying pleasure, your first bouncing with how hard you rode him, belly button ring glistening every time light reflected off the jewels. Jungkook’s hand ran over it before coming up to your breasts. “All summer, teasing me with this body, leaving me to jerk off in the shower to the image of it.”

Your pussy twitched at his words, “I touch myself to the thought of you, Mr. Jeon, I’ve been dreaming of this cock in my pussy.”

Your words traveled straight to his dick, pulsing at the idea of you with your fingers in your cunt fucking yourself to him. You were riding him with such eagerness that the bed shook with each bounce of your hips and his hand couldn’t help but spank your ass urging you on. Once again he felt himself close and he wanted to warn you. He was waiting to know for sure if he was going to when everything seemed to stop except the bounce of your hips splitting your cunt open with his cock. His eyes shot to the bedside table where your phone sat facing up, Jieun’s picture on screen.

His heart stopped, trying to get you to slow down but it was too late. He was reminded of your age and relationship with his daughter. You reached for it before he could stop you and pressed it against your ear fighting his hand that reached for it, “Hello?”

“Hey ugly, is my dad home? He’s not answering his phone.” Jieun asked through the phone. You looked down at Jungkook who shook his head with pleading eyes for you to stay still but not stop. He still needed to cum.

“He probably left in his room,” you said the last words with a grind of your hips that had him biting into his knuckles to fight back a moan. You sat straighter, enjoying the stretch of his cock, “Is there something you want me to tell him before I leave?”

His eyes shifted to you now. What do you mean leaving? You sent him a smile, shaking your head to assure him you didn’t mean it and that you wanted to have fun with him all night. Jieun signed, “Just tell him that I left the keys to Benz on the mantle.”

“Mmm, okay,” you said softly as Jungkook began to respond with his hips bucking to meet yours. He couldn’t hold on anymore. “I’ve gotta go Jieun, I’m about to leave, I’ll tell him.”

You hung up with that and he took your phone dropping it on the mess of pillows on the floor before sitting up to hug your body fo his, “Such a dirty fucking girl.”

“She left the keys to the car on the mantle,” you moaned out as his face dug into your perky breasts, nuzzling into them. He growled in frustration, grinding your hips on his length, “I already know, fuck she interrupted us for that?”

“While I’ve got her best friend riding my cock like the little slut she is?” He licked your nipple and his words had you moaning, shaking in his hold. He really didn’t seem to care anymore.

He was fucking you from below, sitting you on his lap and making you bounce on his cock, “You like fucking your friend’s dad? You like older man dick?

“Yes, fuck Jungkook, only yours,” You moaned making his chest blossom with pride at your words. With your affirmation, he moved onto his knees, hands under your ass as he fucked you onto his cock.

“Gonna cum for me? Is my baby gonna cum on my cock?” He asked with a coo but with a deep tremor in his voice, “Yeah baby? Such an eager brat, look at you.”

“Mhm,” you nodded and he went faster.

When you came undone, Jungkook took you off his cock. He couldn’t be gentle with it as he came all over himself. A hand was on his dick as he eased himself through his second orgasm of the night looking over to you. You were tired after your own third orgasm and toppled onto his bed. Jungkook knew he should feel some form of guilt but he doesn’t. Instead, he runs his hand over your back to your ass as you laid on your stomach. Your perky little ass taunting him so much that he leaned down and place a kiss on it, biting lightly into the plump flesh making you shake your hips from sensitivity. He gave it a final smack.

Maybe when the sex-fueled fog leaves his mind he’ll realize the damage he’s done.

He fucked a woman much younger than him, fucked you real good.

He had let himself be seduced by a total nymph.

His daughter’s friend.

Yet all he could say as he lied down on his back to catch his own breath before a possible third round was…

“You’re such a good girl when you’re taking dick.”

He had about a month before you and Jieun left back to school and he was going to make it worth your while. You’ll never want younger men again. You’ll want his cocking fucking into you every time he visits Jieun. He’ll sneak into your dorm when she’s at work and fuck you with all the pent up desire he’ll have from not having your body in months.

And you’ll take every inch he gives you like a good girl.

REQUEST 1

::.

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa

collab taglist: @blueberrysoda @cupidguk @weirdorathexplora @purpleguk @exactlygreatcoffee @minnie-mouser22 @bangtans-momma @royallyjjk @iceykoo @tae-hibiscus @happygolucky7777 @taeslarityy @jeonzll @errewaythings @kmadelin @bloopkook @anjcrbnll @literaturenutz @absolutelyjeons @strawberrysweetness @jungkookminthairwhen @sincerelyflora @twilight-loveer @heartjiminie @outro-kook @blueberrysungie @r0ttenbeans @koo-kz @allfryou @takochelle @kookies-n-spice @bighitbabie @jjkreblog @queenmasterxx

a/n whewww look at that taglist 😮‍💨also this was so fun to write and just imagine dilf jk 🤩

[kurogxrix]

That’s okay! Could I request daughter x Tonowari or daughter x Jake though?

This Family is Our Fortress

Jake sully x Daughter!reader x Neytiri

IN WHICH Dad!Jake and Mom!Neytiri comfort you after the boy that you loved has chosen another.

WC: 2.8k

Sweet dad!Jake shit because i need it in my life.

The Sully tent was just as lively as every single night, the booming voices of kids arguing over some irrelevant topic resonated in the background. Neytiri was busy peeling a few fruits for some sort of dessert while Neteyam helped his mother with the main dish, which she was more than happy with, don't get her wrong. Although usually, it would be you that would be helping her with the cooking pot, but you were not in the tent yet. 

Neytiri moved her head back towards the rest of her kids that were playing some game that Tuk had forced them too. She watched as the two older kids completely let the youngest out, fighting over the game by themselves like children as Tuk was left to complain by herself. Though their dear father was never far away, and he just happens to have been unfortunate enough to have gotten caught by Tuk.

Neytiri had to put her knife down in an attempt to bring a hand up to her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as she watched Jake fall victim to Tuk’s makeover. She tied ribbons of all shapes and sizes into his locs, opting for two silly looking pigtails that Jake surely complained about during the whole process. Eywa, it was moments like these that made Neytiri fall even more in-love with the man that had swooped her heart so many years ago. 

She looked down at her half-peeled fruits before smiling wildly to herself, unbeknownst of the knowing look that her eldest son was giving her. After recollecting her sense, Neytiri turned her gaze towards the entrance of their tent and her ears raised at the sight of you. You were sitting on the bare, dirty floor of the High Camp. 

Though your back was turned to her, she could see that you were fiddling with something in your hand. It was unlike you to stay out of family bonding time, because Eywa knew herself how much you hated being excluded. So to see you distancing yourself on purpose made concern rise into your mother’s chest. Her motherly instincts were ringing, but she had a better idea of who to call for the job. 

She looked back towards Jake, who was now harboured a totally new hairstyle. Neytiri made a call for Jake as she watched his hair whip towards her. He wasted no time going to his wife, narrowly escaping the wrath of Tuk’s strong little fingers that pulled at the roots of his hair mercilessly. 

“Your daughter is upset,” she stated, not once lifting her eyes from her work in fear of bursting out laughing at the sight of him so close. Jake looked at her quizzically as though she had just asked him the most complicated question, and she sighed annoyingly at his silence.

“That means you must go comfort your daughter, ma Jake.” she stated, this time looking straight into his eyes. Her cutting didn’t stop, and he was impressed at her precision and multitasking skills. 

“I look straight out of a circus, think she’s gonna take me seriously like this?” he laughed, but Neytiri failed to reciprocate his amusement. Jake winced at the serious look on her face, fearing that he might’ve taken it a little too far. Though his shoulders visibly relaxed and fell back down when she only huffed and dropped her head back down to the bowl full of diced up fruits. 

“Y’know it is not normal for her to be this quiet, she has not even stepped foot into our family tent!” Neytiri muttered, concern heavy in her voice. She turned her head towards where you sat, and Jake only followed in suit. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of your back turned towards them, before standing up and wipping his hands unnecessarily on his lap.

“Don’t stress this Jake, s’okay, just a little conversation with your daughter.” he tried to calm himself down as he walked towards the tent doors, feeling himself pause as he hesitated behind you. Eywa, when was the last time that he’s had such a conversation with his own child? Jake couldn’t even remember for sure, and he knew that the one that he was about to have with you was not going to be light-hearted. 

“What’s up, oeyä hì’i syulang?” you heard the anxious voice of your father suddenly from beside you, jumping a little at the suddenness. You smiled softly at the nickname that he has carried for you since birth, my little flower. Though it quickly fell as you glanced back at the bracelet in the palm of your hand, your lips churning into a frown once more. 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours?” he asked when he received no answer for his first question. “I know I must look silly right now but I can assure you that I'm 100 percent serious about this.” at his words, you looked at him swiftly. Retaining the need to laugh at his odd hairstyle that you were sure was Tuk’s creation was hard. He grunted as the corners of your mouth twitched when your eyes panned towards his hair, his ears falling down as he knew that you were internally making fun of him.

“It’s nothing dad, I'm fine.” you shook your head slowly, raising to your knees in an attempt to stand up and leave. Though Jake’s hand was quick to catch onto your forearm to drag you back down. His strength was indomitable even though he was not pulling you with his whole will, and you had no other choice then to submit. It was silent for a few minutes as you sat back down next to him, your leg crossed above the other.

“It’s just Naywe.“ his ears raised at the sound of the boy’s name, falling completely silent as he gave you his full attention. You hesitated before telling him the rest, considering if it was worth it to tell you dad such things. It was hard for you to express your feelings to anyone, let alone your own family. Jake cursed himself as his children had inherited his emotional constipation, which was clear in the way that Lo’ak refused to ever talk to them about his own feelings.

You felt a warm palm enveloped your own as you looked down to your hand, only to see your father’s larger one intertwining yours. He gave you a reassuring squeeze before you craned your neck to look back up at his face again, seeing the encouraging look on his face. You knew that it was just as hard for your father to discuss emotions just like it was for you and your little brother, and your heart soared at his dedication. 

As a father, Jake knew that his job was to make his kids feel loved and understood. Though he failed miserably at it with his youngest son, he told himself that he’d try to be better for you all. Fatherhood was hard, he had to admit, but at the end of the day when he’d glance at his peacefully sleeping children all perched up on their hammocks, he knew that he wouldn’t exchange this life for any other. 

“What about that boy?” your father asked. Jake knew that there was something going on between you and Naywe that reached further than the platonic line. Matter of fact everyone could see it, they were not blind. The boy would always walk you back home after a long day out, and sometimes you’d even return home with all sorts of new jewellery and attachments. His eyes can’t help but wander onto your head piece, one that he knew was undoubtedly crafted and gifted to you by the na’vi boy. 

Jake wasn’t stupid to the omaticaya customs, just because he had impulsively bonded with Neytiri didn’t mean that he didn’t learn afterwards. He knew of na’vi mating customs and one of them was gift giving. Something that one has made by themselves to affirm their love, to show that the other person was the one that they had chosen.

At first it was hard to accept for your father, to see his daughter growing up so fast, see his hì’i syulang grow from the little girl that she once was into the woman that she is today. His heart hurt at the thought that soon you’d leave his home to your shared one with Naywe, but it seemed like Eywa had other plans for you.” 

“I-I don’t know, I just thought that there was something special between us.” 

“Of course there is, that boy is literally attached to your hip!” Jake tried to make you feel better despite not knowing what the real problem was yet, but it only seemed to aggravate things as he watched your lower lip wobble slightly. 

‘Shit’ Jake thought as he watched you turn your head away from him, hiding your feelings far away from the eyes of your father. This was definitely not where he had meant to go with this conversation, but hey, parenthood is all about unexpected moments. Your father slung a hand over your shoulders, successfully pulling you into his torso as you hid your face in his chest. 

He couldn’t see the way that your face was crumbling as you fought tears, but he could feel you shaking against him. Jake turned around to seek silent help from Neytiri, but she was too busy serving food to your siblings to even bat an eye towards him. Jake didn’t want you to think that he was incompetent as a father, even though you would never think such of your dad.

He was in all platitude, your hero. You looked up to your father much more than he knew of, but you’d never openly admit that to him. The side hug was just as much physical affection that he could give you without being awkward, but you’d take that over anything. 

“You ready to talk about it?” Jake brought a hand to caress the delicate braids that your mother had just done a few days ago. Your hair accessories matched the ones in her hair, and Jake couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He knew of how much you loved your entire family, but the bond between a mother and a child is unlike no other. You are bonded to your mother by tsaheylu right after birth, so your relationship is deep. 

For a second, Jake wished that it could have been the same with fathers. Maybe then he could have understood you better in this instance, so he would have known the exact things to tell you. 

“He’s not mine anymore.” you sniffled as you looked down at the bracelet that you fiddled between your fingers. “But he was never even mine to begin with.” you explained to your father, who he listened to you talk as though a 14 year old teen listening to gossip. The relationship between Naywe and you was always complicated, but you knew that your feelings for the boy were solid. Even for a moment, you had allowed yourself to believe that so we’re his, but apparently it was for any other woman.

Naywe had only been courting you for a while, but you both had never really put any sort of title upon your relationship. You never thought that you needed it, because if he was courting you, it must’ve surely meant that he wanted to be yours, forever. 

“He is with Zepii now, forever.” you observed as your father’s face scrunched up in realisation and you felt yourself crumbling again as you thought about it. Eywa, you had even invited the boy to your tent to have dinner once. You had presented him to your father, and it had taken you ages to muster up the courage to even ask. Now this is what he does after so many months of your devoted dedication? 

Jake felt so many emotions running thick through his veins the moment that you had muttered the words. If Eywa hadn’t given him the strength right now he was sure that he would’ve up and left to beat the boy up. But no, that was unethical for a grown adult, let alone for an Olo’eyktan. He felt an aching feeling pinching at his chest as he watched his eldest daughter being so distraught in his arms, but no matter how much he urged to comfort you, the words just wouldn’t come out. 

Jake watched as tears poured freely from your eyes, staining the smooth skin of your face. Though this time you didn’t try to hide away from your father, and his heart did a double take at the newfound trust. Now the side of your face was resting upon his torso as he continued to rack his hand through your braids silently. It’s not like you had expected your father to tell you all sorts of comforting words when you had ranted to him, because you knew that it was just as hard for him. 

You were just happy to have such an understanding dad, you didn’t hear any words from him to know that he understood you, he saw you.  

“Heard that my little warrior was upset, so I brought you your favourite fruits.” Neytiri’s voice burst from behind the both of you and you removed your face from its comfortable place on your father’s chest. You closed your eyes in an upside down smile as you were grateful for your parent's presence in your moment of sadness. 

“One day you will find someone who truly values you, no need to feel desolated because of one boy.” your mother murmured to you, making it known that she had caught onto your conversation with her husband. Neytiri gave you a bowl full of your favourite fruit, and the gesture couldn’t help but raise a smile to your face. Oh and how much you adored this family. 

Your fingers dug through the mountain of sticky fruit cubes as you picked up a random piece. You were just about to eat the piece of fruit when a sudden force upon your back made you double over, your diced up fruit piece flying from your hand and onto the dirty floor. If it hadn’t been for your mother catching your bowl, you were sure that you would’ve murdered whoever was behind you. You gasped loudly as little arms wrapped themselves around your neck from behind, and you knew by the little giggles who it was already. 

Neytiri looked at Jake from behind Tuk that was perched up on your shoulder as he gave her one of those lovesick looks that you were glad you didn’t see. Neytiri leaned her head to the side as she looked at your father, speaking silently with her eyes to him. They were so sickeningly adorable that it made you want to puke the fruit that you had not even been able to enjoy yet because of your sister.

You felt your mother pat your thigh as she robbed you of your fruit bowl, motioning for you to stand up as she was heading back for the tent. Your father was next, and you reached behind to pass your arms over Tuk’s thighs, locking them securely under her knees to make sure that she didn’t fall. 

Her legs instantly went to wrap over your torso given that she was much shorter than you. The sweet giggles of your baby sister made your heart flutter with newfound happiness as you stood up, jumping up slightly to reposition her. 

Before you could even set foot into the tent though, your father stopped you by the shoulders. There was a warm smile plastered on his face at the sight of your own, and he brought a hand to rest on your cheek. His large thumb wiped all previous tears that had stained your skin, all up in one go. You fought the urge to lean into his large palm, but it seems like the yearning won over as you did so. 

You stayed there for a while, wondering when would be the next time that your father would cherish you in such a way. It didn’t matter anyways if he didn’t hug you in the way that he had done today, because you knew that his love went past physical contact. He reminded you everytime that he was proud of you, and that was enough. 

