#he isn't mentioned as having a wife but he has a son so I figured he must have had one at SOME point

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day One: Team As Polycule (Valicer In The Dark AU)

Hello everyone, and welcome to Valicer Polyship Week 2024! :D Where, just like in 2023, you will get a daily Valicer fic based on one of the prompts from the official Polyship Week 2024 prompt list, courtesy of, naturally, @polyshipweek! Today is Day One, and the prompt I chose was "Team As Polycule" -- mostly because it immediately made me think of my Valicer In The Dark trio, and how they are a criminal crew as well as a polycule. Though, interestingly, the story that I came up with doesn't have actually have them doing a score together or anything like that. Instead, I ended up writing something about Alice being told that romancing her fellow crewmates is a bad idea by the leader of another gang in the area, and taking semi-violent offense to said leader poking her nose into her business. :P Not sure why my mind went off in that direction -- but as you will see tomorrow, apparently I really wanted to write "someone is a jerk to one of the trio, only to get theirs in the end" this year...

--

“You know, it’s not a good idea to mix pleasure and work.”

Alice blinked, then looked over to see one Nessa, leader of the Gray Cloaks, standing by the door to the bathroom, arms folded across her chest and mouth thin with displeasure. “It’s not going to end well,” she continued. “Sooner or later, the tower of cards always collapses.”

“Right.” Alice shook her hands off above the cracked sink basin before reaching for the towel. “First of all, did you really follow me in here to say that? And second of all – what? What are you talking about?”

“Yes, I did, because I had to go anyway – and I didn’t want to say this with your two, ah, friends overhearing,” Nessa replied, jerking her head toward the door and, implicitly, at Victor and Smiler back at their table. “And you know what I’m talking about. You’re playing a dangerous game, getting – involved with your partners in crime.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe I asked your opinion on my love life,” she said coolly, drying her hands.

“You’re getting it anyway,” Nessa said, untroubled by her tone. “Because I think too much of you to let you make a stupid mistake. Look, you’re easily the most sensible one in your little gang–”

“Me? I’m the one who talks to things that don’t exist on the regular,” Alice cut in, raising an eyebrow. At her feet, Cheshire covered a chuckle with his paw. “Just underlining my point there, Cat.”

“Sure, fine, but look at the two people you hang around with,” Nessa insisted. “Your Whisper’s a slip of a thing from money, and spends his time sticking his nose too far into his books and fiddling around with things he doesn’t understand. And your Leech…” Nessa rolled her eyes. “Well. They’re an Advocate. We all know what that lot is like.” She pointed at Alice. “But you? You know that this world’s a stupid, cruel, cold place, full of people that are as likely to stab you in the back as they are to shake your hand and give you a smile. And you’re more than ready to do the stabbing if you have to. You’re the one who sees things as they are.”

“Except when I don’t,” Alice said, watching as a tentacle poked its way through a hole in the ceiling. “Though I suppose I should take a compliment when it is offered. But what exactly is your point here, Nessa? I know you have one, even if it’s just hidden in your cloak.”

“My point is that you should be smart enough to know that getting personally involved with your crew is only going to lead to trouble,” Nessa said, shaking her head. “You can’t trust them that far, no matter what they might whisper in your ear in the middle of the Names. It’s common knowledge that Roric and Lyssa were lovers before she tore his belly open and dumped him in Ratblood Canal so she could get the Crows all to herself. Less common that Mylera of the Red Sashes used to be a spy in the Lampblack ranks, and seduced a few secrets out of Baz himself before running back to her own to destroy him. And don’t get me started on what happened between the Billhooks’ Tarvul and his wife before she ended up in Bellweather Crematorium and he in Ironhook Prison…” She huffed. “Point is, this city is rife with idiots who took a chance on getting close to their fellow scoundrels, and paid the price. And I see the way you look at your crew, and – I know you’re gonna get hurt.” She sighed, letting her arms drop. “Van Dort grew up rich, Alice – the minute he thinks he’s got enough Coin to get back into proper society, he’s going to ditch you without a second thought. And Alton – I bet you you’re never more than one too many frowns away from being stuck with a syringe and dragged back to their headquarters to get your head ‘corrected.’ Maybe you three work well enough together now, but – you can’t trust ‘em to treat you right.”

“I see.” Alice hung the towel back on its little hook. “Is that your entire piece?”

“Yeah,” Nessa nodded. “Just had to get it out there.”

“Excellent.” Alice took a moment to brush her hair back from her face –

Then, before Nessa could move an inch, she slammed the woman up against the wall, putting her knife against her throat. “Here’s mine then – keep your fucking nose out of my fucking business,” she hissed. “You think Victor wants to go back to a life where the weight of his parents’ expectations made him miserable? You think Smiler doesn’t care enough about me to know that getting me high on Joy Serum is the worst way to make me happy? You honestly think I’m stupid for daring to fall in love with the first two people who ever actually treated me like I was a person and not just a broken simulacrum of one? You don’t know anything about us, then. And I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself in future.”

Nessa stared at her, eyes wide and breathing hard – and, judging by the sudden smell, no longer with a need to go to the toilet. Alice released her and tucked her blade away again. “Good talk,” she said simply, then headed back out into the Ball & Socket.

As she’d expected, Victor and Smiler were still at their table, finishing off their food. “Was that Nessa that just followed you into the bathroom?” Smiler asked as she sat back down again. “Thought I recognized her braid.”

“It was,” Alice confirmed. “We just had a rather illuminating chat.”

“Oh?” Victor said, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “What about?”

Alice responded by grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a kiss. “About how she’s an arsehole who thinks you two are idiots and I’m an idiot for being in love with you,” she said after releasing him. “And how, if she doesn’t believe a crew can trust each other enough to be together more – intimately than normal, that’s not my problem.”

“Uh – ah – oh,” Victor said, blinking as his brain tried to catch up. “I – I see. I think.”

“I definitely see – that was rude of her,” Smiler said, defying their name by frowning. “I mean, sure, probably what we have together isn’t conventional for a crew, but – I like what we’ve got.”

“Me too,” Victor agreed, before leaning over to give Smiler a quick kiss, apparently worried they’d feel left out otherwise. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been with you two.”