Even though you knew that your parents reconfort could only seize the pain of betrayal for so long, you were happy that they had been there for you anyways. And no matter how many days or weeks or even months that it takes for you to move on from the aching in your heart, you knew that your family would always be there for you. 

-

[necrotic-nephilim]

this is not a ship post, but something that frustrates me a lot in fanon concerning Jason Todd that attempts to soften Jason's return to Gotham for the sake of found family domesticity or easy hurt/comfort or just sliding him into the Batfam sooner, is they all seem to fundamentally misunderstand Jason.

because there seem to be a lot of fandom popular concepts of Jason coming home much sooner and just not having his whole Under The Red Hood arc. which in theory is fine and i can see the want to simplify canon to make room for your lighthearted more fluff-leaning concepts. but in everyone without fail, the way they address the clown-shaped elephant in the room is by having some throwaway line that "oh Jason quietly kills the Joker and moves on".

when the Joker being dead or alive is not the *point*. if by some chance accident, the Joker had died prior to Jason's return, whether by ridiculous freak accident, getting whacked by a fellow villain, hell even someone actually doing so to avenge Jason, it *would not* satiate Jason's anger. because Jason's end goal in UtRH is not to simply kill the Joker: it is to make *Bruce* kill the Joker. Jason's anger is directed to the idea that to Jason, if Bruce truly loved Jason, he would've killed the Joker. that is love, for Jason. compromising your personal values for love and not letting someone go unavenged. when Jason was Robin, almost every angry or misguided thing he did was born of love. he wanted to kill/hurt Two-Face because he believed Dent killed his father. he was so angry at Felipe because an innocent woman was dead due to that man's actions. he wanted to save his mother in a situation he knew he shouldn't be in because he loved her. his anger, his violence, it is driven by love and feelings of righting wrongs. that is how he thinks wrongs *should* be righted. that is how you avenge and *love* someone.

because so long as Jason's return to Gotham doesn't end in Bruce killing the Joker (which, it never will bc Bruce is Bruce), Jason will never forgive Bruce. you cannot wave away the layers of hurt and complicated trauma by killing Joker offscreen. because Jason will still be angry that Bruce didn't avenge him. in his eyes, that means Bruce did not love him enough. he was not truly loved by Bruce the way he loved Bruce. bc Bruce was Jason's whole *world*. prior to being taken in, Dick and Tim, they had support systems. they had loved ones. they knew what stability and healthy family love looked like. Jason *didn't*. and that's not to say that Catherine Todd did not love him with her whole heart and thus he loved her, but it certainly wasn't a stable and safe support system for Jason to grow up in. Bruce was Jason's first real sense of a stable, healthy life. and so of course Jason poured everything into Bruce and loved Bruce so devoutly. Bruce was his world. like he says, if it had been Bruce, Jason would've stopped at nothing.

so his betrayal is rooted in that he was not avenged, not that Joker is alive. so long as the Joker does not die by Bruce's hands, it will never be enough for Jason. (in this era, at least.) notably, this is also why i don't think it would change a thing if Jason knew the whole "oh Bruce wanted to kill the Joker but Superman stopped him" tidbit that fanon has really latched onto as a way to pacify Jason's anger toward Bruce. Jason knowing that wouldn't change a thing, in my opinion. because Jason knows Bruce. and a tenant of Bruce's character is that he grapples with murder *every day*. the whole point is how *easy* it would be for him. he is a human weapon, trained by killers, trained to be deadly. he is the greatest strategist to exist. he knows he could kill someone and get away with it. *no* trace, no proof, nothing. and he knows he *wants* to. wants to kill the Joker, Joe Chill, anyone who's hurt him that viscerally.

but he *doesn't*. that's the point. Bruce wakes up every day with that question on his mind, and every day the answer is the same. Bruce's morality is not a decision he made in an alleyway when his parents died, it's a decision he continues to make every day and he *must* continue to make in order to remain who he is. Jason is quite familiar with the fact that Bruce grapples with this daily. i do not think it surprised nor fazed Jason to know that Bruce did *consider* killing the Joker. that he wanted to. maybe even planned to. but a consideration, a want, a plan, is just a thought. it's nothing substantial, and substance is everything to Jason. at the end of the day, Bruce didn't. he was talked down by *Clark* of all people with an excuse of diplomatic immunity, as if Jason and Bruce don't both know that Bruce could've *easily* found a way to make it look like an accident or some other loophole. because he's Batman. there's always a loophole. he always finds a way when he actually intends to. but he never actually intended to kill the Joker. so he didn't. and Jason would know that there was never an intent. it's an interesting piece of fodder to add to the nuance of Jason and Bruce, but honestly, i think it'd make Jason angrier to have that excuse thrown in his face. as if Bruce hasn't beaten Clark half a dozen times by now. it's a flimsy nonsense excuse that Jason would rip to shreds.

so while yes, i understand the wish for easy lighthearted fanfic that doesn't have to deal with the nuances of canon, i think that Jason's character will always be so deeply robbed and altered if you try to fix his thirst for vengeance with an off-page killing of Joker at Jason's hands. it was never the point. the point was that -in his own eyes- he wasn't loved enough for Bruce to make an acception. he realized that not even his *death* would come before Bruce's Mission. Jason truly believed that Bruce loved him and held him as the most important thing in the world, and now he has proof that Bruce didn't. because the Mission mattered more.

i'm not saying i have a solution to this conundrum if you're attempting to solve it for fanfic/fanon, nor am i even saying it's a bad thing it exists. i just think it becoming overwhelmingly common has led to misunderstandings surrounding Jason's motivations and feelings about this arc and it's an unsatisfying solution that only seeks to pacify Jason's rage and his trauma responses for the sake of found family-ification.

[notemojustsad21]

Cassandra Cain’s characterization in her 2000s solo run is my favorite. her solo series talks about her struggles as being a new bat while still dealing with her past and how it add to that.

The most obvious part of her struggle is learning to speak and following her vow not to kill. However, it goes much deeper. Her past and her upbringing with David Cain shape her worldview, especially her moral compass. David is often portrayed in stark terms as an abusive father who deprived her of speech and molded her into an assassin. Yet, the story suggests a more complex relationship. David Cain’s love for Cassandra, though deeply flawed, is evident in small moments, like showing her constellations or the pride he took in her first kill. He dressed her carefully and did her hair, which may imply that he saw this as a twisted sort of ‘fatherly care.’

Cassandra’s feelings toward him are just as conflicted. She cared for him up until he made her kill, and even afterward, there’s still a lingering connection. In later panels, we see hints of Cain’s remorse, and despite everything, Cassandra still shows compassion toward him, such as when she gave him a flower in prison.

This complicated history influences her actions as a vigilante. For instance, when dealing with criminals who have daughters, her own upbringing makes her judgment more rigid. In one scene, when a criminal calls out to his daughter while being dangled over a roof, we see how Cassandra’s black-and-white view clashes with the emotional bond between father and child, a reflection of her unresolved feelings toward her own father.

It’s this moral complexity, shaped by the people around her, that makes Cassandra Cain such a fascinating character. Her sense of justice is deeply personal, shaped by the trauma of her past, and that adds layers to her actions and decisions as a hero

[quiddling]

Do you have any more lore about your Saera son targ oc? 😊

My sweet sweet boy.... The Bastard of Volantis !!! I love this guy sm so I do actually have a lot... and i realise now I haven't said anything about him other than he is Saera's son on tumblr before so i'm going to ramble on and on after the break heheh [:<

Aenor Targaryen, an infamous natural son of Princess Saera Targaryen. His father's identity remained an enduring mystery. Aenor was born in 98 AC and raised in the Free City of Volantis, where his mother ruled as proprietor over a famed pleasure house. Though born bastard, Aenor inherited the distinctive Valyrian features of House Targaryen - pale silver-blonde hair and deep purple eyes. Aenor himself made no public assertions for the crown much like his mother, though he took pride in his dragonblood heritage.

He is an irreverent and cocksure young man who revelled in the luxurious vices of the Volantene lifestyle. From a young age, Aenor displayed a keen intellect and a natural charisma that set him apart. He inherited his mother's sharp wit and political acumen, quickly learning to navigate the complex social dynamics of Volantis' upper echelons. Despite his bastard status, Aenor carries himself with the confidence and poise befitting his Targaryen heritage.

Aenor's relationship with his mother, is one of the defining aspects of his character. Despite the unconventional nature of their lives, Aenor loves his mother dearly and would defend her with his life if necessary.

As a boy, Aenor would often sit at his mother's feet, enraptured by her tales of dragons and the legendary Dragonpit of King's Landing. Saera's stories painted vivid pictures of scaled behemoths soaring through the skies, their roars echoing across the realm. These tales instilled in Aenor a lifelong fascination with dragons and a secret longing to one day see one with his own eyes.

Occasionally, in rare moments of nostalgia or vulnerability, Saera would share glimpses of her life as a princess in the Red Keep. These stories were always tinged with a mixture of fondness and bitterness, revealing the complex emotions she still harboured towards her past. Aenor learnt to treasure these rare insights into his mother's former life, understanding the trust she placed in him by sharing them.

However, Saera's recollections of her father, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, were infrequent and laden with resentment. The lingering pain from their estrangement was evident whenever she spoke of him. This unresolved conflict between Saera and Jaehaerys left a lasting impact on Aenor, shaping his own complicated feelings towards his heritage and the idea of family loyalty.

Through his mother's stories and silences alike, Aenor developed a nuanced understanding of power, family, and the weight of the Targaryen name. This understanding would come to influence his own ambitions and his approach to navigating the complex world of politics and personal relationships in Volantis and beyond.

I'm still not 100% sure on most of this part of his lore i just wanted my sweet boy to have a dragon and see the rest of the world....but regardless of his illegitimate status, Aenor managed to claim a wild dragon in Essos. The beast, which Aenor named Naerion, was described as being a medium-sized dragon with brilliant orange scales that covered most of his body, while his underbelly and wing membranes were described as pale striking gold. His distinctive colouration made him easily identifiable in the skies, earning him the moniker "the Sunset Wyrm" among soldiers and smallfolk alike. His wings, when spread, cast a shadow the colour of sunset. During the Dance of the Dragons, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, on behalf of his mother Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, sought to bolster the blacks' forces with additional dragonriders. Jacaerys dispatched envoys to Volantis, seeking out the Targaryen Bastard. He was initially reluctant to involve himself in Westerosi affairs. However, the promise of legitimisation and lands upon Rhaenyra's victory swayed Aenor and he agreed to cross the Narrow Sea with Naerion.

[carionto]

The duality of Man, or triality? quadrality?

Alien to Human about New Human: Correct me if I'm wrong, but they appear abnormally large for your species?

H: Yea, he's a biggun alright, even without the EV suit I'd say... 7'3'', 310 pounds, bet he power lifts.

A: Umm... not to be rude, but, uhh... he seems, well... how should I put this...

H: Intimidating? Terrifying? Evil? Yea, if this station didn't have high screening standards I'd be totally pissing myself if he started walking towards me. The mohawk and eye tat totally make me believe he could snap me in two with a single glare.

A: I feel ashamed that my instincts are telling me to flee. I wish nature were easier to change.

H (shouting at NH): Hey buddy! Could you come over here for a minute please? You look awesome by the way!

A (whispering nervously): what are you doing?!?

H: Gotta overcome those fears somehow, I believe the best way is a direct confrontation.

NH approaches, somewhat slowly, looking around at all the other aliens in the station that are chatting, waiting around, or doing some work. He finally approaches A and H, and in a very deep and husky voice says: Um, hi, hello. T-thanks for the compliment, I, uh, was a little worried I would stand out too much here.

H: Oh you totally do, my friend over here is practically about to pass out from how much like a gothic viking of death metal you look.

NH: Oh no, I'm so sorry, I-I just grew up in Sweden-Delta and both my parents were huge into classic local music, so I just, uh... it's complicated. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare anyone.

H: Hey, relax pal, we're all good people here. Anyway, what you here to do? I'm planning on starting a bakery, still testing out what kind of flour most species here can actually stomach. My friend here is on the team working on Moon theft preventative measures.

NH: Oh, that's cool. I'm here as an exchange student with the department of applied astrophysics. If all goes well, I can finish my Bachelors degree remotely and stay here as an intern with the head researcher.

H: Oooh, that's cool. (so cool yea that you're apparently half my age but oh well guess I'm a big fat time waster like my father before me and oh god change the subject before I get depressed in front of strangers) That's a real big bag you got there, carrying some super secret science things, eh?

NH: Oh, that... uhh... guess it can't hurt to tell, security vetted it already anyway.

NH proceeds to unzip the bag and hold up a large white piece of clothing with light blue rings and accents, alongside a strange white cap with what looked like small fins, and a curious little backpack.

NH: It's uhh... um... my... Ika... musume... cosplay.... (oh gods I can't believe I said it out loud again)

After a moment of awkward silence, NH slowly puts on the backpack and presses a button on it's strap, and suddenly numerous light blue colored tentacle-like appendages sprout out from the backpack and move in line with NH's movements.

NH: I, uh..., got my engineering friend to make them articulate and interface with my contacts. I can make them do all sorts of things, like make various shapes and animals with them, though works best as a shadow theater.

H:...

NH:...

A now frozen out of confusion than fear:...

H: That's so

NH: (oh I know it's so lame, but I love that show)-

H: COOL! I don't know what a ika musume is, but those things look amazing. You said articulate? How precise can they be? I'd love to have something like that instead of my useless assistant. Poor lad can't make a piece of toast if his life depended on it...

NH: Y-you like it?

H: I LOVE those things. My daughter does cosplay too sometimes, but she makes her Dreadnought suits herself from scraps. One time the military came to our house and installed a limiter on the gauss cannon she found in a crash site, said it would otherwise start to generate small doses of radiation if used too frequently. But she replaced it with a handmade rail gun before the next convention. Do you go to those? Did you see a 7 meter tall hulking metal monstrosity with a bunch of candles all over? That was her.

NH: Oh, I think I've seen video of that, but no, not in person, I go to smaller events. I don't really like big crowds.

H: Oh yea, I get ya, you do seem a bit on the shy side now that we've been talking for a bit. Hey, no worries, like I said, we're all good people here.

NH: T-thanks, but I think I should be going now, the teacher is calling me over.

H: Oh yea, go ahead, didn't mean to take up so much of your time. Have a fun stay and I'm sure you'll ace that paper or theory? Or whatever astrophysicists do, you seem like a solid kid.

NH: Oh, uh, thanks. Good luck with your bakery. And you with stopping those weird people from stealing more moons. Bye.

H: Bye bye, come visit, don't be a stranger now, I'm set up just a short bit from the main lift on floor 14.

NH: R-right, I'll, uh, be sure to stop by soon.

A is finally able to process what they just heard and says: What was all that just now?

H: What? Just a friendly chat with what is apparently basically a kid. Man, this kid's got so much going on, while I'm almost 50 and I have an oven. Life, man, it can go in so many ways. Anyway, let's go grab a drink, I'm parched.

[lilap20]

Chapter XI: News from Driftmark

@koobratzy @beebeechaos

In the year 120, Princess Rhaenyra had three children, Princes Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey. A rumor spread by the Greens, saying that the three children had Ser Harwin Strong as their father, the striking and identical resemblance. In that same year, the Lady of the North, Princess Nymeria, was still with child. Lord Cregan's wife had already borne two children to the Lord. Robb Stark, born in the year 115, he had everything of a Targaryen except the facial features, his hair was silver like his mother and his eyes purple, his little sister Lyanna born in the year 117 had the features and her mother's hair but her father's gray gaze. Two eggs were brought to Winterfell, only Robb's egg hatched. In that same year, Princess Laena was again pregnant with the Prince Daemon. Rhaenyra: 31 years old Nymeria: 29 years old

I walk the halls of Winterfell with the fabric of my dress pulled from my obvious pregnancy. I have just visited the Maester where I have just learned that a white crow has been sent, a sign of coming winter and above all a letter from my sister and cousin Laena was waiting for me.

With a smile on my face, my silver hair tied with a dragon-shaped brooch, I go to the courtyard, where Cregan is talking with his Sub Master, observing the wood harvests. Robb and Lyanna are at his feet, my shy and reserved little daughter looking at him with her big gray eyes, Robb playing with his direwolf.

I smiled unconsciously passing a hand on my stomach before going down to join them. Robb is the first to see me, he gets up from the ground running towards me, his big purple eyes shining with joy. His cub direwolf is behind him trying to bite his feet. Robb jumps on me clutching my stomach and kissing him, I run a hand through his silver hair

-I don’t dare ask why you’re not in class. I say while stroking his hair and he looks up at me.