Alice smiled at them, taking both their hands in hers. “I feel the same. And trust me, Nessa knows that very well now.” She glanced over to where the Gray Cloaks were huddled, looking a bit nervous about how their leader hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet. “So – no offering our services to help them gather more evidence about how they were framed right now?”

“Hell no,” Smiler said succinctly. “Maybe the Lost could use our help instead – I heard that they’ve got a vendetta against the owner of the Cordelia Furniture factory now...”

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

[sugurufic]

Nanami-Sensei (Nanami X F!Reader)

Summary: Your husband isn't that much of a grump, it seems. Especially when it comes to his favourite people; you and your "children".

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: reader is very motherly and is mentioned to be sunshine-y, other than that it's just fluff

masterlist

“Nanamin!” Yuji’s voice rang out in the empty classroom, bringing a smile to your face. Your husband let out an exhausted sigh, but the little smile on his face told you otherwise. Yuji was Haibara with pink hair, his sunny personality almost contagious. You figured your husband has a type of people he lets close - and it's most definitely the sunshine people, like yourself.

“What is it, Itadori-kun?” Kento asks in his deadpan.

“I saw these in the market and thought you might like them!” the pink haired boy said, holding up a small paper bag. “I bought some for you too, Nanami-san,”

“Thank you, Yuji,” You say, scooting over on the bench. “Why don’t you sit with us for a while?”

The boy’s eyes sparkle with delight as he accepts your offer, sitting beside you with his hands on the desk. Nanami’s brow is relaxed, and you know he enjoys spending time with Yuji as much as you do. “Nanami-san, won’t you open this?”

The bag smelled amazing, and the little box had some of your favourite doughnuts. You gave one to your husband, one to Yuji and took one for yourself. “How did you know I liked them?” you ask, a bright smile on your face.

Yuji swallows his bite quickly, then says, “Nanamin mentioned it yesterday when we were taking a break after exorcising a curse. We stopped by this shop to get doughnuts,” Yuji says, making Nanami look down quickly.

“Well, why don’t you come home with us?” You offer. “I’ll make us some spicy ramen. Then we can have the rest of the doughnuts for dessert.”

“We can pick some mochi up on our way home too,” Nanami says.

Yuji’s eyes sparkle, he is so full of life - your heart cries out for him - why did fate choose him to be Sukuna’s vessel? Why couldn’t he have been a normal child? You decide not to dwell on these questions, putting your best smile instead, hugging the young boy from his shoulders. He couldn’t yet spend time with his friends, and you wanted to keep his cheerful self for as long as he can. “Don’t think about it too much, Yuji.” You said. “We can watch a movie together.”

“Human Earthworm 4?” He says in a soft voice.

“Itadori-kun, it’s time for you to watch something else,” Nanami sighs.

“We can pick the movie later,” you intervene. “What do you say, Yuji? It will be a nice break for you to leave Jujutsu Tech for a bit,”

“Gojo-Sensei -” Yuji starts.

“He won’t say anything,” You assure him.

“Okay, Nanami-san!” He says, the bright smile returning to his face. “I’ll go see Gojo-Sensei once, then we can go!”

Yuji runs at an alarming speed, leaving you with a chuckle. “Isn’t he a lovely child?” you murmur to your husband.

“Indeed,” He says with a sigh, caressing your hand with his thumb. “He might be your son with how much energy and joy he has,”

“Well, he wouldn’t be just my son then.” You say with a coy smile. “And I think, that you might just have a type of favourite people,”

“People who are similar to you, my love,” He agrees. “But you will always be my favourite of them all.”

“I better be,” you giggle. “I am your wife, after all.”

It is adorable the way your husband has taken the child under his wing, acting as his mentor and protector - it makes you wonder how he would be with your own kids, loving and protecting them from the world. It makes you long for a normal life, where you could raise your kids without the permanent threat over them. The world you belong to is too dangerous for children.

“Nanamin! Nanami-san!” Yuji’s cheerful voice is back again, saving you from the dark thoughts forming in your head. He has a bright smile on his face and a backpack with him, ready to leave. “I’m ready!”

“Let’s go then,” You get up from your place, and wrap one hand around your husband’s hand and the other one hold’s Yuji’s arm. “A warm dinner is waiting for us back home,”

Nanami settles, with a sigh as Yuji begins to play Human Earthworm 4 on the television, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed between the two of you. You cannot help but think of Yuji as your child, even though you are too young to be his parents. He’s wonderful company to have around - helping you lift up your spirits with his contagious laugh and in general helping you in the kitchen as your husband took the laundry. Yuji is so animated, excitedly filling you in with the previous parts of the movie, doughnut box on his lap.

Hidden from Yuji’s eyes, Nanami has a rare, charming smile on his face as he watches the two suns of his life get close to each other. How you tousle the boy’s pink hair as if he’s your younger self, indulging in his gossip about everyone from school, about how his Gojo-Sensei has been teaching him, about how he misses Megumi and Nobora and wishes he can talk to them again.

Your eyes meet his behind Yuji, and you share a smile, a smile reserved for you two only. Yuji stills for a bit as the movie progresses and you take that time to set up the guest room for him - comforters, pillows, and toiletries. You know that inviting Sukuna’s vessel over to your home is dangerous, and you wonder why the King of Curses had to pick this sunshine in human-form of a child as his vessel.

“Nanami-san,” Yuji whispers, tiptoeing into the guest room. “Nanamin has fallen asleep,” 

“Oh?” You say with a grin. “I told him he should take a nap, but my husband just never listens. Come on, let’s get him a blanket.”

“Don’t you want to wake him up?” Yuji asks, confused. Wouldn’t it be better if he got into bed to sleep?

“He didn’t sleep last night,” You admit, fetching an extra blanket from the guest room’s closet. “He got up early to see you,”

Yuji’s face turns as pink as his hair, beginning to apologise, but you stop him. “My husband cares deeply for you, Yuji. Even though he doesn’t show it.” You say. “And I absolutely stand with him on the matter.”

“Nanami-san,” Yuji bows deeply in front of you, muttering words of gratitude and thanks and apologies for being a bother.

“Yuji, you’re just a child,” You say. “Don’t bother yourself with these worries. Now, let’s get a blanket for your Nanamin before he wakes up from the chill.”