-I escaped the instructors. He tells me with a small smile and I roll my eyes

-Robb. I say taking his chin in my hand, stop making your instructors run

My son purses his lips and I sigh.

Damn me and Cregan for being so tender to him. As soon as he makes that face, neither Cregan nor I can resist. I kiss his forehead and my son smiles like he won the fight. I look up and see my husband, carrying Lyanna in his arms, his gray gaze on me almost making me blush. Two children, years of marriage, and I still feel shy and excited when our eyes meet.

Cregan walks over, frowning when he sees Robb stuck to my stomach, I smile.

-Robb escaped from his class. I inform you when it reaches my level

-And it's clearly hidden so I don't see him. Said Cregan looking at his son who is still glued to my dress

-He was right behind you, I smile, caressing the back of my daughter who smiles at me with her big gray eyes.

Lyanna has always been shy, since birth. She never wanted to leave my arms, cried whenever a nanny or even Cregan touched her. Now she is glued to her father admiring the world while being on him or through his eyes. Both of my children have silver hair, and while Robb has my purple eyes, Lyanna is the one with my Valyrian features.

-I didn't see him. Cregan replies, kissing my forehead and then looking at Robb who is hiding behind me. I will take care of you after young boy. He said with a commanding but amused voice.

I smiled softly, almost forgetting why I had come to see him. Seeing my husband with my children makes me in love and weak in feeling. Cregan is such a good father that I didn't hesitate to give him Lyanna right after giving birth to Robb. Unfortunately my second pregnancy was more complicated than my first, Lyanna coming prematurely. I wonder what this pregnancy will be like, my stomach is rounder than normal, my fatigue is greater, I am worried about my future birth.

As if reading my thoughts, Cregan takes my hand in his, stroking the back of it.

-How are you today? He asks with a careful look

-Heavy, I answer before sighing, apprehension has become my best friend.

Cregan smiles sadly before kissing my cheek.

-I'm sorry to hear that, my dear. What do you want me to do to relieve you? He asks his voice more tender

-Hold me while I eat cake? I suggest, raising a silver eyebrow which makes him laugh.

He places Lyanna on the ground who automatically comes to hide in my skirts, I caress her silver head before looking at my husband more seriously. He frowns.

-What's going on?

-A white crow has arrived. I respond looking him in the eyes

Cregan tenses up immediately, it’s subtle but I know him well enough to realize it. The arrival of Winter was always a great tradition for the Northerners, it was carefully prepared especially for House Stark. Cregan as Lord of Winterfell and Governor of the North will have to inform the Houses of the North of the arrival of winter, and they will have to send him what they need for the winter.

-Winter is coming. Cregan says with his commanding voice and Lyanna looks up at her father.

Gently I squeeze his hand and his face relaxes slightly, he looks at me with intensity before caressing my stomach, his gaze fixed on it with a dreamy smile.

-His first winter. He whispers, caressing my stomach.

-One of his many winters. I say smiling when screams alert us

We turn our heads towards the screams, Sara is chased by Robb and his cub pulling her dress. My smile melts on my face and I call my son.

-Robb, stop now. I command, walking towards him in the courtyard.

My son immediately stops looking at me slowly with his eyes shining with mischief and above all with joy. His cub comes running through my legs and as usual I grimace when I see him. His animals grow much too quickly for my liking.

-Mama, you saw, he wants to play with you. Said Robb excited

And I would like Nightmares to cook him so that he stops causing my sister-in-law to scream and, above all, helps my eldest son in his mischief.

As if Cregan hears my thoughts, he approaches us, and I turn to realize that my daughter is running behind him, she crouches down and scoops up my son's cub in her arms.

-Apologize to your aunt, Robb. Said Cregan coming to my side.

Robb blushes from ear to ear, but looks at his aunt and apologizes in a small voice, Sara on the other hand cannot blame her nephew and opens her arms, Robb running into her arms. I sigh, shaking my head before running a hand over my stomach.

-Robb always comes out on top. Cregan whispers, chuckling before looking at the letter in my hand. What is it about? He asks raising an eyebrow.

-A letter from cousin Laena. I answer, opening the letter, She writes to me, my voice cuts off and my eyebrows furrow. From Driftmark.

My gaze quickly finds key words in the letter and my eyebrows furrow. Cregan automatically places a hand on my wrist asking me to look at him.

-What's going on? He asks worried trying to find an answer in my gaze.

I look at him dazed, my hand crumples on the letter. The greatest fear of us woman, royal, Targaryen, good family or bad family. The pain of childbirth, the fear of losing your life.

-Everything is fine. I respond, a confident smile on my lips.

Cregan is not fooled I know, he looks into my violet eyes and asks me to answer sincerely. But I withdraw from his grasp with a desolate smile, before heading towards the entrance of the castle.

Talyssa sees me and strides over.

-Nymeria? What's going on?

-My cousin Laena is in great pain, the contraction pains alerting Rhaenyra. Daemon asked us to join her. I rub a nervous hand over my stomach as I walk towards my rooms. The letter was written a week ago, the crow took a while, she must have been in labor since then.

-If she is in labor, her husband the Prince and your sister the Heiress must be at her side. Try to reassure me Talyssa, everything should be fine.

I smile grateful that my best friend is trying to comfort me, but my heart can't stop pounding in my chest reminding me of the fear singing in my ears. I enter my rooms, opening a wardrobe containing my riding clothes.

-Think twice Nymeria. Talyssa said from right behind me, watching me choose my riding outfit. Nymeria!

-My cousin is suffering at the moment, I turn around furiously facing her gaze, if my presence can help her then I will go to Driftmark, pregnant if I have to. I respond, my tone determined, my violet eyes shining with conviction.

Talyssa tenses, looking at me with wide open eyes, she has become so beautiful over time, her red hair silkier than ever, her eyes representing the island she comes from. Her gaze softens then she sighs. She walks over to my wardrobe pulling out a riding outfit suitable for the size of my belly.

-What are you doing ? I ask watching her choose my outfit.

-I can never say no to you, said Talyssa, taking the boots, not when you look at me with that fire in your Dragon gaze. Nobody can.

I smile at his words then my body cools hearing this voice:

-I can. Said Cregan's voice entering the room, his hands behind his back.

I look at my husband who has arrived, my gaze fixed on his. His facial features are relaxed, which is worrying, I can't read anything in his eyes, this emotionless wall he builds when he is in front of the Northern Lords building himself in front of me.

-Husband…

-Leave us. Cregan said to Talyssa, his eyes on me.

Talyssa nods then looks at me before leaving, closing the door behind her. The sound echoes through the room as Cregan looks at me, his gray eyes filling with emotion synonymous with irritation. I don't take off my clothes, I turn to my riding outfit.

Talyssa nods then looks at me before leaving, closing the door behind her. The sound echoes through the room as Cregan looks at me, his gray eyes filling with emotion synonymous with irritation. I don't take off my clothes, I turn to my riding outfit.

-I will go. I only say and that one statement breaks his emotionless wall.

-That's a no. Said Cregan approaching me with a hard look.

-I'll go Cregan. I say looking at him my tone reflecting my determination.

-And I told you that you will stay here. Cregan said, approaching me, his furious gaze on mine.

I hold his gaze while his grandeur dominates me, I don't look down and we lock eyes. I know he's worried, I know he wants me to stay here in Winterfell, surrounded by all his servants, midwives, Maester and others. He wants the baby to be safe, wants me to be safe. But I have to help my cousin Laena. I must stand by his side.

-Cregan, I begin in a whisper taking his hand in mine.

His gaze goes down to our intertwined hands then back up to my eyes.

-I know you're worried, I whisper, looking into his eyes, I know you're not reassured and you want the baby and I to be okay. But Laena needs me.

-Laena is with her husband and your sister. Said Cregan, shaking my hand nervously in a serious tone. Would having you really be useful to him? He asks, his voice softening.

-We are never too many in this kind of situation. I respond, my face relaxing, but my determination still in my eyes, then I sigh. I won't be long. Driftmark is not that far away on the back of a dragon… And then his whole face tenses.

-On the back of a dragon? Nymeria we have already talked about. He said with a frown.

-Taking a boat would take too long, I explain, approaching him again, my hand still in his, the letter is a week old, anything could have happened since then. I say, placing my free hand on his chest.

-So you are risking your life for your cousin Laena? He asks with a frown. Without considering that your children will lose their mother, that your husband will lose his most precious love.

-Nightmares will never bring me down. I say with a convinced and authoritative tone, I will be very attached to him.

-Your dragon hates seals. Cregan says frowning again and I run my finger between his folds making his frown even more.

-He will understand. I respond making a mental note that I need to convince Nightmares to wear a more complex sigil. I promise I'll make it to Driftmark in one piece. Me and the baby.

Cregan closes his eyes with a sigh and I know I have it. He rests his forehead on mine before placing his other hand on my stomach, it is firm and authoritative with care and love.

-Promise me that you won't put yourself in danger, that you will see a maester every day. I prepare to cut him but he continues. Promise me Nymeria, on what is sacred to you because I know that making you promise on the Old or New Gods is futile.

His gray eyes find mine purple and they are filled with emotion and worry. I remove my hand from his taking his face between both hands before kissing him gently. Our mouths separate with a wet noise.

-I promise, on what is most sacred to me.

Cregan sighs then solemnly kisses my forehead several times before resting his chin on the top of my head.

-I really can't refuse you anything. He whispers.

-Mama, are you leaving tomorrow? Asks my son climbing onto my bed.

Lying in the large bed that Cregan and I occupy, I watch my son climb directly against my stomach. Cregan arrives carrying Lyanna who clings to him, a dragon-shaped toy in her hand. He gently places her on the mattress and she automatically comes against me.

-Yes, I respond to my son stroking his head, I am going to visit your aunt Laena. I respond smiling.

-Aunt Laena. Lyanna says smiling and I kiss her forehead, Cregan coming onto the mattress.

He takes my daughter on his knees kissing her forehead, my son traces circles on the bump that my stomach forms against my nightgown.

-I don't want you to leave. Robb admits playing to caress my belly and I smile tenderly at his confession.

-There are two of us, my little wolf. Cregan sighs theatrically and I roll my eyes.

-Me too Mama, said Lyanna, stroking my silver wavy hair. Mama has to stay, it's three to one. She said smiling.

I stroke my daughter's hair, sighing with a smile on my face. I kiss her cheek and she laughs when I tickle her in her father's arms.

-Don't seduce my daughter. Said Cregan a smile stretching his lips, she's on my side isn't she my little wolf. Said Cregan to our daughter and she smiled affirming her words.

I sigh with a hand on my forehead, my son Robb bursts out laughing at my acting.

-At least my little one inside is on my side. I respond by stroking my belly.

-No, little sister is on our side. Robb laughed before kissing my stomach a few times. You're on our side, aren't you, little sister? He asks looking at my stomach.

My heart melts at the sight, and I fight against the tears that almost fall down my cheeks. I stroke my son's hair, feeling Cregan's tender gaze on me. Lyanna yawns softly before leaning against Cregan's chest. Robb still seems excited but when Cregan calls the midwife, he doesn't grumble and follows her with his sleepy little sister in the midwife's arms.

Once we're alone, Cregan closes our bedroom door and looks me in the eye. Over the years his hair has grown, but so has his beard. His gray gaze is as hungry as ever and I laugh when he climbs on top of me, leaning on his elbows, he kisses my forehead.

-Are you letting your beard grow? I ask, stroking his black beard which grows from moon to moon

He kisses my forehead and nose before lying down next to me.

-Yes, until the little one arrives. He said while caressing my round and tense belly, his gaze softening. How are you this evening? He asks and I smile

-The hot bath did me a lot of good, and this evening strangely everything is calm. I respond, looking at my stomach.

He smiles then kisses my smiling neck several times against my skin caressed by his hungry lips. A heat settles in my lower abdomen and I shiver feeling the hard and painful tip of my breasts rubbing against my nightgown.

-Are you sure it’s not painful? Cregan asks, becoming more insistent in his kisses.

The discomfort I may have felt melts under the heat of desire that ignites my heart. I become more and more responsive to his touch ending quickly above him, my lips capturing his in a fiery dragon dance. His hand comes to hold the back of my neck, his thumb stroking the back of my hair as my hand comes to hold his cheek. Finally he removes his mouth from mine, a wet sound echoing around the room.

-Nymeria, he said slightly out of breath looking into my eyes, are you in pain? He asks with seriousness in his eyes.

-I'm not, I answer in a voice choked with desire.

-Nymeria… he's about to ask me the question again and I swear if he does I'll get out of this bed.

-I have pain between my legs. I respond by kissing his neck, his beard caressing my cheek.

Cregan shivers before a gurgle leaves his mouth and he grabs the back of my neck so our lips meet. As our kiss becomes more feverish, I feel his hands climb under my dress raising it on my hips. He growls against my lips when his hands caress the bare skin of my ass, tugging at my lip.

-I want you to ride my face. He whispers against my lips, and I moan just thinking about it.

He pinches my buttock, giving me a quick pat before helping me sit up against his thighs. Our lips are red and swollen, wet with saliva as he helps me remove my nightgown. My breasts are heavy, my nipples pink and pointy. Cregan's eyes light up when I lean over and he sucks with tenderness then ferocity on my nipples which harden even more in his mouth.

-So sensitive. He hums while licking my breasts like his favorite dessert.

Moisture pools between my legs as Cregan's name tumbles from my lips like a plea. My hips move alone against his erection, wetting his underside, making him grow and grow against me.

-My love, Cregan whispers, holding my hips, comes against my lips as I taste you.

I moaned immediately, standing up to position myself above him, my legs framing his face, my thighs being scratched by his beard. Cregan caresses my ribs and the taut skin of my stomach, lowering me gently against his lips, his hands clinging to the flesh of my buttocks.

-Cregan. I immediately moan, cursing in high Valyrian, my thighs already trembling.

-Are you already shaking, princess? Cregan sneers against my swollen, wet cunt. I've only just started.

-You coming back in a long time? Robb asks as we walk towards the dragon cave.

-In a few days. I answer by stroking his silver hair, and he tries to escape from my hand.

Cregan is silent as he is by my side, Alyssa walks beside him hand in hand. My little girl still has her dragon toy, it almost never leaves her side, probably a sign that she wants a dragon. I sigh at the thought, caressing my stomach.

-Cregan. I whisper as I take his hand in mine

-Love? He asks as he squeezes my hand

Since the sun rose, his body is tense and his gaze stern. He doesn't want me to leave, but when I decide something I do it. Despite all our orgasms the day before, Cregan still seems to be upset with me.

We quickly arrive at the Dragon Pit. I spent months searching around Winterfell for a cave big and warm enough for Nightmares to rest in the cool summers, my dragon guided me to a secret cave whose river is cold but the inside is warm and soothing. Of course we brought in dragon keepers from Dragonstone, and above all the cave is constantly warmed by torches and fires lit in every corner.

When I got pregnant, it became clear that an incubator had to be set up in the cave, and more guardians had to go to the North. The locals didn't like this choice made by Cregan, and I can't blame them. The dragons are the ones who took their crowns from them and now they host them in their homes.

We arrive at the dragon pit, passing behind the waterfall. Automatically the warm breath of the constantly burning fires and volcanic stones brought back from Dragonstone warms us. A burnt and charred flesh scent floats in the air, and the ash tickles our nostrils.

-Dārilaros (Princess) Hail a dragon guardian, My Lord. He says bowing to Cregan

-Iksis nightmares ziry iksos ready? (Is Nightmares ready?). I ask as I put on my gloves.

-Se zaldrīzes accepted hae olvie seal hae īlon could (The dragon accepted as many seals as we could). The guardian replies with a hand on his heart.

I smile grateful that they tried to put Nightmares' seal. It's not easy, Nightmares has a nasty character like Caraxes my uncle's dragon. They are more alike than you might think.

-Mama, can I see Nightshades? Robb asks excitedly

-Of course my dragon. I answer taking his hand and my son jumps with excitement

I glance at Cregan who still with a closed face now carries Lyanna who observes the cave with bright eyes. Cregan is not delighted with this place, for him, Robb and Lyanna are children of the North and should not have a dragon, only direwolves. But I wanted to give them the chance to know my heritage and now Robb has his dragon.

-Do you think about bringing more eggs here? Cregan asks watching me caress my belly which stretches my riding outfit.

-You know my opinion on this subject. I answer looking at him with my tender but determined violet eyes.

-And if the eggs don't hatch? He asks caressing Lyanna's back

-Then it won't be wanted by the gods and the North won't know any more dragons. I answer with a small smile passing my hand in his.