You tuck your husband in on the sofa for the night, kissing his forehead before getting ready for bed. You’re in the kitchen getting some water when Yuji follows you too, sitting on the counter.

“Nanami-san, how did you and Nanamin meet?” He quietly asks, a rare moment of stillness from him.

“Oh, we met at Jujutsu Tech,” you say. “I made friends with Kento’s friend, and then we hung out together…” You are lost in thought of your youth, with Yu, Kento and your senpais. Suddenly, it’s Haibara Yu in front of you, telling you how he loves to eat, and would love a woman who loves to eat. You’re with Kento, comforting him after Haibara’s death, hugging him close as he cries on your shoulder. You’re with Shoko as she is told of Geto’s defection, and how he killed 112 villagers, including his parents. You’re the one Gojo reaches out to when Tsumiki gets her first period, panicking because he doesn’t know what to do as Megumi freaks out.

Then you’re back with Kento, as he tells you he is leaving the Jujutsu sorcery, because he cannot take it anymore. You’re right there with him, applying for a job in the corporate world because you fear if you stay a sorcerer too long, you might join Geto. No wonder they couldn’t catch him for years - you had helped him hide. No matter how much Kento believed in protecting the youth, protecting the defenceless, he couldn’t hate Geto, because he understood.

You are brought back to the present, at the sound of Yuji calling your name, and smile at him. “I was new there, and Haibara made friends with me,” You continue. “He wasn’t too different from you, so full of life. He was friends with Kento, and I started being friends with him too. Gojo would always pick on him for being an introvert, and I'd always tease him too. Then we joined corporate, and got even closer… and well, here we are.”

“Did Nanamin ask you out?” He asks, excitement returning to his eyes again.

“He did,” you say, recalling the big bouquet you had at your desk on a random Tuesday morning, signed by Kento. “He had to be thrown a lot of signs before he realised that I like him too.”

“He seems so closed off,” Yuji notes.

“He takes time to understand,” you admit. “All that toughness but he is a softie,” getting too lost in your thoughts, you decide it’s time to make some calming tea. You set the water to boil while Yuji brings out two cups while you mix up your tea and some herbs with a sugar cube.

“What do you love the most about him, Nanami-san?” Yuji asks.

You pour out the tea into the cups, taking a long sip before answering, “His heart,” you cannot help but smile at the thought of your husband. “He’s so kind, so patient. He’s just so… I love him,” you say with a delighted sigh. “He’s perfect,”

“I wish I can be like Nanamin,” Yuji says.

“You already are a great young man,” You are quick to reassure him. “Don’t change too much, Yuji.”

There’s a quiet knock on the door, and you quickly shift into high alert mode. Being a Jujutsu sorcerer came with his problems - namely enemies showing up unannounced. You reach for your cursed tool as you get to the door, looking at the door camera, relaxing and then panicking on seeing Ino Takuma. You quickly open the door with minimal noise and signal your finger to your mouth.

You give him a once over to see if he is injured, worry laced over your face. Once sure that he seems okay, you escort him back into the kitchen, locking the door after him. Ino smiles seeing a sleeping Nanami, his grin only widening on seeing Yuji. “Itadori,” he greets in a whisper.

“Yo! Ino-senpai,” Yuji 's eyes widened, his boy-ish face making your heart ache with love for him. He’s just a boy, thrust into the middle of everything. 

You set the kettle to the stove again, as Ino helps himself to some cookies from the shelf. Now with a hot cup of tea in each pair of hands, you tiptoe to the guest room, careful to not disturb your husband’s slumber. Heavens know that he deserves it.

“Takuma-chan, what brings you here tonight?” You ask, sitting on the only chair in the room while Ino and Yuji sit on the bed.

“I was fighting a curse, it seemed a bit stronger than grade 2.” He says. “It was close by. I didn’t have the strength to return home and stopped by.”

Yuji’s curious eyes fly between the two of you, wondering if he will ever feel free enough to show up uninvited. “Takuma was Kento’s first student,” you tell a confused Yuji. “He was there when my boyfriend turned to my fiancé.”

Your mind flies back to a happier time, about three years ago when Kento and you had planned a date to a fancy place but you two dragged Ino with you, he’d just successfully completed his solo first mission and you wanted to celebrate. But the restaurant didn’t know that - and hence you got a surprise pastry with a ring box on it, with your first ever child witnessing your pure joy.

“Nanami was not very delighted by me being there,” Ino notes.

“Tch, Takuma-chan I thought you knew him better,” You pout.

“He always acts like a grump,” Ino says, making you and Yuji chuckle. 

Your first child with your latest, you think, smiling at the two of them. Your husband does have a specific type for people who he lets get close to him - people like you - who are insufferable sunshine, pushing into his grumpy space with your bright smiles and twinkling eyes that he can't help but want to protect. 

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 19 🍒

"Hungry Heart"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 6,022

Summary: Going to Jackson for a wedding seems like just a friend doing a favor for a friend, but old acquaintances and new attitudes don't always make for a great combination.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place June - December 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of divorce, language, No Smut, mention of infidelity, post-divorce strife, Ellie is kind of a delinquent (will be discussed in next chapter), brief glimpse of lumberjack!Joel, forced proximity, mutual pining (mostly on Joel's side), Joel tries to be an authority figure and Ellie ain't having it

Author's Note: thank you to everyone who's stuck around to read this and been very patient with me! my birthday was last week so there was a lot going on, otherwise I would have had this out earlier. So.. we've got these two together again, but the reunion isn't exactly a happy one..

Series Masterlist

June 2023 San Francisco, CA

It's not until you're seated in a booth at the trendy new sushi bar downtown that you begin to doubt your agreement to meet Sarah while she's in town for a work conference. You'd said yes initially, then waffled about it in the coming weeks, and now you're drinking sake to fortify yourself. Your therapist told you it's a bad idea to mix alcohol with reacquaintances, but you're already refilling the ochoko when you look up for a moment and spy Sarah approaching you through the crowded restaurant.

You've never thought about what she might look like. A part of you imagined that you'd be sitting down to dinner with the same kid from twenty years ago. But Sarah has grown up, in her thirties, a successful attorney. And, from what you gathered by spying on Joel's Facebook account years ago, she's also a mother.