I let go of my son's hand as he runs towards the entrance of a cave, the cool wind rushing in with it the smell of burnt flesh and charred bone. Cregan stands a few paces behind me as I approach with my son.

I gently hold his shoulders with both hands as he calls out.

-Nightshades, dohaeragon nyke (Nightshades, serve me).

The dragon guards surrounding us, two in front of Cregan three on each of our sides and two in front of us hold their pitchforks in their hands as a low, high-pitched growl is heard.

A hot breath extinguishes the torches of the guardians in front of us and a large ten year old dragon stands climbing up the rocks having been smeared with dragonglass and hot ash. I instinctively back away with the guardians as Nightshades' piercing gaze finds us, another growl taking hold of him.

I turn around, and see Cregan holding our little girl tightly who hides her face in his neck. Only Robb smiles with all his teeth calling:

-Nightshades, dohaeragon nyke. And the dragon raises his head

A softer growl comes from him as he leans his head closer to my ten year old son's face. Nightshades is a pure mix of both his parents. When my aunt Rhaenys brought him to me from Driftmark I couldn't believe my eyes. Meleys had given birth to a litter of two eggs, one red and white, and one blood red. I had no doubt about the father like my aunt, these eggs had been conceived by the mating dance of Nightmares and Meleys.

"Gevis." Robb whispers as the dragon comes to headbutt him against his belly.

Robb takes a few steps back before laughing and stroking his dragon's thorny neck. The dragon was mostly white, the backs of its red wings reminiscent of its mother.

"Nightshades." Robb smiles as the dragon sings. It has grown even bigger. Said Robb

The dragon was indeed large for his age, Syrax wasn't this big when she was his age, it's probably because of the dragon pit in Port Real, the dragons have slowly gotten smaller since they got there. Here in the north, Nightmares and Nightshades are mostly free.

-Honey, say goodbye to Nightshades, Mama is leaving. I whisper to him, stroking his hair.

As Robb says goodbye to his dragon, I head towards the entrance of Nightmares' cave. My dragon is already there, growling at the guardians. He grows bigger every year, becoming as big as Caraxes. His seal is already on and I smile as I approach him.

Nightmares stretches his long, thorny neck towards me, automatically asking for my touch. I stroke his thorny crest with a smile on my lips. His neck circles my waist and he sniffs against the bump of my belly.

-Iksi returning syt ñuha vȳngar gevives (back for another trip, my dear). I whisper against his neck and he growls in response, detaching himself from me.

Nightmares looks me in the eye, his gaze burning into my violet eyes. He puts his muzzle against my nose before getting ready for me to mount him.

I then turn around to say goodbye to my family. Cregan who is holding our daughter in his arms, a hand on Robb's head has pain in his eyes. I approach and kiss my son's forehead who takes me in his arms kissing my neck.

-Mama promises to come back soon. I whisper, stroking her hair.

-Mama comes back soon and in good health. Lyanna says, holding out her arms to me.

I take her in my arms and kiss her cheek several times, my gaze fixed on my husband's. When I put Lyanna down, Cregan comes closer, one of his hands comes to my waist, the other on my stomach. He gently caresses it, his gaze on mine.

-I will keep my promise. I whisper, trapped in his gaze.

-You better. He answers with a soft but firm voice.

He kisses my forehead several times, our eyes closing when we feel the contact of our skin. My hand caresses his on my stomach, then when our lips meet, my heart melts in my chest.

-Come back to me. He whispers against my lips, his gaze burning me -I promise. I answer, kissing him one last time.

[illuminatedquill]

Story Summary: Sabine and Ezra do their best to enjoy a rare day off at home as their daughter, Mira, begins her days in the Academy. But, as it always is with these two, things are never that simple for this star-crossed pair . . .

Day 1, SabezraWeek2024 Prompt: Slice of Life - Domestic Sabezra

@sabezraweek

I used to be a morning person.

In the early days, back when I was still on the Ghost with Kanan, Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Ezra, I relished being the first person awake during our long travels around the galaxy. Walking into the communal area, brewing up a fresh mug of caf, and then sitting in the Phantom alone, watching the stars pass by in silence. It was such a brief respite from the general chaos of our everyday existence, fighting a war against an implacable foe than never seemed to falter in its cruelty.

(Well, technically, I was the first person awake. Hera never really seemed to sleep, always tinkering with her ship at odd hours.)

Even back then, being involved in a war for our survival, I couldn't resist against the sense of optimism that flowed into me, looking out at the vastness of space. I felt young and invincible, able to shape the future as I saw fit.

There was no challenge that Sabine Wren, Mandalorian, could overcome.

But now . . .

A sharp series of pokes at my cheek, accompanied by giggling.

"Papa, I don't think she's going to wake up." My daughter, Mira, attempting to rouse me from my slumber.

My husband's voice, intimately familiar and filled with easy-going humor, replied in an amused tone. "Try the other cheek, maybe?"

Deciding to be playful, I let out a noise that some would unwisely call a snore. This was shortly joined by more giggling from my daughter.

I felt some pressure on my other cheek - and then, with lightning quick reflexes, snatched my daughter into a bear hug. "Aaaahhhhhh!" I growled. "Who dares disturb my precious sleep?"

The giggling erupted into squeals of laughter, bright and lively. "Mama!" Mira said, as I rolled around with her on my bed. "You're finally awake."

I peppered her face with kisses. "All thanks to you, little one. As punishment, I give you death by a thousand kisses."

"Gross! Papa, help me out here," complained Mira.

My husband, Ezra, stood at the side of our bed, dressed in casual sleepwear. His hair was still a little floofy from sleep, along with rumpled clothes. In the early morning hours, it was undeniably an extremely attractive look - well, at least it was to me, which is all that mattered. He stroked his beard, recently trimmed, looking thoughtful.

"Actions have consequences, cyare," he said sadly. "I'm afraid that's a fact of life."

Mira wriggled out of my embrace to glare at her father. "This was your idea, Papa," she retorted.

"Was it? I can't recall. Must be my old age."

I snorted and sat up in bed. "Is it time?" I asked.

My daughter looked at me, annoyance momentarily dropped. "Yes. Leaving for the Academy today."

"Soon, I might add," Ezra stated. He looked at his chrono. "Head over to the refresher, Mira. Let's get you ready now."

I stroked her hair, suddenly overcome with emotion. It seemed only yesterday that a medical droid had handed her to me, so tiny and fierce with life, swaddled in a blanket. The labor had been long and arduous, full of unexpected complications, but holding her in my arms afterwards - the ultimate manifestation of the love shared between myself and Ezra - was one of the happiest moments in my entire life.

She was our heart in physical form, stepping outside our chests into the big, wide galaxy. I knew we couldn't protect her forever, much as I wished sometimes to just lock her inside the comm-tower - she needed to spread her wings at some time.

I just wished it hadn't come so quickly. If only I had more time . . .

My thoughts wandered towards my late mother and father. Did they feel this way when Tristan and I started making our own way through life? Making choices that caused our paths to diverge far, far from home?

"Mama?" asked Mira, her voice worried. She stared curiously at me, her features a mix of Ezra and mine; I saw his smile at times, bright and guileless, but her eyes flashed briefly with a fire that reminded me all too well of my own - and my late mother's.

"Are you okay? You look sad."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile. "It's a happy kind of sad, cyare. You grew up on us so fast, little one."

Mira smiled. "I'm a kid. That's what I'm supposed to do."

I laughed and pulled her into a big hug. "And you're doing such a great job of it."

Ezra seemed more composed than I did, but I felt through our bond in the Force that he was going through the same emotional turbulence I was. His tone was gentle as he said, "Mira, it's time. Say good-bye to your mother now."

My daughter gave me a farewell kiss on the cheek and sprinted out the door. Ezra looked at me. "Are you going to be alright?"

I sniffed. Allergies, I told myself.

Sure, Sabine.

"No," I admitted. "I just thought . . ."

"That today would take longer to get here?" Ezra said, finishing my train of thought. "I feel the same way, Sabine."

I reached out to grasp his hand. He squeezed it affectionately. "You get it."

"She's with us for only a little time," Ezra said quietly. "Let's just enjoy it while we can."

I couldn't say anything to that. I heard someone say once that children are a gift that are loaned to us for only a little while. At some point, we had to let them go find their own way.

Why is the last act of love always letting go, I wondered.

He leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead before leaving to attend to our daughter. "Get some more sleep," he said. "I'll see you after I drop her off."

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke an hour later to the rich aroma of freshly brewed caf. Shuffling out of the bedroom, I found Ezra in the kitchen with a mug of my favorite beverage.

I accepted it gratefully and collapsed onto the couch. Murley sauntered by, brushing his face against my legs - a regular routine for him, since the act resulted in his daily allowance of petting. With fond annoyance, I reached down to do so.

Once he was satisfied, the mangy loth-cat let out a purr as thanks and stepped away to find a warm spot to doze in.

"You live such a charmed life," I noted.

Ezra joined me on the couch, a bowl of freshly sliced golden plait-fruit, berries, and meilooruns on his lap. My stomach growled at the sight.

"Hungry?" he asked.

I held back from snatching the bowl from his lap. "You have to ask?" I said, trying not to sound like a hungry loth-wolf.

My husband grinned. "No. But it's fun to do so."

He picked at a slice of fruit and popped it into my open mouth. I chewed slowly, savoring the fresh fruit. In between bites, I finished my caf, and leaned my head onto Ezra's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked. My voice was still slurred slightly, a result of not fully being awake yet - the caf had yet to take effect.

I felt Ezra shift uncomfortably on the couch. "Well . . ."

I groaned. "Is that today?" I asked. "I thought it wasn't for another week, at least."

"Hey," Ezra retorted. "It was your idea. You said we shouldn't put off cleaning and maintenance any longer. This was the day we both agreed upon."

I grimaced. He was right. Ezra was a Jedi Knight, which came with enormous responsibilities, and Bo-Katan - the current leader of Mandalore - always needed my help corralling the clans into focusing on rebuilding our home world instead of warring against each other.

Add all that with the time-consuming demands of being a parent, meant that the comm-tower we called home had fallen into disrepair. We made it work; it wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but that meant some things fell through the cracks.

"I've changed my mind," I said promptly. "Let's wait another week."

"Sabine," he said patiently. "We have a pile of dirty laundry that is literally taller than our daughter. It needs to be done."

I really did not want to clean the comm-tower. Ezra and I had been so busy over the past few months and with Mira finally out of the house starting Academy, we finally had some alone time.

I had needs that had to be addressed.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, I thought.

With a firm hand, I turned his face gently towards me. His expression was curious, a question presumably about to be asked but I had already pressed my lips hungrily against his.

There was a moment of surprised silence before he melted into it, his need rising to meet mine. I pushed gently against his frame, and we fell gently onto the couch, still kissing passionately.

"Sabine," he groaned. "We have so much to do today."

"We do," I agreed, tracing a line of smooches down his cheek, his neck, aiming to make my way further down into more enticing territory. "So, it would be best if we finish this first so that our focus can be fully on the chores."

His voice dropped into a husky growl, signaling that I had won this particular battle. "You are incorrigible," he huffed out.

I was in the middle of pulling his shirt off as he spoke. "Oh?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "Should I stop?"

He glared at me. "Come here."

I lowered my face to his, holding back laughter.

Ezra grinned and he pulled me into a warm embrace, kissing and making me breathless; making me feel alive.

_ _ _ _ _

True to my word, I was locked in on the chores after we finished.

Ezra puttered around the house, cleaning up the various debris littering the floors first before putting in the hard work of sweeping, dusting, and mopping to make sure our home was habitable again.

Meanwhile, I focused on the maintenance: checking the electrical systems, the power generators, and communications array.

Early on in our relationship, we had figured out a good system to handling the daily mundane tasks of everyday life. Ezra had clocked immediately that I hated cleaning; something that shouldn't have surprised him, given our prior co-habitation on the Ghost.

When I had poked him about it, since he had visited my room countless times, he pointed out that we were at war with the Empire during that period.

"I assumed that was the reason," he muttered, after seeing my incredulous expression. "I didn't know that was your default state, Sabine."

"It would have been," I admitted. "If Hera and Kanan hadn't kept being annoyingly persistent about cleaning up after myself."

Meanwhile, I had realized that Ezra lacked the mechanical knowledge and expertise that had been ingrained into me since birth - which, if we lived in a normal state-of-the-art apartment complex in Capital City, wouldn't be necessary.

But we had decided to stay in the old comm-tower instead. During long years of isolation and loneliness, the aging structure had served as home for both of us. It was an easy choice, one of the first we made together as a couple.

But that meant someone had to look after and maintain it. Which meant me.

Parts for upkeep were increasingly rare since the comm-tower was already past its prime during the Empire's reign, as the last of its line of communications towers before being phased out of service. When the Empire came to power, this proved to be a boon to the Bridgers, since the outdated machinery meant that it was overlooked during the initial Imperial survey of Lothal's resources - and continued to be so when their son claimed it as refuge after they were taken.

Because of the rarity of parts for use, that meant I had to regularly scavenge in junkyards across the galaxy to find components that could be used. My husband was competent in quite a few forms of mechanical repair, but the tower was a long-term care project and required the kind of ingenuity and complexity that he simply wasn't equipped with.

And I really, really did not like to clean.

So, the bargain was struck - I handled maintenance, he handled cleaning. It was a good deal which enabled us to avoid arguments and turn our attention and energy to more pressing matters (like what we had just done on the couch.)

I was on my back, dressed in an old flight suit borrowed from Hera, covered in old grease and spatters of oil, halfway inserted into an open vent that led to a circuit board that controlled the flow of our air conditioning. It sparked erratically mere inches from my eyes, which were safely shielded behind a pair of mechanic's goggles (also from Hera, but she didn't know that I had them).

I frowned, holding back a curse. This circuit board had been a problem since I had procured it from a shady Quarren vendor on Kijimi. But the discount he had offered was too good to pass up.

I see now why it was so cheap, I thought grimly. Should have known better, di'kut.

There was a nudge at my foot. I peered out to see the face of my husband, looking concerned, holding a large trash bag full of -

"Is that hair?" I asked, shocked. "That can't be all hair, Ezra."

He gave a faint look of disgust and shook the bag's contents. "Afraid so. I can't tell if this all Murley's or if Mira's been letting in some of his feral friends while we haven't been paying attention."

I craned my neck to find the accused in question and found Murley, our resident loth-cat and menace, taking up his usual place on my personal tool bench. He was watching us with curious eyes.

I pointed my electric torch at him. "Stop loafing around and help out. I don't let you squat here just to be cute and keep us company, you know."

Murley mewled in what I construed to be polite disagreement.

I wagged the torch aggressively to emphasize my next statement. "I'll kick you out," I promised. "For real this time."

The loth-cat blinked - and then proceeded to cough up a disgusting hair ball.

Ezra sighed. "Great. I have to clean up that now."

"He has his charms," I said, grinning.

He folded his arms, annoyed. "Which are . . .?"

"Well," I said. "For one, he does remind me of a certain handsome Jedi."

Ezra squatted down to me, a slight smile breaking through his annoyance. "Oh, does he?"

I reached up to stroke my husband's face affectionately. "Why do you think I kept him around so long?"

"Figured it was the other way around. He was hard to get rid of."

"So were you," I pointed out. "Seems like I have a penchant for being liked by strays."

He leaned into my touch - and then laughed when my stomach growled hideously.

Feeling my face flush, I went scooted back into the open maintenance shaft.

"Guess it's feeding time," Ezra chuckled. "What are you in the mood for?"

Trying - and failing - to sound nonchalant about the egregious announcement of my bodily functions, I answered, "Two Bantha burgers, large fries, and a meiloorun smoothie."

"I'm assuming both of those are for - "

"Me, yeah," I grunted, stifling the mild spike of annoyance. My hunger was finally making itself known after an hour of toiling away in the mechanical guts of our home and I felt it begin to poison my jovial mood.

"So, that will be three bantha burgers, large fries, and two smoothies, then. From Paldo's?"

Paldo's. My favorite local fast-food diner in Capital City run by an elderly Twi'lek named, you guessed it, Paldo. I was considered royalty by the manager there, much to my husband's amusement. There was even a framed picture of me on the wall, first thing you saw when walking inside. Mira always laughed with delight whenever she accompanied me for a meal.

"Yup," I said.

He eyed me. "I don't understand where you put all that food."

I gestured proudly at myself. Years of hard work, battle, and a stressful childbirth and yet my figure was still in top form for my age. "It's all in the genes, cyar'ika."

"Is that so," Ezra said dryly. "And are those same genes the reason why you eat like a newborn rancor, my cyar'ika?"

"No. That was the result of being raised with a brother, as you know."

"Oh, I do know," Ezra replied. "I met him, remember? Poor Tristan was all skin and bones, if I recall."

I swatted at him. He let out a bark of laughter and pivoted to the side, avoiding my hit. "Go get my food, husband mine. Or you'll see how a baby rancor reacts when deprived of sustenance."

With a teasing grin, he gave a mock salute and headed for the elevator. A minute later, I heard the tell-tale grumble of a speeder engine starting and then the familiar swoop sound as it sped off into the distance towards Capital City.

Sighing, I returned to my repairs -

A chime came from the communications console, indicating a visitor.

I frowned. Had Ezra returned already? I didn't hear the speeder.

I got up and walked towards the console to press the intercom. "Did you forget your credit chip, di'kut?"

The response was laced with sardonic amusement. "Hello, Wren. It's been a while."

I froze at the voice, familiar but not in a way that invoked pleasant feelings; it was familiar in the way that a warrior knew the sound of a knife escaping its sheath or the sound of a blaster powering on.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. Already my mind was racing, racing with horrible thoughts of Ezra and Mira.

"There's something I need to show you. May I come up?"

"No," I said firmly. "I'll come down to you."

"Sure," she replied. "It will be like old times."

I grab my lightsaber off a nearby work bench before heading down to see why Shin Hati had come to visit.

_ _ _ _ _

I have nightmares about this sometimes.

In my nightmares, she and I are dueling again. That cold night, years ago, after I had just unlocked the map to Ezra.

I beat the assassin droids and give chase to her, like always. She is wrapped in a cloak, blacker than the night surrounding us.

Her lightsaber blazes scarlet in the dark courtyard. I activate my own - and strike, my emerald meeting her scarlet in a blaze of sparks.

And then, in the nightmare, I stumble. My blade swings wide and I am left defenseless for a critical second.

Shin's blade comes down in a vicious arc, right through my exposed neck.

And I wake up, in a cold sweat. Ezra doesn't ask, he doesn't need to. He just wraps me in his arms and gently lulls me back to sleep.

This isn't my nightmare, however. But a part of me still feels the hot blaze of a blade made from pure plasma erupting in my gut.

Shin Hati stands across me in the tower's courtyard in broad daylight. Next to her is a speeder, sleek and shiny with fresh chrome. She's dressed in gray combat fatigues with a black bolero jacket worn over it. Her platinum blonde hair is longer now, tied into a short ponytail.

I probably don't look all that intimidating to her, now that I think about it, covered in an old flight uniform that's seen better days. But I hope the lightsaber hilt gripped in my hand is enough to make her cautious, at the very least.

Her eyes pierce mine with a wolfish stare. Finally, she shakes her head. "Well, you didn't have to dress up for me," she said.

"You should have called ahead," I replied. I made sure that my thumb was right over the activation switch on the lightsaber hilt. "I would have freshened up."

Shin cocked her head. "Thinking about it now, you didn't look that good last time we met like this."

She smirked. "Remember?"

An old searing pain ached in my abdomen. The scar.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

She slowly pulls from her jacket a holo-puck. "You need to see this."

"Toss it to me."

Shin complied. I caught it deftly, my eyes never leaving her face. She didn't move immediately for a weapon. I felt some of the tension drain from me - but not much.

"Play it," she urged.

I did so. The holo-puck emitted a recording, the blue static focusing into something sharper -

Something in my chest tightened and I felt myself inhale sharply. The recording was of Ezra and Mira.

From this morning. I watched the miniature holographic forms of my husband and child play out for a few more seconds - Ezra giving our daughter a hug before waving her off to the Academy - before the recording fizzled out in a shower of sparks.

I winced, dropping it. I realized a second later, seeing the warped and twisted metal, that I had squeezed it so hard that it broke.

I looked back at Shin. Something in my face must have spooked her because the former mercenary took a step back with her hands up, palms facing outward, in a placating gesture. "Wren, I promise. This was not me."

"Who?" I asked. The voice that came out was cold, colder than a winter on Krownest.

"Bothan private investigator. Their name - "

"I don't care for a name," I hissed. "Where are they right now?"

"I took care of them. They won't be following your family anymore," Shin said quickly. "But, more importantly, their employer is someone you know."

My teeth ground against each other in frustration. "Say it."

"Senator Xiono. He hasn't given up his personal crusade against you and your husband."

My stomach dropped at the name. Xiono.

He had already been a paranoid, suspicious politician before Thrawn had returned. The Imperial warlord's campaign against the New Republic had brought his planet's people nearly to ruin - and his wife had suffered grievously during the Grand Admiral's bombardment. Beset with grief and rage, the senator had railed against the Security Council for their failings - and had taken up a special fixation on myself and Ezra, who were caught in the middle of that mess.

There were only a handful of people who were aware of my involvement in Thrawn's return: Ezra, Hera, Leia, Zeb, Kallus, Ahsoka, and Chopper (no one actually told the astromech, he just figured it out all by himself). All had sworn to keep it secret, to protect me - despite my insistence against doing so.

But Xiono never gave up his line of inquiry, I knew. Chancellor Mothma had strong armed him to stay in line, but I always suspected that he continued to probe whenever he could.

The senator blamed Ezra and myself for what had happened to his home planet - to his family.

And he wasn't entirely wrong, a dark voice whispered in my mind.

But this was a new low.

My anger threatened to erupt from my chest, bellowing and screaming to the Lothal sky with all my pent-up rage.

Shaking, I asked Shin, "Why are you helping me?'

"I'm not helping you," she said, watching me carefully. "Your daughter deserves to have a family. I would not see her lose either of you, if it was within my power to prevent it."

I blinked, my rage momentarily forgotten. "I . . . I really don't know what to say."

Shin shrugged. "My job here is done, then." She took out her comm-link and proceeded to input a series of commands.

My own comm-link, hanging off my belt, chirped with an alert that a message had been received. I checked it quickly.

"What is this?"

"A place and a time," she responded. "The senator is expecting to meet his private investigator there. I thought you might like to meet him instead."

I considered briefly what Ezra would think. But he wasn't here.

"Thank you," I said. The rage came swarming up again, hot and eager. "I think I will."

_ _ _ _ _

The establishment was on the seedier side of Capital City. A dive, made from the wreckage of several TIE fighters clumped together, that served pirates, drunkards, and other sentient beings of dubious repute.

It was the perfect place for an incognito meeting, considering all the noise and ruckus.

A cloaked figure made his way hurriedly through the crowd, heading for a stone table enclosed in a dimly lit booth on the opposite side of the room. Another figure, slender and hooded, waved him over.

With the utmost discretion, Senator Xiono slid into the booth, huffing slightly. "This update had better have something good," he snarled to the booth's other occupant. "My contacts said you were one of the best, and I have yet to see anything of interest other than what color shoes Wren and Bridger's daughter wears to school!"

I lowered my hood. "I'm sorry you find my family so boring, Senator," I said.

To his credit, Xiono did not scream. His face went bloodless and pale, his lip trembled, his eyes widened - but the man was otherwise quite still.

Somewhere, amidst the storm of rage swirling inside me, I felt mildly impressed.

"Wren," he whispered. "Why are you - "

I placed my hands on the table with a gentle thump. Finally, he flinched.

I smiled, showing my teeth. "Do you read Mandalorian literature, Senator?"

He stared at me - and then, the faintest of sneers appeared on his face. "I wasn't aware your people had literature."

The sneer told me that he had been emboldened by my empty hands. But there were other ways to make someone afraid, I knew.

I nodded. "That's a fair point. Most of it was lost in the Purge. But the best stories always survive through word of mouth. Have you heard of the great Mandalorian warrior of legend named Akilles?"

"I have not." The disdain dripped off his tone, so thick I could almost see it congealing on his lips.

"Shame. You see, Akilles had a friend - another great warrior. One day, he found out that his friend had a mortal enemy, who swore to vanquish them. Akilles, upon finding out, proclaimed that there is no greater enemy than the enemy of his friend."

The ghost of a smile twitched on the senator's face. "Well, it seems that this Akilles and I agree on that."

I let my smile widen, showing more teeth. "Akilles went to confront the mortal enemy of his friend. And he gave him one warning."

I leaned forward; Xiono leaned back, as far as the booth would allow him. It wasn't much.

"There is no weapon; no army that can protect this enemy from the sheer hell that is Akilles rage."

"And," Xiono whispered carefully, "what happened to this enemy?"

"Akilles ran his sword through his gut. And then dragged his dead body throughout the streets of Sundari."

A chill silence fell between us in the booth, only interrupted by the occasional burst of laughter and conversation from the other diners.

The senator swallowed hard, his eye twitching. "What . . . might this enemy have done differently to avoid such a fate?"

I seized the front of his cloak and pulled him half across the table. He yelped, his hands scrambling, clawing for freedom but I ignored his feeble attempts at defense.

I stared into his wide eyes, unblinking. The fury within me seethed and poured molten fire into my next words.

"He could have left the planet. When he still had the chance." At the last word, I threw him back into his seat. He sagged, whimpering something incomprehensible.

I swept from the booth and went home.

_ _ _ _ _

"Mama!" yelled Mira, as I stepped from the turbolift. My daughter jumped into my arms.

"Hello, cyare," I said, squeezing her close. "How was the Academy?"

"It was a lot more fun than I thought. Made lots of friends - and a couple enemies, too," she added, almost as an afterthought.

I looked to Ezra. He shrugged. "I've already gotten some reports from the principal. She was standing up to some bullies."

I sighed and ruffled her hair. "It's a Wren specialty to have some archenemies wherever we go," I noted to him.

He snorted. "Don't I know it."

Mira squinted at me. "What's an 'arch-nemony'?"

I poked her in the forehead. "What, they didn't teach you that in linguistics class? Or, let me guess, you were too busy doodling in your sketchbook to pay attention?"

My daughter scrambled from my embrace. "I just remembered that I have to do homework. Gotta go now!"

I shook my head, amazed at her speed. "Never seen her so excited to do homework. She's hiding something."

"Yup," Ezra said. He glanced at me. "She's not the only one."

I kept my face still, turning to hang my cloak on a nearby coat hook. "What do you mean?"

"Sabine," said Ezra patiently. "Don't hide things from me. It doesn't work."

I scowled at him. "You know, sometimes it sucks being married to a Jedi."

"It's not the Jedi part that's telling me you're hiding something. It's the husband part."

He folded his arms. "Out with it. You were acting weird after lunch and then you vanished with barely a word."

I looked at the door leading to my daughter's room, biting my lip. "Can we talk about this outside? I don't want Mira to hear this."

I felt Ezra's worry rise considerably at my request, but his expression remained calm. "Of course."

Once we stepped outside, I spilled everything to Ezra. All of it.

When I finished, he let out a hiss of air and leaned against the balcony railing.

I went next to him, looking out over the view of Lothal's plains of grass and the glowing lights of Capital City in the distance.

"Bad, I know," I said quietly.

He reached out to take my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We can handle it. But next time, let's do it together, okay?"

As always, my husband's simple enduring faith in a better tomorrow continued to surprise me. "You're not mad?"

He snorted. "Mad at what, Sabine? You being yourself?"

I looked at him, smiling slightly. "You agree with what I did?"

He grimaced. "No . . . but I get why you did it."

My husband gave me a knowing look. "It won't keep him quiet for long. This will just fuel him to dig harder."

I nodded. "I know."

My voice hardened. "But he needed to know, Ezra. What it means to cross my family. Maybe, at least, he'll aim his fury at me next time - and not at you and Mira."

Ezra stood to look me directly in the eye. "Our family, Sabine. Promise me you won't go after him again. Not by yourself."

"I can't - I can't lose you. Either of you," I pleaded. "I can't bear it."

"It won't happen. If he comes after us again, we will face it together. I want your word, Sabine. Swear to me."

I let out a shuddering breath, feeling all the negative emotions escape with it. Then, quietly, I reached out for his hand and brought it to my heart. "I swear on my word and my honor as a Mandalorian," I said.

His blue eyes searched mine - and he nodded once, satisfied. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," I said. "What I did, all those years ago - it won't ever stop haunting us, will it."

"Don't be sorry," he replied softly. “You are worth it. Always. We will find a way."

I didn't know what else to say. I just hugged him close.

We stayed that way for a while, swaying gently with the evening breeze.

Then: "Ewwwwww."

I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?"

"It's finished," Mira said, sounding bored. "I want to play now."

Ezra smiled, shaking his head. "Too smart for her own good," he muttered to me.

"No such thing," I said, mildly offended. "Too smart for her own peace of mind, well, that's a more factual statement."

"And our own," he added.

I grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

"Nope." His smile lessened for a moment. "We had such a busy day. I'm sorry you didn't get a quiet night, like you wanted."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Ah, this is much better. There will be other nights."

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," I said. And we went inside, together.

_ _ _ _ _

I used to be a morning person.

I used to relish being awake in the early morning, watching the galaxy stream by in lines of stars, feeling invincible and young.

I watch my husband and young daughter sleep on the couch, her body sprawled across his lap in the boneless way that only youth can manage.

I don't feel young anymore. Or invincible.

I've traded that away for this. And, yes, it brings fear, and heartache, and the seeds of future joy.

That's life, as I've come to learn. Today was an odd day, full of challenging events, both big and small.

And it was not yet over. I snuggle close to my family - my two hearts, beating in quiet rhythm with one another - and prepare to fall asleep.

Tomorrow is another day. And I will meet it with both of them.

[shuenkio]

-ˋˏ ༻ISEKAI LIFE WITH ENHA ❁༺ ˎˊ-

Paring: Enha X m!reader

Content: Fluff, emotion, [curse words]

Isekai: reincarnated to another world as a mc for a mission

Do not copy my works

Crd to all pics&dividers

Heeseung: The day you were here, was the day of his accession. A crown prince who just became the king of his kingdom, since his father, the previous king got ill in his old age. Despite how fresh he was in this field, his father hired you as his assistant, a royal secretary, he knew that his only son could do everything but he was lacking in making decisions, and he needed some advisor to give him a path, which is you. A few years had passed, and his kingdom was doing well because they had Heeseung who was in charge as a King. But he's not doing it alone, all the royal assistants are included too, especially you. If you are not here with him, he'd make a mistake. His Nation keeps growing and developing however that's not the only thing that grows, his feelings for you are also growing. Ofc the rule can't be in love with a lower class like you but he can't stop the feeling, love is love, the fact that you're a boy, made it even worse nevertheless he doesn't give a damn about it, you make him this way, Love.

"Don't worry M/N, if I can't have you nobody will, and please don't push me away, I've loved you since the day you made my life easier, so please give me this chance to make me yours, and you're mine?" You stood on the spot, unable to open your mouth nor to make a move before a system popped out in front of you and announced "You've completed your secret quest: make King Lee fall for you!" What!

Jay: He'd be likely a Royal captain, a masculine man, who stood strong for his country, a bloody demon war who takes victory home every time. You were reincarnated into his student, a training soldier. However things are kinda complicated for you since this is back in the past, a historical world where they didn't have technology, everything was going along with tradition, religion, manners and behavior was a big problem if you did something wrong. Soon enough after half a year, you have become familiar with your life and now is a royal soldier just like what you had been trained for. You had participated in some war and gained a great experience from it which gives an impression to Jay. One day during the bloody time, Jay was in bad shape while fighting with the other captain, he couldn't move because of his wounds as a result he was on the ground right now, moving his body by using his hands. You too were in critical shape, or maybe even worse than him, blood stained all over your body, every corner however for the love of country, and to protect the captain, you're risking your life by shielding him with your body at the very last moment when the opponent drawing a sword toward Jay. A sword cut through your rib, blood dripping, but that didn't stop you, with a dagger in your hand, pressed through against your enemy too. In return them and you, fall to the ground, lifelessly. Jay's eyes wide open, speechless reaction can't even explain well before taking your body, holding you close to him. A captain never cries, but he might break this rule. He brawled his eyes out, and didn't give a fuck about his surrounding.

"Please stay with me, M/N!! you can't die you can't do that, it's my order!!" He shouted, couldn't accept what he'd witnessed rn. "I-- *coughing* have completed my mission -- my lord! My mission is to protect you at all costs, for now since you're okay I think I can close my eyes peacefully ever after... Thanks for everything Captain - Jay" "System: Mission completed!"