"Thank you for meeting me," she says, embracing you the way women always embrace each other, something you never got used to because of you lack of female friends. She smells like expensive perfume, the kind you spray on yourself at Sephora just for fun, and is dressed in a white maxi dress with blue floral print. She looks amazing, and you silently berate yourself for wearing black distressed jeans, a Rolling Stones tee and your lucky red Converse.

"You're all grown up," you remark, a hint of sadness in your tone.

"You look beautiful," she says in return. "You don't even look like twenty years have passed."

Little does she know you spent forty dollars on a concealer to hide your undereye circles, and were talked into spending another twenty on something called a lip oil that makes your lips sticky and tastes like cheap pineapple, which you wiped away on the restaurant napkin as soon as you sat down.

Settling down to small talk, you neglect to look at your menus, annoying the waitress who stops by to take your order three times and ultimately just comes by to refill your drinks.

Sarah lives out east in Boulder, Colorado, practicing law alongside her fiance Theo. They have a son together, ten year old Finn.

"Theo proposed when I got pregnant," Sarah says. "But I wanted us to build a foundation first, construct our little family. And when the time was right, I proposed to him."

She shows off pictures of Finn, sharing the funny and cute anecdotes that parents do, and when she asks about Ellie you do the same: Ellie in the hospital, just hours old, wearing a tiny knitted pink and blue hat as she glowered at the camera; Ellie at four, playing T-ball, one of just two girls on an all-boys team; Ellie at ten winning the school spelling bee.

Being an Army wife gave you the opportunity to see the world, experience things you otherwise wouldn't. Japan, Germany, Italy.. you were happy that Ellie got to experience them too.

But even that couldn't save your marriage to Justin.

There were infidelities on both sides, and when you found out about his, it was almost a relief to discover he was not Nice Justin, just a man who had affairs. In the midst of your own liaisons, you felt vindicated, though the fun wore off easier than it had in your youth.

Filing for divorce was only difficult considering Ellie. Justin didn't fight it, handing over full custody. It was the only part of the process that broke your heart. Now you were just repeating a history of broken families. Once the divorce was finalized it was like throwing up after being nauseous for so long, just good to get it out of your system.

("I kept my married name, just to piss off the new wife," you tell Sarah, who snickers in response. "That's understandable.")

Settling in San Francisco where you like the neighborhood and the schools, life seems easier.

"Ninth grade history," you answer when Sarah asks what you teach. "I introduce Romeo & Juliet to kids who are the same age as those characters."

And now, with the niceties out of the way, there's nothing left to talk about but the past.

You've been dreading it.

"I never apologized for what I did," she says.

You nod, inviting her to continue.

"You probably know this by now, but I was the one who called your mom."

Of course you knew it all along, but hearing it is a different thing.

She got her number from your phone when you weren't around. And, unable to get the picture of you and her dad out of her mind, she dialed it one day and explained to your mom what she saw.

"Why?" you ask.

She averts her eyes a brief moment. "Deep down I always knew there was something going on with you and my dad.. the day of my party when I walked in on you, it was a rude awakening. It's one thing to know something is going on, and another thing to witness it. And later, when you left, I realized I'd taken it too far."

Sarah goes quiet and so do you, despite the chatter in the busy restaurant.

You ask, "Did Joel ever find out it was you?"

She nods. "I told him later.. after he started seeing that awful girl you were friends with."

That part of your life, the bubble of jealousy and despair in which you made your home, seems so long ago. "Hailey," you remind her.

"Yeah.. she didn't last very long. Dad broke things off when he caught her stealing from him.. and when that happened I realized he was just better off with you. But.. by then it was too late."

By then you were already apart. The damage had been done.

"Was he angry at you for what you did?"

Sarah shrugs. "It was a silent kind of angry. You know how he is. We avoided each other for weeks until it became impossible. And by then.. you were gone."

You take a moment to reflect on your memories of Joel. "How is he?"

She smiles, as if she knew or even hoped you'd ask about him. "He's good. He's in Jackson now. Wyoming. Tommy's there with his new wife.."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "And, uh.. your stepmom?"

She looks blank for a moment. "You mean Tess? No, they divorced a few years ago. She was nice, it just didn't work out."

You don't know whether to feel sorrow or relief at this fact, but for once you decide to be petty and let the relief take over, hoping he went through a fraction of the pain you endured.

Sarah toys with her salmon roll. "I'm sorry," she says, nodding to herself as if giving herself strength to do it. She looks you in the eye and you catch a glimpse of the girl she used to be. "I'm sorry. For starting everything."

So many times you've imagined what it would be like if you hadn't been found out by anyone else. Would you still have stayed in Austin? Would you and Joel have had more time together?

"It's in the past, right?" You manage a smile, happy that this is out in the open. A part of you feels like a weight is lifted. Things may not have happened the way you wanted, but now you can reconcile the things you can't control anymore.

"This is probably the wrong time to say this," Sarah continues, "but I'd like to invite you and Ellie to my wedding this December, in Jackson. You won't have to worry about airfare or hotels. Theo and I will cover your ticket and.. well, everyone's staying at my dad's. He has a huge house in town, enough for close family. I'd really love it if you would come."

"Justin, you're really fucking me over, do you know that?" you try to speak as quietly as you can into the phone while laying out outfits for the Jackson trip. "Ellie's going to be brokenhearted. You told her you'd have her the entire two weeks."

On the other line Justin sighs, the new, younger Mrs. Williams can be heard in the background. "I promised Svetlana first. We really need this time together," he whispers as well, likely not trying to instigate another argument with his wife.

You have some choice words for Svetlana, but are interrupted when Ellie quietly walks into the room, well aware that the discussion is about her. "I'll call you back."

"Let me guess.." Ellie sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going with Dad for Christmas.."

There's no point in lying to her. She's a sharp kid. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, kiddo. He and your stepmother are taking an extended honeymoon in Malta," you tell her gently.

"You mean Slutlana?"

"What? Ellie, that's rude. Don't say that." You pause. "Don't say that to her face, at least."

She's quiet, and at times like this you regret that she's essentially living the life you lived at fourteen, always wondering when Dad would come back, if he even wanted to spend time with his own child.