Jake: A cowboy from an unknown village, he's quite a popular guy in the town because of his handsome face. Every girl wanted him so badly that even their body, they can give it to Jake without hesitation. However all their doing is no effort to him, he's recently development his sexuality, and he has only a spot for men. Meanwhile, you are an odd boy, who has white hair with blue eyes in the village, which gives a reason for the people to hate on you because, at that time, something odd is what a demon does. On one fine day, while people are bullying you, throwing kinds of stuff at you, Jake suddenly appear and protects you from all those bad things before saying something to them, and they're gone in an instant. He asks if you're ok, you just reply with a dry response since you don't trust people for now. He Pause for a moment to appreciate your beauty while you reply to him, then snap out after you ask him again. He rubs his nape, asking you if you want to be his friend so he can protect you, you decide to give in and accept his request because he's the only one who cares about you. Day by day passed, he taught you about people's daily life, what should they do, what should they eat, blah blah as well as took you to a different place, the sea, the mountains, a place where you never wanted to visit before. In the end, you fail to keep your feelings and make a decision to confess your feelings to him. Under the starry night, watching the shooting star, both of you sitting beside each other, admiring the night galaxy, he doesn't say anything back once you tell him how you feel toward him. Before letting out a relieved sigh, speak.

"I've been waiting for that line for how long, I like you at the very first sight but I choose to make you confess to me first darling~" "mission: ___✓___"

Sunghoon: You and him are childhood friends, but you don't remember anything since you're just reincarnated into this boy's body which you assume, is a prince. Sunghoon is also a prince so it makes sense that both kingdoms are in a good relationship together. Soon enough, Sunghoon's kingdom is throwing a ball party, his father already has a plan, to find a suitable princess for him by doing this. Sunghoon didn't like it, to say that he freaking hate it, he don't want nobody, he don't need a wife, he don't want to start a family, he want to be free and not follow the king's path, he don't want to be a king. The queen tries to convince him, but nothing will do, he's a man of his word, whatever he spitted he'd never swallow it back. You arrived at the ball, in your nice-looking royal designer suit. You look around trying to find your childhood friend, and then suddenly someone pulls your hand before taking you away to a quiet place. You try to release yourself from this person's grip but fail eventually because of how strong he is, even his face you can't see it. When both of you reached the private place, he immediately stopped, and released your hand before turning around, revealing his face, Park Sunghoon! You question him why did he this before he kneeled and cried, at your knee. You began to panic and asked him why. Why? "Your Highness, you can't do this please stand up, if people see you like this, they might assume things!!" You speak, with your shaking voice, the feeling of scared washing all over your body. "M/n...*sobbing* my father and mother want me to get married, I... I don't wanna do this anymore, I wanted to be free, please tell me m/n what should I do!?" He continues to tear apart, you've never seen him in such a state before. "Your Highness, we can settle this in the Palace, we can't talk about something like this here!" You respond, however, it's didn't work."I don't want anyone but you, I want only you m/n! I know it's crazy to love someone who's the same sex as you but I can't help it... And please d-don't leave me ×2 you are the only one I needed the most" the last sentence when he said that, draws attention to you, making you wonder why in the world he said that. "Pardon your highness I don't understand what you're trying to say... I'm not going anywhere! I'm here" You become all sweaty, there's no way he knows who you are.

"I discovered your diary m/n I know everything, even if your mission had been completed some time ago, just please promise me you won't go anywhere, I LOVE you!"

Sunoo: Sunshine Boy would be the innocent, gorgeous, pretty face, and the son of a rich family in the town. He likes flowers, perfume, accessories, and many nice things that scream pretty! But besides his innocent looking and behavior, he had two faces, where the other one is purely evil, and got in his way, making him pissed off, in the next day there'll be a funeral in the town. However despite this personality, he does it for good, he only bullies those bad, pervert guys who take advantage of the girls. When you were doing your quest during the day, walking through the market in full black, his eyes landed on you, while he was doing his business. He thought you were one of those guys, so he began to follow you until both of you, reached the dark alley. You notice someone is following you, so you quickly hide yourself in the shadows. While he was looking for you, you suddenly appeared behind him and asked in a creepy tone why is he here. But the man was too starlet to the point he almost peed himself, so you took off your hood and revealed your face, which calmed him a little bit because of your kind-looking face or maybe not. He and you exchange information together and soon enough he realizes what you're doing, is the same as him so he wants to team up with you to take out the bad guys in the town for humanity together. You didn't deny it since it's a part of your mission too. A mission together with him every night is like a new experience with you, you get to know a lot of things in this world, how the system works and many more that have shocked you. Later on, one day after putting the bad guys in the cage, at midnight with him, both of you sitting on the clock tower, you know how huge it is. Eating your dinner while he steals a glance at you, makes you wonder after all the work with him, as a duo did he feel the same feeling you just discovered? Probably not, you thought this world was so close-minded about having a relationship with the same sex so you decided to not let any word out of your mouth even though you wanted to. Little did you know, he also felt the same way, he also found out he was drawn toward you, the word I like you is not enough to explain his love for you, he likes you... A little bit much. "M/n? Can I ask you something? Don't be mad at me ok? I'm being honest" he said, looking at the moon, that shining bright. You nod, waiting for his response. "It's crazy we've done this together many times and I feel like this part of me still wants you to be here, working with me for all the innocent live here but I think it's got a bit worse than I thought, I don't think you as a partner, I think you are more than a partner to me, more than a friend, and I'm sorry to feel this way, it's ok if you don't feel the same way, I just feel a pressure in my chest if I don't let it out-" he pauses before continuing.

"I like you m/n even though we just met a few months ago, i like you so much that I dream about it, i like you-" You couldn't bear all his heart confession and didn't want to keep him, thinking you didn't feel the same, you cupping his face before slamming your lip against his, his eyes wide open like he was just seen a ghost, then he realized what you mean before returning your kiss, smiling during the kiss. Maybe this mission isn't bad after all.

Jungwon: A young farmer boy who likes taking care of his animals and farm. He is a normal civilian just like everybody, people love him because of how adorable he looks, especially his charm, and dimples. When he discovered you lying down lifelessly on the street while he coming back home, he immediately picked you up, carried you to his house and took care of your injury. You were thankful that there are some kind people here, in this world you're assigned into You thought you would die on that street, freezing to death already but guess fate won't let you die this easy. At the time of his taking care of your sickness, he gave all his might to treat you until you recovered. Again after you have recovered, you thank him for being there for you when you were at your lowest point, and will do anything to pay back for his kindness. He smiled softly at your statement but he said it's fine, he doesn't need anything back, and he likes to see people happy. Once you hear that You just want to give him everything in the world for him, everything he wishes for, however at the moment you don't have anything with you, only yourself with his clothes on that he gives you. You have no better idea, but a hug for him is the least you can do right? You figured it out and decided to give him a tight hug, giving him all the warmth and kindness back to him. His gaze grew soft before resting his chin on your head, giving you the hug you wanted. You keep on giving him your squeezing hug until a system box pops in front of your eyes.

"Secret mission completed: you just made someone fall in love with you!"

Ni-ki: In the third POV, he would be a young pirate, despite his young age, he has been traveling across the sea for his entire life now, so his experience on the water is unstoppable and god-like. He had destroyed hundreds of hundred boats in the past few years, for now, he's the captain of his ship, a fear pirate whom everyone's Afraid of. He doesn't know what's the word rest or sleep since he always pulling all-nighters almost every single day, a part of him said he can't blink or else. In the course of fishing, his worker spotted you lying on an empty log, floating around the ocean, Ni-ki might be a heartless and cruel person but he was once in your shoes, and he didn't want to repeat it just like his ugly past, so he take you in on his ship. Later than for the last few months, you choose to work for him to survive and it's also your mission to do this too, and you didn't know for how long. It's a bit strange that your system didn't show or give information to you, therefore you don't give much care about it, it's better to be alive than die on this wide ocean. While you're staying on this ship, you like to write everything down in your diary book, even your past life and your mission here in this world you are in. One time you were drunk after drinking all the wine, and accidentally burst into the pirate's room because of your vision. You plop down on his bed, as you thought it was your bed, Ni-ki just sitting at his workplace, legs crossing, watching you intensely Before hearing your mumble words about your life and your mission. The next day, while you were moping the floor, he unexpectedly revealed himself behind you, an evil smirk growing on his face he liked teasing you. When you notice his presence, you lower your head as a sign of respect before greeting him a good morning.

"It's a beautiful morning isn't it m/n? Haa... I wish you could stay longer here with me" he spoke, trying to sound oblivious. "my lord, what do you mean by that?" You nervously respond while holding on to the mopping broom tightly. "Don't act dumb kitty, I have gone through all your dairy book, and your make-no-sense words last night when you were drunk, now that I got all the missing pieces, I finally get it, don't worry m/n! Once you step your foot here, you can't leave this ship until the day we grow old together, and Don't even think about leaving, if you don't want me to do something on you~ my sweetheart!"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ this is the hardest work I've done, and also I can't promise I will update tomorrow.

🗣️ CRD to all the owners of dividers.

[bonefall]

I'm still wading through some brain fog so I'm not writing as much as I want to, currently. But I have just been absently sketching Willowpelt because she's been on my mind

I had initially been working with the "hyena" face in mind, but I've been playing around with the "villainous role" idea for Ferncloud's Parting. I mentioned it to my partner who pointed out that big, strong profiles like that are overused for "vengeful" characters.

Besides, I really love drawing that face shape anyway, so I figured I'd move away from it since it's going to be on a LOT of RiverClan cats in particular (they have longer muzzles than other Clans because they hunt in water).

I'm leaning towards "bat" now... maybe I'll retool it so it's more deer-like. Deer are totally underused as inspiration for harsh characters...

Anyway ready for some WIP material? Plus a recap of Ferncloud's Parting for all who need a refresher

(oh wow it got long. The power of girlies <3)

FERNCLOUD'S PARTING... Refresher!!

Replaces Graystripe's Vow completely, taking place just after the Impostor has been deposed and is imprisoned. Ferncloud is now the main POV, accompanied on her journey by her childhood best friend Cloudtail and the Impostor's surviving lackey, Bumblestripe.

The goal of this SE is to explore Ferncloud's relationship to her younger brother, Ashfur.

(BB canon: Ferncloud and Elderberry are the older kits of Brindleface. Ashkit was a singlet born shortly before his mother's death, raised by Fern, Elder, and their grandmother One-eye. Fireheart botched the Queen's Rights while claiming Cloudkit, but for all intents and purposes was socially his Mi... which he was not good at being. Cloudtail was Ashfur's mentor and Ferncloud's childhood friend.)

Ferncloud is asking herself the question; "What could I have done to prevent this?"

A lot of secondary questions revolve around this... Does this make her responsible for what Ashfur has done? Did she teach him anything that contributed to who he is today? Does that make her responsible?

Cloudtail is in a similar situation, as Ashfur's mentor and someone who only ever wanted to help his friend. Could HE have prevented this? He wants to find out.

Graystripe, oldest cat in ThunderClan, accompanies the little group as far as the mountain... and decides to stay there, with his golden boy, Stormfur.

Bumblestripe had come along with them all, for... a lot of complicated reasons. But the most relevant is that he had been one of the Impostor's most loyal, brutal enforcers. Berrynose was killed in a huge skirmish, and now there's just Bumblestripe left alone to shoulder his sins.

After saying goodbye to his father for what's probably the last time, getting to meet the mythical oldest brother he's been compared to his entire life, and seeing Cloud and Fern looking to visit the Old Forest Territories... Bumblestripe goes with them even further to make sure the old cats stay safe.

Like Graystripe's Vow, I'm planning to keep the split chronology. It goes back and forth between Ferncloud in the Broken Era, and Ferncloud back during the Fire Era.

The ultimate moral here, the point I want to build to, is that Cloudtail and Ferncloud did exactly what was expected of them. They raised a loyal warrior who holds the code above all. They're only responsible for Ashfur insofar as they were responsible for teaching him the same values of vengeance, violence, and distrust of outsiders as was expected... in Firestar's absence.

(Though... there's lots of other questions that I don't think FP will answer. Like, COULD they have truly stopped him? Can they ever understand WHY, if they don't currently? There's a LOT of feelings here and I don't know if all of them really have answers.)

WIP STUFF TIME

Here's new stuff, I've either not mentioned this before, or I've mentioned it in passing without actually linking it to Ferncloud's Parting.

I have a LOT of ideas here that I have to start sorting through. I think these characters are all really interesting so it's really a matter of cutting down all these little details into something more coherent.

When Ashkit is young, he's a child. There was nothing particularly outstanding about him, besides the fact he was a bit lonely and eager to please.

There's a bit of an air of "loss" when Ferncloud thinks back to Ashpaw's childhood. Elderberry and One-eye will be dying soon after the "flashback" segments, so when she goes back to the modern era, thinking about them feels bittersweet.

I also want to sneak in that Ferncloud feels jealous over Cloudtail's mateship with Brightheart lmao, because she has a crush on Brightheart. (Note, maybe tie this to Ashfur being obsessed with Squirrelflight, with Fern questioning if her jealousy rubbed off on Ashfur)

Through helping WarriorClan, Bumblestripe feels REALLY good. They don't know anything about his past, his struggles, or his failures as a person. He's just a hero to them and that feels... good.

Watching Bumblestripe be good, learning more about his issues and WHY he did what he did while following Ashfur brings Cloud and Fern some insight... but not entirely what they need. Is Ashfur just a Bumblestripe on a bigger scale? Or are they just learning more about how good of a manipulator Ashfur is? In which case... where did that ability to manipulate come from?

Fang/Honeysuckle might be Bumblestripe's half-brother. If that's the case, Bumble is... frustrated by it. MORE of his dad's complicated legacy.

Ferncloud and Cloudtail probably have some short discussions about how much is really appropriate to teach to WarriorClan... after all, they're here questioning if any part of Ashfur was THEIR fault, what if they accidentally teach them something terrible?

But at the same time, Ferncloud is the Educator of ThunderClan, and these cats can't write. The Glyph system would be very useful to them, and they're begging to learn more about Clan culture.

Putting a pin in that part, for now. Will tie back more into the conclusion that the Clan cat party ultimately reaches.

BACK IN THE PAST; Firestar is away bringing back SkyClan in Firestar's Quietus. Everything that is done is without him.

Longtail, the deputy, is blinded and a leader does not immediately rise to fill the space in ThunderClan.

And in BloodClan, their trading partner... Scourge does the same. Oops! WRONG TIME, SCOOJ!

Planning to retire, Scourge announces an event called The Frenzy. He will choose the next leader from whoever accomplishes the biggest achievement in the given timeframe. This is how BloodClan passes on leadership.

He gives his chosen heir, Claw, their first Frenzy Achievement-- the fang of a dog from his own collar. Anyone who wishes to take power instead must accomplish a feat even bigger than what had allowed SCOURGE to take power in the first place; Killing a dog.

Fury is a challenger. She does NOT want Scourge's chosen heir, Claw, to lead BloodClan next. Claw will continue the trading and friendliness towards Clan cats, which Fury wants to end.

ENTER WILLOWPELT

Willowpelt ALSO wants this trading with BloodClan to stop. She feels it's gone too far.

BloodClan killed her mate-- Whitestorm. Firestar might have been willing to just throw his life away for this, but she's NOT.

She's recovering from a boar bite, currently, but it's scarring up nicely... and she's willing to pretend she's injured a little longer if it shakes suspicion off her.

She doesn't WANT to be allies with Fury, but if her goal is to bring BloodClan back into isolation... then, Willowpelt will do it.

And Fury promises her something else; Revenge. Scourge is the reason why Whitestorm died, and together, they can ruin his plans and make him watch as his peaceful little power transfer crumbles into ash.

GOOD SETUP IMO but I still need to work out what nefarious deed they'll do, exactly. All I know is that Fury will betray Willowpelt at the height of it. Maybe something about taking over Barley's barn. Maybe Elderberry gets killed.

But, I have one very strong feeling in mind; Ferncloud probably ends up killing Fury while Ashpaw watches or even helps.

Hmm... maybe Graystripe (becomes deputy as soon as Firestar gets back for handling this crisis so well) ordered them to let Fury go.

But Ferncloud looked at Fury, and decided that Willowpelt was right about one thing. Most BloodClan cats cannot be trusted.

The code does not apply equally to outsiders.

Maybe I WILL have Fury end up killing Elderberry in some way, and then give Ferncloud and Ashpaw a conversation about it. "Those who don't live by the code will not be protected by it. And we must protect our Clan... even if Graystripe doesn't realize it."

I could make it clear that Fury is not a threat at that point, having been beaten in some way and Claw ascending to BloodClan leadership. OR I could have left it open-ended, like, maybe Fury would be a future problem, maybe not. Not sure yet.

Willowpelt of course will also need to experience some consequences for this... unleeeess, I have Graystripe let her off really easy exactly because she's Clanborn, which even Cloudtail is frustrated about, maybe even coining the term "Codebreaker" as an insult under his breath.