"So.. I'm going with you?"

You nod. "Thank god your probation is over. It'd be nice if you paid Marlene a visit, or at least called her," I said, speaking of the parole officer assigned to Ellie after a particular incident. "We should send her some Tiff's Treats or something, she deserves a gift after putting up with your delinquent self." You playfully toss a tee shirt at her.

"Can I say bye to Riley?" she asks, hope evident in her eyes.

"No," you're adamant on this one thing, as lax as you were before the trespassing situation.

"Mom, my probation's over. I'm not gonna get in trouble just for talking to her."

"I don't care. I'm not going by the judge's rules, I'm going by mine." You pause. "You'll just have to come with me to Wyoming."

Sarah had gone to the trouble of sending a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, done in traditional cream and gold, with photos of the two of them as children, as teens, and one gorgeously done couples photo. Theo's cute, and Sarah seems happy with him.

"Boring," Ellie says in response to the wedding festivities. "Why would anyone want to get married?"

You decide not to give her a response. At her age you didn't understand the fuss about weddings either.

Forgoing Sarah's offer of paying for your flight, you rent a Chevrolet Suburban for the drive over.

"You do realize we'll be driving for over fourteen hours, right?" Ellie says, helping you put the suitcases and bags in the roomy luggage hold.

"Yep. I checked it out on Google Maps."

"What happens if you get tired?"

"We'll drive during the day and find a rest stop or a motel at night," you shrug.

"You know.. I could take over the drive sometimes," she offers.

"Okay, kiddo. Why not?"

She brightens. "Really?"

"Absolutely fucking not." With a smile you open the passenger door and she hops in, grumbling,

Only so much music can suffice a long ride, and somewhere outside of Reno, Ellie busts out a dog-eared copy of a book Justin had given her as a gag won the spelling bee.

"Oh no, Ellie, for god's sake, not the puns," you whine dramatically.

"Yes, the puns," she grins. "How else am I supposed to spend my time on this boring-ass road trip?"

"Brace yourself. We've only been on the road less than four hours."

She groans, slumping forward in her seat, revived shortly when she decides to recite every single pun in that damn book, and when you give her that Mom look, she simply grins and tells you, "That's what you get for turning down a plane ticket."

Three days later you arrive. Jackson Hole is picturesque, especially in winter, as it it was just made to be the snowy backdrop on a postcard or a highlight on Instagram.

You turn down the main thoroughfare of the town, a light dusting of snow already falling from the heavens as you peer out the window, frowning in concentration as you try to familiarize yourself with the location. Ellie's buzzing in your ear like a mosquito, singing along to something on the radio. You turn the volume down. "Quiet down, I can't see."

She nearly bursts at the seam with withheld laughter. "You want me to quiet down... because you can't see?" she teases.

"Ellie!" you groan. "We're already late for lunch with the family."

Promising yourself you'll settle in a hotel after what you hope will be a painless reunification with Sarah and the rest of the Millers, you find your destination and drive up a perfectly paved driveway. Joel's house, a craftsman-style facade done in red brick and accented with carved gable peaks, looks exactly like a house Joel would own.

Parking close enough on the curved driveway without blocking in any other cars, you take a moment to rest, stretching your neck and shoulders.

"Should've let me drive," Ellie says from her seat as you both start to disembark.

There's a smart remark on your lips but when you turn to her you're distracted by a figure at the side of the house.

Someone's chopping wood, splitting logs with precision, though not necessarily speed. He's wearing just a white tee shirt, jeans, boots. You let your eyes linger on his physique. Who is that? you wonder.

As if he can hear your thoughts or sense your presence, the figure turns and wipes the sweat off his brow.

You know him in an instant.

Joel.

Your heart feels like it's going into arrhythmia.

"Come on, Ellie," you hurry her up the walk and to the front steps.

"The bags--"

"Fuck the bags." You press the doorbell nervously, willing Sarah or anyone to open quickly.

"You made it!" Sarah practically mauls you as she greets you, giving both you and Ellie a hug.

You're swept inside where it's nice and cozy, the air scented with pine and gingerbread. Christmas garlands are strung over every doorway, along the staircase railing, the windows, and the fireplace.

"Was my dad out there? I told him he needs to start getting ready. I don't want him coming to the luncheon all sweaty," Sarah says.

"What? No. I didn't see anything.. anyone," you stutter.

"I'm happy you're here, because we're actually going to have lunch at the Tipsy Bison instead. It's Tommy's bar, you probably passed it on the way up here."

"Oh, uh.." you're distracted by Ellie precariously sloshing a winter themed snow globe, the thought of Joel is still spinning around in your sleep-deprived brain, and Sarah is still talking to you like you don't look completely zoned out and anxious.

To make things worse, Joel comes in, carrying most of yours and Ellie's luggage. His white tee sticks to his sweaty skin, his face pink with exertion and dewy with sweat, his hair dark with more gray now than ever, and on his beard too. His eyes, those dark depths you've lost yourself in so many times, peer into yours, and for a moment you forget to breathe.

"You left the trunk open," he murmurs, as if it's a quiet admonition, a secret he doesn't want to tell.

"Oh.. thank you. You didn't have to do that." Your nervous glance at him gives your blushing away because you see his face redden as well.

"Dad, can you believe she has a kid now?" Sarah says excitedly.

There's a jolt of fear when you realize father and daughter are going to be in the same room, and neither of them knows it.

"Uh, Ellie, this is Joel Miller. He's, uh, Sarah's dad, and I used to babysit Sarah.. a long time ago.." Being put on the spot, you falter your words.

"Put 'er there, Joel," Ellie says, holding out her hand for him to shake, which Joel does, the start of a tiny smirk on his lips.

"We all lived in Austin together, with your Aunt Sofia. I mean, we didn't live together but we were neighbors," you babble, feeling even more blush creep up your neck. "Way before you were born, kiddo."

Meanwhile Sarah's eyes dart from Ellie to Joel to you, and back again, slower each time, as if she's piecing the puzzle together. Her eyes linger on Ellie, her expression unreadable before settling on you. You quickly glance away.

"Let me take that from you," you motion to the luggage Joel's carrying.

"Nah, I got it. I'll show ya to y'all's rooms." He hefts the suitcases and bags like they're nothing and heads upstairs. You have no choice but to follow him, sneaking a little glance at how his great his ass looks in his jeans.

"Nice place you got here, Joel," Ellie remarks, eyes skyward, surveying the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "Do you always address your elders by their given names?"

"Ellie," you whisper harshly. "Mind your manners."

"Damn, sorry," she mutters back.

"Sorry, Joel. She's--"

"Hey, why do you get to call him Joel?"

"Because I'm an adult," you say under your breath.

"He's older than you. Like, a lot. Like, Grandpa Bob's age."

"Stop it," you say through clenched teeth as Joel clears his throat.

"I can put y'all next door to each other--"

"I call this one!" Ellie claims the first door on the left, grabbing her bags and leaving Joel to lead you a little further down the hall.

"'M afraid this one is right across the hall from mine," he mumbles, leading you inside the comfortably decorated bedroom to set your things down.

"Thank you," you murmur, heart thrumming in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone with him in fifteen years. "You.. have a really beautiful home here, Joel."

He looks around, eyes darting anywhere but yours. "Thank you, that means a lot. Built it myself-- well, with Tommy's help."

"Really?" It's hard to pretend you're not impressed. "Must've been a lot of hard work."

"Yeah, it was. But she's sturdy." Joel gives a sturdy pat to the wall, and you can't help looking at his hand, the way his thick fingers splay out against the dark green wallpaper. Those are fingers that used to find their way inside you, curving just so in order for you to come quickly while his lips and tongue worked in tandem to--

Ellie's voice comes from the other room. "Wow! You guys have cable? Do you have HBO?"

"No Euphoria!" you shout back, scoffing when she quiets again.

There are too many questions on the tip of your tongue, too many things you want to say but not when you're so nervous that your hands are shaking. Staying quiet is easier. More awkward, but easier.

The room fills with unspoken words and missed chances as the two of you shift uneasily, not knowing where to start, not knowing if you should start.

"Didn't know ya had a daughter," he grumbles. "Not 'til Sarah told me."

"Yeah. Ellie's.. precocious."

A ghost of a smile graces Joel's lips as he looks at you and for a moment in time you feel eighteen again.

"How old is she?" he asks.

"She turned fourteen this past spring." God, please don't let him do the math, please don't let him do the math.

Instead he gives a low whistle, wears a teasing smile. "You look good for bein' the mom of a teenager. You still look beauti-- still look the same," he finishes.

You're thirty nine now and in possession of all the complexities that come with your age. There's more gray in your hair than you care to admit (which Ellie tells you not to dye because it "looks cool"), and there are a few more pounds on your person and a few more lines on your face than you're happy with, but his compliment warms you nonetheless.

"You look.. good.. too." Jesus, how did this man age like fine wine? If anything, the past two decades only served to make him hotter. It's unfair.

He takes a step forward, his face determined, lips pursed like he's still calculating his decision. "I.. I wanted to say--"

This time Sarah comes up, dressed for the cold, putting on her gray gloves. "Dad, get in the shower already," she scolds him. "I'm taking her and Ellie to the Tipsy Bison. We'll see you there."

Joel's eyes set on you. "I don't mind takin' them."

You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea how to respond. "Honestly, I'll drive me and my daughter. And we can get a room in town."

"No way, Jose." Sarah loops your arm through hers. "You're staying with us and that's final. So, will you let me drive you, or do you want to wait for my dad?"

Waiting for Joel.. it seems you've spent the majority of your youth waiting for him.

"Can we go with Sarah?" Ellie asks, solving the problem for you.

In truth you would have liked a moment to rest, to sleep, to puzzle over the strangeness of the day so far. You're almost a thousand miles from the home you've made after your divorce, under the same roof as the man who changed your life in ways good and bad, harboring a secret from him and his family. Not to mention Ellie's ignorance of her origins.

Sarah herds you and Ellie into the Tipsy Bison, a spacious bar establishment on Main Street, part of the scenery you must have driven by without noticing upon driving into town. Inside is the typical decor you'd expect: neon lights advertising every brand of beer and alcohol you can imagine, taxidermy mounts of bears, bucks, and elk. Pool tables are at the far left, dartboards to the right, a couple of foosball tables as well. There's a stage beyond the pool tables, ready for a band or DJ, a makeshift dance floor in front of it, and colored lights remain still overhead, their brightness dulled and stilled by the daytime.

There's a homey, cozy feeling as you glance around. The bar spreads along the far side beyond a range of tables and booths, boasting a wide variety of booze. Working behind the bar is a face you haven't seen in awhile: Tommy.

He comes out to greet you, his smile and bright and joyful as you've always known him to be, and part of you feels guilty that the last time you were together you'd been drunk, making out next to his truck, after meeting in a bar just like this one.

"Hey you!" He envelops you in a tight hug, and you start to feel better. Bygones are certainly bygones in his case.

"Tommy, it's good to see you again," you smile, pulling away to get a good look at him. "You've hardly aged. What's with you Millers, are you all vampires or something?" You cast a playful look at Sarah, who's bringing her fiance and her son to meet you.

Tommy shrugs, a playful grin on his lips. "You're more than welcome to join our Legion of the Undead," he jokes.

You're introduced to Theo, Sarah's husband-to-be, who's on the quiet side, a contradiction to Sarah who's chattering away about him, and Finn, who's an exact replica of his dad, eyeing you and Ellie with a shy smile.

Ellie manages to find a friend in him as you and the others get to catching up. You're introduced to Maria, Tommy's wife, the roundness of her baby bump just barely showing. She oversees the caterers as they start setting up for lunch. Tommy and Sarah talk about you like you're a part of the family instead of someone who knew them for a summer and changed things forever, even in some small way.

"Sarah tells me this is your place now," you speak to Tommy, who's behind the bar and pouring you a drink.

"Sure is," he says, sliding the drink across the bar to you. "Don't know anyone who orders a gin and tonic in the middle of winter," he says, teasing you.

"I'm eccentric," you smirk, taking a sip of the crisp, slightly bitter drink.

"Should be you behind this bar, Cherry," he winks.

"Oh god, no one's called me that in forever," you groan, doing a quick check on Ellie to find her attempting to play pool with Finn.