In any case, Ferncloud never told Cloudtail about how she secretly killed Fury. It's too juicy to have her reveal it to him in the modern day, explaining that it IS her fault, she DID teach him the wrong thing.

Hmm... I'm talking myself into it. Though I did also like the original vibe that Ashfur's tyranny was kind of unknowable, trying to make sense out of a senseless thing he did. I think it feels a lot more interesting for Ferncloud to have been hiding this for literal years, and now feeling like she has to "pay the world back" for what she did.

Maybe even build towards something metal about Fury's grave. Hmm... maybe to hide the murder, she buried her in Elderberry's freshly dug one, since no one would notice the soil had been recently disturbed as it was JUST dug.

Buried my sister and my secret victim in the same grave. ~Just Girlie Things~

Cloudtail sitting here, War Criminal to the right and Secret Murderer to the left like "can i ever be around normal people. like, just once"

Jokes aside... Cloudtail needs to point out something very important. Ferncloud regretted what she did, and she never did what Ashfur is doing. She never sought power, when Firestar came back she's lived a long life without ever once undermining him, and even her beliefs have softened over time.

She was a Traditionalist back then, but is Fire Alone now. After everything. The destruction of the forest, loss of her kits, WindClan rebellion, reveal of Squirrelflight and Leafpool's secret...

She's helped to raise every new generation as the Educator. And yet, Ashfur, the Impostor, is unique.

And look at Bumblestripe... being Graystripe's son didn't stop him from being the Impostor's lackey.

We all make our choices. HE made his. You made your own.

But... I don't feel like Ferncloud can entirely accept that as an answer either. There would be a very forlorn sort of feeling here. Yes, we all make our own choices-- but we influence each other. For better and for worse. And she refuses to avoid responsibility for that.

Maybe in that moment I'll have her make the choice to return home, and BE the one who becomes the Light in the Mist to face Ashfur in the Dark Forest. Seems to be coming together.

[turbulenthandholding]

Sydney's polka dots and Yayoi Kusama

I wrote about it a little bit here, in a reblog of @thoughtfulchaos773's really excellent post (and ongoing thread) about Carmy's polka dots in his sauce but I have wondered since my first watch of S3, if there is some reference in all of the polka dots (Sydney's except for Carmy's sauce) to the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama.

Pumpkins and Fruits (1993)

Kusama is an artist who works in a number of mediums, including sculpting and painting, but who is primarily known for her works featuring polka dots, both paintings as well as installations of polka dots in mirrored rooms (as well as even live art installations with naked people painted with polka dots).

There's two threads in her art that I think are particularly interesting, if all of Sydney's polka dots are at all referential to Kusama's work: mental health and sexuality.

Mental Health

The genesis of polka dots in Kusama's art came from her childhood, where as early as age 10 she had hallucinations of spots.

“I translate the hallucinations and obsessional images that plague me into sculptures and paintings."

And from Wikipedia:

Kusama has been open about her mental health and has resided since the 1970s in a mental health facility which she leaves daily to walk to her nearby studio to work. She says that art has become her way to express her mental problems. "I fight pain, anxiety, and fear every day, and the only method I have found that relieved my illness is to keep creating art," she told an interviewer in 2012. "I followed the thread of art and somehow discovered a path that would allow me to live."

I think Sydney's polka dots, viewed through the lens of Kusama's art, could be an indication of the healthiness of using creativity and collaboration in the kitchen as a way to process and work through past trauma as well as anxiety. As Kusama's art has given her a path allowing life, as she said, Sydney's polka dots could represent that Carmy has a path to improved mental health and a better place through his collaboration with Syd and their mutual inspiration. Carmy spends a lot of season 3 doing things for Sydney instead of with her, and his reflection of her polka dots in his sauce stands out as a reflection and a growing recognition in him of the full depth of her importance to him.

Sexuality

Which brings me to the second potential reference to Kusama's work in the polka dots, which is a reference to sexuality.

Sexuality has played a very complicated and, even at times disturbing, role in Kusama's life and she has used her art as a way to process it and reconcile her sexuality with herself. She was traumatized early by an abusive mother who sent her to spy on her cheating father as he conducted his affairs, which led to a reaction towards anything sexual filled with a lot of disgust (understandably). Over the course of her career, she grappled more and more with her feelings on sexuality in her art, with many representation both of female and male genitals in her work. As one article says:

Her works often depict phallic shapes and repetitive patterns, which she has said are meant to represent the human obsession with sex and desire. Kusama’s art also explores themes of self-obliteration and the loss of self in the face of infinite repetition.

Phalli's Field (1965) - first mirrored room installation, filled with phallic shapes made out of fabric and cardboard, covered in polka dots.

From Stir World:

While the work circled back to the phallic motif, the design intervention of using mirrors created an architecture of infinite space. This was the beginning of what revolutionised her career so much so that in 2016, she was chosen as one of the world’s most influential people by TIME magazine. Since then, her exhibitions of infinity rooms like Love is Calling have had waiting lines of over five hours for a few seconds of viewing time. 

Especially when Kusama combines polka dots with mirrored infinity rooms as she calls them, there is very much a sense of both reflectivity and reflexivity that happens. An interesting example in terms of this discussion, Infinity Mirrored Room - Love Forever (1966/1994), the polka dots in this room being represented by round, colored light bulbs:

A description of the installation (emphasis mine):

Infinity Mirrored Room—Love Forever is an iteration of the second mirrored environment Kusama created. Sculptural, architectural, and performative, the installation blurs the lines between artistic disciplines and is activated by audience participation. Hexagonal in shape and mirrored on all sides, Love Forever features two peepholes that invite visitors to peer in and see both themselves and another participant repeated into infinity. 

Kusama used her polka dots, especially when integrated into more phallic shapes in reflective rooms, to process and come to grips with her sexuality. And if there was an intentional reference being made to her art in Sydney's proclivity towards polka dots in season 3, I think it's in Carmy's coopting of the imagery in his sauce. The reflective and reflexive gesture indicates his observation of her (in that he noticed her repeating the pattern over the course of months in her clothes and scarves) as well as his desire for her. At their best, they are vibrantly collaborative and we see each of them let the other in more than anyone else. And this isn't entirely comfortable for Sydney, seen in the way she deflects his questions about her parents and her apartment at different points. But she does eventually tell him more and let him in more - and I think the polka dots could also be a representation of her coming to grips with her feelings and ultimately desire towards/for him, as well as the importance of their collaborative relationship, especially with the difficulty of Carmy in S3 as well as her offer from Shapiro.

(Also as an aside, Yayoi Kusama's art comes up as a rather regular inspiration/collaboration in food and fine dining, so it feels like her art may at least have been on someone's radar as they thought about Syd's polka dots this season. See here and here and here and here and here - as created by a former chef from the French Laundry.)

Sources for info and pictures:

Yayoi Kusama's website

Understanding Sexuality in Yayoi Kusama's Art

Accumulation (MoMA)

Wikipedia

The Alchemist of Polka Dots

Love Forever

[thegrayascendancy-if]

Short story

Another milestone, another moment for me to show appreciation to you guys. I've spoken of this one before, so here is a short story of the first meeting between Arthur and Gale. I've been battling for a bit, thinking what exactly I want to show here, and this version finally nails it. Please, enjoy!

The adults were whispering at each other hotly but Mother had told him to behave and do not even try to listen in—so he did not. Mother's mood was often a fickle thing and if it were to ruin quickly, she would have left the carriage and not come with them. And without Mother, those trips were simply not fun.

Arthur dropped his gaze instead to the heavy tome in his lap. It was a gift—presented to his Father for some reason but then handed down to Arthur anyway. It was a messy and complicated read, like all adult things. He couldn't stand to follow the letters with the way the carriage was rocking, but the drawings were little short of life-like. He was long past the middle of the book, but he kept coming back to the part about the fog-hounds: giant beasts with fiery eyes and impossible bodies made of fog. The long daggers of their claws were painted with such true artistry that he could almost feel them prick his fingertips as he kept tracing the intricate lines on the paper. The text around the drawing was difficult, and Arthur refused to admit he barely understood what it said: in his mind, he had long decided they spawned out of large, engulfing fires, and he preferred his version anyway.

"My dear, we're here."

His ears perked up before he let his eyes drift to the source of the sound. The carriage had indeed stopped, but his stomach was still in knots.

Mother's sharp eyes were watching him. Tired and a little troubled, but they held the warmth he so craved.

"Now, Artie," Mother said as she leaned toward him, her dress softly rustling, "none of the talk we do at home, remember? Not even a peep. We are in the royal palace now." She glided a thumb over his cheek, gently pressing into it as he nodded. Mother smiled then and spoke fondly, "Good... You have such striking eyes, just like your father's."  

As if that was a command, Arthur glanced at his father who cleared his throat and fixed the slump of his shoulders. Arthur did not understand what made him, the man who had never taken pride in his appearance, perk up. Perhaps it was the arrival to the palace, but he thought better than to question it. He carefully closed the book and laid it on the cushion next to him.

Father exited first, then Mother, leaning on Father's hand, and, finally, Arthur by himself. People were waiting for them already, lined up before the broad white stairs. They had never exited only to see no one there.

He waited to be introduced, hands behind his back, but his gaze kept drifting upwards, to the spires and seemingly endless balconies with the connecting walkways and arches. The palace looked like an endless maze with ever-shifting rooms and silhouettes disappearing in the windows. He loved the way it was made: of surfaces that were cold and smooth to the touch, yet so intricate they looked as if they grew out of the nearby rock like mushroom shelves on a tree.

Arthur was so distracted, Mother had to give him a soft nudge on the back to snap him out of it, and he followed his parents inside.

The preparations were well underway, with expensive fabrics being hung and all the lights fitted with the candles in every corner of the palace, even the ones Arthur did not believe people ever stepped in. The smells of food were carefully faint, but they promised a generous, lavish feast anyway. Through a crack in the doors down the corridor they marched, he spotted numerous silver trays with fruit and cuts of meat, breads twisted in the shapes of animals.

But they kept on walking, led down a wide hall and then up the stairs by a man in an important mantle and with an exceptionally straight back. Looking at him made Arthur too aware of the stiff collar around his neck, its stitching rich and solid, yet aggravatingly inconvenient if he needed to look down at his feet.

Once they arrived at the lodgings offered by the Crown—explicitly suggested to remain at the palace over their Rimehall estate—Mother disappeared into one of the bedrooms, trailed by the court ladies. Father explained to him that he was to speak to someone and Arthur could use the time to roam around, but only if he swore to behave.

He did.

The chaos of the preparations turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. The halls looked busier, and if he wasn't in the way, he was looked at and acknowledged with either a smile or his title and the full length of his name. At the same time, he felt like almost more passages were open because of the need to carry massive kettles, tables and crates, and Arthur managed to sneak into parts of the palace he had never seen.

At some point, a passing servant smiled at him and offered him an apple: giant, red and ripe, crisply cracking in his ears upon the first bite. And so, working on the surprising but welcome snack, he roamed just like he had promised. Avoiding trouble, staying out of the way and gawking at the tall ceilings and stopping by the arched lengths of the windows.

After a while, he found himself outside, overlooking the inner yard. Tall stairs led down towards a plain of withering grass, marred with foot trails. Here and there, islands of taller plants appeared: massive trees sprouting from a thickness of other vegetation. The balcony served an impressive view of the city as it cascaded down the hill and to its feet like a long mantle. Each roof resembled a toy, an illustration, and he could not remember seeing it like this even from a window up above. Mesmerized, he watched, first placing the half-eaten apple on the marble balustrade, then, wanting to see how the city spanned the steep part of the hill, he started to climb on top of it himself.  

It wasn't easy. His outfit of thick fabric allowed only for gentle and polite movements. He managed to get one leg up with much effort, but the resulting swing of his foot knocked off the apple over the edge.

Silence. Rustling, thud.

"Ow!"

Arthur froze with one leg on the balustrade. If someone was hurt... He had sworn he would behave. Oh, Mother would be so cross with him, and Father would look from under his furrowed brows and never let Arthur out of his sight until the end of the trip.

Slowly, he crept back, heart thumping hollowly in his chest. He looked back at the path back into the palace but he could not retreat. The trace of his misdemeanor was right there.

He winced and, forbidding himself to think on it further, dashed down the stairs. The wind was kicking up his hair, offering relief to the skin that was growing warmer with each moment.

He stopped where he thought the apple had landed. But there was nothing.

He was staring at a stripe of some bushes with large leaves, growing up against the palace wall. The apple had to be somewhere, and if he could pick it up and dash back into the palace, no one would be the wiser.

But no. Searching for the apple, he found a boy.

Small and clad in dark and plain clothes from neck to toe, he was easy to miss in the tapestry of leaves and stems. His hair was dark too, eyes green and looking sleepy. Despite that, he was staring back at Arthur.

None of them said a word. Arthur glanced at the empty yard and then back at the figure in the bushes.

"Please, don't look," the boy pleaded in a whisper.

"What are you doing?" Immediately, he felt bad for using his normal voice. He should have whispered too.

"Hiding."

Huh. It had never even occurred to Arthur to hide. From anything, anyone, though he probably had wanted to at many points in his life. He felt a hot, aching ball in his chest. Borne of a simple word, it swelled, fed by disappointment and embarrassment. To fight it, to stop the spread of the warm blush on his cheeks, he dashed into the bushes.

The other boy hissed, more surprised than hurt, but still.

In his rash behavior, Arthur had tapped him with his knee. To him, the impact was negligible, but he knew the right thing to do.

"Sorry—" Got promptly shushed. "Sorry," he whispered then.

They sat like that for a while, listening to the distant sounds of the palace bustle. Arthur felt his breathing slow down but the excitement was still there.

He turned to the other boy and discovered, much to his surprise, that he was covering his head, knees pulled close to his chest. Arthur didn't know what to make of it.

"I'm Arthur," he offered at a loss. It felt odd and bare, a lie even, not to attach any title to it, but for some reason, he was convinced that Margrave van der Garde would not have sat in any bushes. He also felt a burn on his cheek.

"...Gale."

He didn't know any Gale. Not until then, at least.

"Who are you hiding from, Gale?"

The younger boy tried to suppress a smile at the question and struggled to appear very serious. The sight of the smile, even if fleeting, soothed Arthur, because his suspicion had been grim. What did one even have to hide from in the royal palace?

"From Frederick," Gale finally managed, glancing at Arthur first quickly, then with rounded eyes. "You are bleeding."

He almost forgot to whisper. Arthur brought his finger to the spot on his face that Gale had pointed to. It came back with a trace of bright red, so bright it looked like juice.

"Just a branch," he said calmly, but the sight of his blood was rare. Arthur struggled to look away but knew he needed to. For whatever inexplicable reason, he wanted to appear strong and unbothered by the things as simple as a cut. He was hiding and Arthur was perhaps already ruining it with his larger form, a dark red outfit, and now with his blood.

But Gale did not look convinced. His brows twisted in worry and hands stopped covering his head, although without a clear plan he was just sitting there. Worried.

They both were.

Time simply crawled by. The concern for his mortality was easing its grip on Arthur. He managed to smile.

"And when is Fred—"

The sound of steps barged in on them. Then they heard skirts ruffle.

Gale grew stock still.

"Oh, just where are you?!" a woman's voice called out. She was quickly approaching them, and all Arthur could do was foolishly hope they wouldn't be found.

But her sharp eyes picked him out like he was a sparking metal plate.

"What is... What is this nonsense!" She nearly ran for them. Gale looked crestfallen, and Arthur was completely void of ideas.

"Why are you—No!" She grabbed Arthur, although without roughness, and pulled him out. Her voice got noticeably softer. "Young Lord, what are you doing?!"

She eyed him toe to head, gaze stopping on his cheek.

"And he has hurt you?! Oh goodness, this is a disaster!.. Gale, get out of there. Now."

"He did nothing, that was all my fault!" Arthur complained, her hand still around his upper arm. He sensed that she was trembling. Confused, he watched as Gale climbed out with his head bowed down. But it didn't seem like the woman was willing to hear him out.

"First I can't get anything out of Frederick on where you are," she scolded, glaring at Gale, "and now you go and hurt an esteemed guest! You were alone with him!"

"He didn't—"

First, without looking, she tucked Arthur out of Gale's view.

"Young Lord," she turned to Arthur then with an immediate smile. That her face could change so quickly was a wonder. "Let me get you back inside to have you taken care of."

"It is fine. It doesn't hurt."

Her smile became even sweeter. "Margrave van der Garde. We simply cannot have you wearing scrapes on the Princess' birthday."