"How's business?" you ask him.

"Good, good," he nods. "Just glad to be settin' down some roots, buildin' somethin' for when the baby comes."

"Congratulations," you smile. "You and Maria seem like a good fit."

"Well.. y'know.. can't fuck around forever," he chuckles, then he spots someone at the entrance.

"Hey, brother!" Tommy raises his hand in greeting and you stay still, wishing you could sink down into the ground or better yet, become invisible completely.

The old-fashioned jukebox ends a Fleetwood Mac song and drifts into "Hungry Heart" by Bruce Springsteen starts, the catchy, melancholic combo of piano, drums, bass, guitar and saxophone wafting throughout the bar. You keep your eyes on your drink, willing for all of this to be just a dream, some intrusive thought you've put incredible detail into, prolonging your grief over lost love.

But there he is, a barstool between you, giving you your space while ready to jump up at a moment's notice if you want him closer. Your casual glance gives you away when you stare too long at him, clad in a green flannel shirt, his gray tee peeking beneath. You could swear it's the same flannel shirt you wore at the cabin, in the days when you were younger and carefree, before bad things happened to separate you.

Joel catches your look, lips twitching into a smile as his hands wrap around a glass of whiskey.

"So, what took you away from Boston?" you ask, putting your lips to your drink so you're not tempted to ask too much. It's an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Lot of things," he mutters, staring into the amber liquid. "But mostly I followed Tommy out here."

"I was in Boston with him for awhile." Tommy shakes his head. "Hated it. I'll never set foot on the East Coast again if I can help it. I came out here, met Maria, started a family."

"And Sarah was already out here, buildin' a life. Just made sense for us all to be together again."

You look at both of them, glad the conversation isn't just between you and Joel. "The house is amazing. Joel told me you both built it."

The look of pride on their faces is endearing.

"We did, and mine too, across the street from his," Tommy adds.

"What happened to the contracting business?"

"We expanded it," Joel answers, a twinkle in his eye though his expression remains serious. "Made a nice chunk of change. Got branches in Oklahoma, Arkansas, even as far as Georgia."

That would explain the six-bedroom house, the fancy week-long wedding rituals that Sarah has joyfully swept you up in, and the catered lunches. The Millers have become quite financially well-off.

You listen to the brothers talk about some of the adventures they've been on, the good and the bad that has passed and ultimately brought them here, with you, once again.

The lunch spread is impressive: Texas style barbecue of ribs, brisket, and chicken; side dishes of beans, potato salad, grilled corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, and mouthwatering desserts of pumpkin and pecan pies, cheesecake, banana pudding, and peach cobbler.

You haven't realized how hungry you are until you realize you have to remember to force yourself to eat slower, accidentally spilling a little barbecue sauce on your shirt. Embarrassed, you wipe it away, glancing at Ellie and finding her doing the same thing, just shoveling forkfuls of food in her mouth.

"Easy there," Joel's voice booms from across the table. "No one's gonna take it from ya," he playfully chides.

You were so absorbed in your lunch that you didn't realize he was right across from you. "Ellie," you scold her quietly. "Slow down."

"This is slow for me," she answers.

"Mind your mama," Joel says gruffly, his tone is authoritative.

She looks up at him, in annoyance and surprise. "You don't tell me what to do."

"And you don't talk back like that." Joel's voice gets a little more strict.

"Joel, stop," you intercede, your voice just as terse. The chatter around the table has dimmed but it's obvious everyone has their focus on you three.

"The kid obviously needs some fuckin' manners."

You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His eyes lock with yours, dark and cold. "I see where she gets it from. I guess that's what happens when a dad ain't around to teach some respect."

"Fuck this," Ellie mutters, pushing back from the table and throwing down her napkin, quick to get up and leave.

Your face is flaming red with both anger and embarrassment as your gaze burns through Joel's. "There's something wrong with you. Seriously," you mutter before getting up to go after her.

Joel goes after you. Sarah goes after Joel.

"Ellie!" you call out, watching her walk off in the direction of the house.

"I'll get her," Sarah volunteers, gently touching your arm. And then you hear her speak to Joel under her breath, something like "You're ruining it," before she hurries up to catch Ellie.

It's you and Joel now.

"Babygirl," he starts, his voice low.

"Babygirl?? Fuck you!"

Joel goes pale, obviously not expecting that. "I deserve that. I deserve for you to hate me."

"Hate you? No, you deserve worse than for me to hate you! How dare you yell at Ellie like that? I never once saw you treat Sarah that way."

"She never acted like that," he huffs.

"Do us both a favor and just stay away from us for the rest of the week. I'll see about getting a motel tonight, just.. fucking leave us alone."

He mutters Christ, and reaches for you, pulls you to the side of the building. "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Yeah? Tell her that." You could easily leave. He's not restraining you, but you stay. "Is that all you have to apologize for?"

He looks guilty. "No, of course not. I've been trying to talk to you since you got here--"

"Fifteen goddamn years and I don't hear anything from you? And now you.. what, you expect me to fall into your arms like I'm a stupid fucking teenager again? Go to hell! Nothing is that simple anymore!"

You hadn't meant for all your rage to come spilling out, it was just supposed to be about Ellie, but now that you're face to face with him, you can't help wanting to rage at him. Joel backs away from you, his eyes on the ground, hands on his hips, jaw set.

"Longer than that, actually," you softly correct yourself. "San Antonio.. you fucking left me. On my birthday."

He steps forward, not ready to back down. "I went to jail for you. On my birthday."

"I didn't ask you to do that! I didn't ask for anything but for you to love me! And you stopped!"

"No, I didn't," he whispers, arms hanging at his side even though they itch to reach out for you, hold you, make it better again.

"Don't say that," you warn him, backing away. "Don't insult my intelligence, Joel. You don't know what I went through after you left me. My heart was broken for years!"

"You were just a kid. I.. I thought I was doin' right by lettin' you go."

"I wasn't better because of you breaking up with me. I got worse! So much worse!" You don't dwell a lot on the past, specifically the college years that are now mostly a blur of hookups and hangovers, but now it all comes rushing back. Joel was your safety net and he took all that away from you once you started to freefall.

"Bullshit. You got married," he says bitterly.