She started to drag him, only to stop after a few steps and snap to her full height.

"Stay here," he directed sternly at Gale, his eyes cast to the ground. "I will return and I will find you here."

And the fussy woman proceeded to take him inside.

[hoboal87]

Don't Speak, Part 22

Pairings: dark!Sam x Reader, dark!Dean x Claire

Characters: dark!Sam, dark!Dean, pregnant!Reader, Claire, Ellen, Bobby, Adam

Warnings: dark!Winchesters, Trauma Bonding/Stockholm Syndrome, Non-graphic descriptions of Non-Con/Rape, Violence, Manipulation, Guilt, Threats, Pregnancy

WC: 3400+

beta’d by the wonderful, lovely, @writethelifeyouwant

This is a dark!fic that includes potentially triggering content and is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for your own media consumption, so please, read the warnings and if you feel that you may be triggered and/or offended please move along. If you have any questions about the warnings/tags please feel free to DM me.

Don’t Speak Masterlist

My Full Masterlist

Part 21

The sight of Adam nearly causes you to faint. You have hoped, prayed, that somehow he managed to escape–that he wouldn’t also fall victim to the brothers–and your heart pounds in your chest as you take in the sight of him. Old and new cuts and bruises cover every visible inch of his body, his eyes are sunken in, his skin taut, and he looks as if hasn’t slept or eaten in weeks. A ratty shirt that had once fit him properly is now held together by mere threads and covered in dried blood stains. But the worst part is the metal collar locked around his neck, connecting to his wrists and ankles. Adam’s gaze fixes on you for a moment, the ghost of a smile on his lips fading quickly when Sam tugs sharply on the shackles.

You want to run to him, apologize for ever bringing him into your complicated relationship with the Winchesters. You should’ve disobeyed John, especially now that you know that it wasn’t Adam who fathered your baby after all, and you were already pregnant when the family left in January. If you’d only waited a few weeks longer to fulfill John’s instructions, you could’ve saved yourself and Adam from all the pain that you caused by following those orders. You stop yourself from moving, especially when you realize that Sam’s eyes are narrowed in on you, as if he’s waiting to see what you’re going to do now that Adam is here. 

“Check her,” Dean orders, gesturing towards Claire, baby Amelia still in his arms. Adam doesn’t move, his eyes flickering to Sam, as if he’s asking him for permission to follow Dean’s instruction. What has Sam done to him? “Now, Milligan.” 

Sam nods, loosening his grip before producing a key, he unlocks the chains and Adam shuffles towards Claire. Dean hands the baby over to you, stepping back to Sam, who offers a hand to shake his brother’s in congratulations.

You rock the baby in your arms as Adam inspects Claire, taking in her tiny features. Though you knew it wouldn’t matter who fathered Amelia, you can’t help but think of the relief that Claire will have knowing that her husband is Amelia’s father. She’s the spitting image of Dean, plump lips and a button nose and large almond shaped eyes, irises already tinged with green. As the brothers share hushed words between them, you walk back towards Claire, shushing Amelia as she begins to stir. Adam offers a sweet smile to Claire telling her that she did well before giving strict instructions to stay on bedrest for the next week. He then turns to you, reaching out to take the baby from your arms. Your skin prickles under his touch and you lock eyes, and again you fight the urge to tell him how sorry you are. 

He gives Amelia a quick once over, the newborn wailing in his arms, and he gently shushes her before handing her back to Claire. 

“Your wife and daughter are both perfectly healthy,” Adam says meekly as he approaches Dean and Sam. 

There’s a snide smile on Sam’s face as Dean takes in Adam’s words. At first you don’t understand what Sam is finding funny; recently he’d been just as obsessed with heirs as John was. John had mentioned more times than you can remember about the brothers’ needing heirs. Legitimate male heirs. Mr. Finch’s words from months echo in your ears as though it was just repeated in the quiet room. 

Tell me you want me to put a son in you. 

“I guess that means the Manor is mine,” Sam snickers, a poor attempt at a joke that Dean clearly doesn’t find funny, and the elder brother puts his fist through the wall behind him. You back away from the brothers as a remark from Dean sets Sam seething, and he tackles Dean to the ground. Grunting and the sounds of fists hitting flesh fill the room as the brothers tumble across the floor. 

With the Winchesters occupied, you seize the opportunity–albeit a foolish one–and grab Adam’s hand. You guide him towards the passageway that you and Dean entered from earlier in the night, stopping briefly at the bed to place a kiss on Claire’s forehead and promise you’ll get her out, too. You instruct her to call for Bobby or Ellen before disappearing into the passageway. With the door closed behind you, you make for your and Sam’s room hoping that, once you get there, you and Adam can escape.

You quickly realize that it may not have been the best idea to use the secret passage, though. From your and Sam’s room, it seemed to be a straight shot, but what you failed to notice before is that there are multiple connections, and you don’t know which one leads where.

“Which one, Y/N?” Adam pants behind you.

“I don’t– I’m not sure,” you sob, cradling your stomach. This isn’t a good idea, you could end up quite literally anywhere in the Manor. “Maybe we should go back, if they don’t know we’re gone–” 

“I think it’s too late for that, Kitten,” Adam grabs your hand. “And I– I can’t go back. Think, sweetheart.” 

Each hall looks nearly identical to the other. If you’d paid closer attention before, you wouldn’t now be stuck in a labyrinth behind the walls of Winchester Manor. You fall against the wall, cursing yourself for thinking that you could get yourself and Adam out of here.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” you mumble. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t’ve– If I’d told them the truth, Dean would’ve never–”

Adam sits down beside you, wrapping his arm around you gingerly and pulling you close to him. “It’s okay, Y/N.” 

You let out a deep breath. The longer you sit here, the greater the chance that Sam or Dean would realize that you’re trying to escape and figure out how you were doing it. If Claire was able to alert Bobby to the fighting brothers, there was a good chance they wouldn’t be able to get to her just yet. 

As your eyes adjust to the barely lit corridor, you see something on the adjacent wall– an SW and DW etched into it, and you decide that hall must be the one they used to sneak into the other’s room. You struggle to stand and Adam catches on quickly, rising himself before offering you a hand to help you up. You guide him towards the walkway, excitement filling you as you reach the door to Sam’s room, knowing that you and Adam are close to freedom.

“Y’know, every time I think we’ve broken you, you somehow manage to get just enough of your fight back to do something so fucking stupid, Y/N.” A voice makes you turn and you see a pistol pointing at you and Adam. Your heart stops. Sam’s sporting what looks to be the beginning of a black eye and has a slight limp as he takes a few steps towards the two of you. “I thought we were past all this, Princess.”

“It was me,” Adam steps in front of you, “I made her do it.”

“Is this true, Y/N?” Sam asks, eyeing you sternly while fixing the pistol solely on Adam. You’re torn, afraid that Sam might kill Adam if you go along with the lie, but even more afraid of what Sam will do to you both if you tell the truth. 

Adam turns his head slightly so that you can meet his eyes, and he gives an almost imperceptible nod, encouraging you to play along.

“Yes,” you mumble, and as soon as the word leaves your mouth, Sam closes the distance between him and Adam and hits him too many times to count with the butt of the pistol until the doctor’s body falls to the floor with a thunk. Angry red marks cover Adam’s face and a stream of blood flows from his mouth and nose. Sam uses his shirt to wipe down the pistol, staining it red, before stomping on Adam’s hand and then his stomach. He turns away, smirking as he disappears out of the room.

Adam’s face is swelling within seconds, and you drop to your knees, hoping and praying that Sam hasn’t killed him. You place your hand under his nose, breathing out a sigh of relief when you feel a faint breath against your fingers. 

“He attacked Y/N, Bobby, I had to stop him,” Sam’s voice carries from the hall. 

When you look up, you see Sam and Bobby entering the room from the main doorway. You can’t remember the last time you’d seen him or Ellen. 

“We need to get him back downstairs,” Sam urges, sounding rattled. 

“Are you sure that’s what happened here, Sam? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, it looks like you beat the tar out of him for no reason,” Bobby retorts.

“He’s been obsessed with Y/N for months. He’s the one who attacked her and Claire last year! If Dean hadn’t found them…” You’re not sure why Sam’s ability for lying comes as a shock to you. “Y/N, sweetheart, he can’t hurt you,” Sam reaches out for you, and helps you up, wrapping his arm possessively around your shoulders. 

“Why do you think I’ve been keeping her close? I couldn’t risk something else happening to her. He’s delusional, Bobby. You want to know what he told Dean?” Sam doesn’t wait for a response, plowing on in his tirade. “He said that he was our brother– that he deserved everything we had. That if we didn’t allow him to continue caring for Y/N and Claire, that he would make sure everyone in town knew about Joanna. I love Joanna like a sister; we couldn’t let her reputation be tarnished because dad wouldn’t allow Dean to marry her. You know no matter how much he discouraged it, they were sweethearts. Dean only sent her away because he thought it was what dad wanted, but dad included her in his will, Bobby. He knew that it was Dean’s child. And she and Henry should be here with us. Tell Ellen to bring her here.”

Sam is speaking so quickly and erratically that you can barely keep up. You haven’t seen Joanna since John’s funeral, and all you were told when you asked about her absence previously was that she was ill. You’d caught her and Dean in compromising positions more than once. Is that why she’s been gone? To have her baby in secret so that no one would know that she was unmarried and pregnant? To save herself and Ellen the embarrassment of having an illegitimate child? You watch as Bobby takes in everything Sam has said. 

“I might not be an educated man, Sam, but I ain’t stupid.” Bobby narrows his eyes. “I’ve known you your whole life–I practically raised you–and you think I don’t know when you’re lyin’? Your daddy paid Adam to watch over the girls and help ensure safe deliveries. And you’ve been keeping him locked up for months. You think Ellen and me can’t see the bruises, that we don’t hear the screams? You think that little of us, boy? You think that you can use us to keep covering up your and Dean’s messes?”

“I think,” –Sam steps forward, the facade of a man scared for the life of his wife and child dropped now, his voice lowering dangerously– “if you don’t do as you’re told…” He leans forward and you can no longer make out his words. Bobby’s face drains of color, his eyes wide, and his whole body goes stiff as Sam pulls away. “Have I made myself clear, Robert?” Bobby nods his head. You’d never seen Sam interact this way with Bobby, and whatever he said clearly has Bobby afraid for his life. 

“But you are right about one thing; Y/N and Claire, they’ll need someone to look after them while Dean and I take our next case. Take him to the servants quarters and tend to his injuries. Once he’s healed, he is only allowed to see Y/N under your or Ellen’s supervision. Is that understood? And I wasn’t just carrying on about Joanna. Dean and I will expect her and Henry moved in by the time we return. Now, get him out of here and send someone to clean up this mess.”

Bobby only nods, moving towards Adam and picking him up off the floor. A pained groan leaves Adam, and for a brief moment his eyelids flutter. Sam locks the door behind them as Bobby exits, and you’re not sure what to expect from him next. He stalks towards you, tearing off his shirt. You make a decision that you’re sure you’ll regret, and try to grab the pistol, but Sam beats you to it.

“I know it wasn’t Adam’s idea to escape,” he growls, grabbing your arm roughly. “But the fact that you let him take the fall for it–that was surprising. How do you keep managing to surprise me, Y/N?” Sam’s hand snakes up your back before grabbing your loose hair and yanking your head back. “And going for this?” he waves the pistol in front of your face, “was even more unexpected. Maybe I need to teach you another lesson,” he grunts with a pull of your hair, causing you to whimper.

“Please, Sam, I promise I’ll be good.” 

Sam moves you both towards the bed, and when the backs of your knees hit the mattress, you fall backward. He lifts your nightdress over your belly and exposes your breasts, the gun tracing your silhouette, and for a moment you’re afraid he might try to fuck you with it, but instead he sets it down after a moment, just out of your reach, and pins your hands above your head. He enters you roughly, giving you no time to adjust, and sets a fast and brutal pace. Your focus falls to the window as you wait for him to finish.

August

Claire is given a clean bill of health by Dorothy a few days later, and with that the brothers are gone. A weight is lifted off your shoulders, and you feel like you can finally breathe for the first time in months. Under Sam’s orders, Joanna is back in the Manor within a week and is assigned to be the children’s wetnurse and nanny. You, Claire and Joanna are all moved into the rooms closest to the nursery which now houses both Amelia and Henry.  A third bassinet sits empty waiting for your baby to fill it. 

Several new servants were brought in by Dean before they’d left nearly a month prior and according to him they were there to protect you, Claire, Joanna, and the children. You aren’t sure who Dean thinks you need protecting from, especially when he and Sam were the only people in the Manor who had ever hurt you, but you have to admit knowing that Dean is concerned about the well-being of all of you is heartening. 

Benny, the guard assigned to you, is nice enough, and for the most part gives you a wide berth. He’s larger than Dean but not as tall as Sam, and you can see why Dean had hired him. He accompanies you on your daily walks through the grounds and escorts you everywhere else in the Manor. Though you insist that it isn’t necessary, he maintains that he was given explicit instructions to stay by your side. 

For the weeks following you fall into a routine; morning walks with Benny, afternoons spent with Claire as she heals and the babies, and evenings exploring the Manor, you’d been there for so long, but hadn’t truly been out of the East Wing. Each week, Bobby receives a letter from Dean and the time frame of their absence is extended another week. Once one case is finished, the brothers would start working another one, and a part of you wonders if they ever truly plan to return back to Kansas. 

True to Sam’s word, the one and only time you’ve seen Adam since the brothers’ departure is under Bobby’s watchful eye. There was so much you wanted to say to him: apologize for getting him involved, not only once, but twice. If you hadn’t made a stupid and feeble attempt at an escape, and hadn’t let him take the blame, you’d both be better off. He hardly says anything to you, speaking mostly in two or three word sentences, before declaring you to be in good health. You attempt to follow Bobby and Adam when they exit, but to your dismay, Benny stops you, instead taking you in the opposite direction. 

There’s a knowing look on Ellen’s face when she enters your room the next day, ordering Benny to help himself to lunch, while you and she tend to “wifely” things. Once Benny has disappeared, she asks you to follow her, guiding you to a secret door that you’ve never noticed before, and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner that the Manor had to be filled with multiple passageways, linking more than just bedrooms. 

Ellen briefly tells you how to recognize which passage leads where and how you can use the secret corridors to go between the different wings of the house, pointing to one in particular that, according to her, might be of interest to you, and another hall that, if you were so inclined, would lead you outdoors. You don’t miss the implication of the information that she’s given you, but you know you can’t leave. Sam and Dean still need you. After your last night together–before they’d gone away–you were woken up to loving touches and sweet words from your husband that reminded you why you’d ever fallen for him in the first place. Beneath the brutality and the bouts of mania, there is a kind and sweet Sam that you cherish. If you could give Sam and Dean the son they both so desperately want, maybe things could change.

You know you need to cast Adam out of your thoughts. You can’t be a loyal wife to Sam and Dean if you also have feelings for Adam– you need closure. You could tell him how the passages work, and maybe he could escape. With the brothers extending their trip so much, he could be far away by the time they return. It was the least you could do for him. 

You consider for days when might would be best to try to find Adam and help him escape. You’re sure Ellen was giving you a clue as to where he was being kept, but you won’t dare ask her for more clarification. According to Dean’s most recent letter, the brothers aren’t expected to return for at least another week. The sooner you helped Adam leave, the more time he could have getting out of Kansas City, the state, or even the country if he so desired. You doubt the brothers thought him important enough to chase all over the world; he’d fulfilled his deal with John, there was no reason for him to stay to just deliver your baby. 

As the week comes to a close, you know you have to make a decision, and soon. After dinner is served that night, you and Claire spend the rest of the evening in the nursery, chatting and playing with the babies, before Ellen orders you both out so that she and Joanna can put them to bed, leaving one oil lamp burning as a nightlight for the children, as one of the new guards takes his place outside the nursery door.

Benny escorts you the short distance to your room, offering you a “goodnight, cher” as you close the door behind you. You’re confident that Benny won’t disturb you for the rest of the night, so you make the decision that tonight is the night to free Adam. You grab your own oil lamp from the beside, quickly filling it with the reserve kept in your room to ensure you had enough light to see Adam outside. 

You creep through the hidden door in your room and make your way down the hall Ellen had said would be “of interest”, hoping that you didn’t misunderstand her tone, and you wouldn’t be walking into something much worse than finding Adam. You’re not sure how long you follow the grimey and dim corridor, you hoped that you could maybe get an idea of where exactly you were in the Manor, but with multiple ones branching off you realize you could be anywhere.

Part 23

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