"I did that so I could feel normal again. I tried to save myself. But it didn't matter in the end because he didn't love me either. Though I have to say, my divorce hurt a hell of a lot less than your abandonment."

Joel starts to look his age. The lines in his face deepen with worry and regret as he absorbs your words, mulling over everything that has happened. "I'm sorry--"

"Besides, you got married too! So please don't play like you're such a saint. You hardly look the part." Your anger has warmed you, given some spice to your blood so that you don't even feel the cold anymore. You roll your sleeves to your elbows, fists curled, adrenaline pumping as you finally tell him everything that's been locked away inside your heart.

"I don't accept your apology," you grunt, adding, "And don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again!" You storm off, wishing you'd brought your jacket but it would mean having to walk past Joel, back into the restaurant and out again, and you're already walking away. It seems one of you is always walking away from the other.

It's snowing again when you find Sarah and Ellie, further down in front of a storefront, steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Both are smiling, chatting, seemingly getting along. You know you should reprimand Ellie, tell her to apologize to Joel, but how can you be a hypocrite that way when you won't even talk to him yourself? All you can think about is leaving, going straight to the motel and picking up your things at Joel's later.

Sarah talks you into staying, warning of bad weather coming in soon. She apologizes for Joel, and you apologize for airing your grievances so publicly.

"Just don't do it at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow," she smirks. "Then I'll have to leave your ass out in the snow."

That evening you and Ellie keep to your rooms. You use your phone for distraction when your attention span keeps drifting from your novel, but even technology isn't the answer. There's only so much Merge Mansion you can play, and not even True Detective can hold your attention for long. You decide to rewatch Narcos (for the plot, you tell yourself) when Ellie knocks on your door.

"What's up, kiddo?" You press pause and scoot over on the bed, offering her to get comfy next to you.

"Have you seen the news?"

You're on Do Not Disturb and haven't gotten any of your usual notifications.

"There's a blizzard coming tonight. Sarah says sometimes the main roads get snowed in and we won't be able to get out."

Oh Sarah Miller, the purveyor of bad news. "She told me something like that. How long do they expect conditions to last?" You're already checking your phone.

"Could be days, maybe even up to a week," Ellie shrugs.

"Great," you mutter. "So we're stuck here even after the wedding?" It's the day after tomorrow.

"Please don't make us go to the motel. Sarah's really cool and really nice. And I even like Theo and Finn.. even Joel isn't so bad so long as he stops talking to me like a dad."

That night, as the blizzard blows in, turning everything outside completely white, Joel tosses in his sleep in his room across the hall from yours. It's not the howling winds keeping him awake; he's lived here long enough to get used to such natural disasters.

There's something you said to him, earlier outside the bar. It was an explosive moment, with words exchanged like bullets. But in the midst of it all he took away that one sentence: don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again.

Our daughter?

dividers by @saradika 👑

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro x reader

Summary: A man seeks to follow his dreams, following only the path his swords carve for him and wherever his crew goes. Little does he know that the missing piece in his life, his soulmate whom he doesn't admit that he tries to seek would end up in a love-hate relationship

_________________________________________

Chapter Five

You sat in your room, not moving, hair uncared for, body aching. It has been a while since your wedding, but it felt fresh in your heart like it was yesterday. Mother, father, Kyro, Amav. Ophelia and Rhen were yet to be found and you hoped that they left the island. You doubted they'd be left alive if they were. Lyra must have taken them seeing as she wasn't around either thankfully. All your family's loyal servants had been executed days after the wedding, the remaining were pledged to Cassius and his family.

You scratched your wrist, the mark stinging. Not too long ago pain unimaginable to anyone in the kingdom had seered through it, leaving you screaming in absolute pain. It was so bad that you were taken to the doctor.

Everyday you were forced to play the role of the dutiful wife to your murderous husband. Disregarding the vengeful hate inside, you stood up, did the necessary tasks for hygiene and wore a black dress to honour your family's deaths.

"Ah, my darling wife!" Cassius said as he sat on the throne, dismissing advisors. Your eyes scanned every one of them as they passed you, bowing their heads to not look you in the eye. Ser Randall, Lord Alexander, Maester Caius and Lady Genevieve. All of them.

Traitors.

You could guess that the kingdom didn't know of his heinous actions. Or maybe they did know, the executioners block has been used more times lately than in the past twenty years so you figured people wanted to keep their lives and not question the sudden trajedy.

"Your grace," You curtsied, wiping off the look of disgust you had given to the royal advisors.

"Lovely day isn't it? The second month that marks our marriage." He stood up, taking your hand and walking you outside the throne room into the open hallways of the castle. There was a brilliant view of the citadel from up there. The both of you leaned against the railing.

He looked at you, sparkling eyes like a lovesick puppy. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you look?"

"You always tell me that." You internally rolled your eyes, picking at you dress.

"Then I'll say it even more. You look beautiful."

The both of you looked at the view in front from the high balcony you had traveled to. Guards stood on both of your sides a distance away. You looked down, over the bannister. It would be an alarming drop, leaving no room for life. Your eyes went to Cassius who was enjoying the view , his arms crossed and a smile on his face.

Just on push, a strong one. Enough to end this nightmare. To save yourself from any more harm that would come to you.

"I bet our children will love this kingdom. Or maybe the other ones my family has ruled over. Did you know that our families have history?"

"No ,your grace." At the mention of children you nearly choked on your own disgust. It was a wonder how he hadn't bedded you already and you were grateful for that. Apparently their customs were different. They could be as cruel as they wanted to their subjects and enemies but never went to the level of sexual assault.

"Your grandfather had taken over our kingdom fify years ago. His men took all our women as wives. Our men were brutally murdered. The children were forced to become strangers in their own country, serving under his rule. Now here we are. I'm not as cruel as your grandfather. I've spoken with my advisors. I have been merciful."

"You call what you did merciful?" The anger within had flared up, forgetful of how calm you were supposed to act.

" It would have been worse, darling. I would have had every man and son slaughtered and give the women and girls over to cruel men. Maybe sell you to slavery or force you to work in my home country's pleasure houses."

Your eyes widened at the extent he was willing to go. Now the drop seemed more of an option for a willing princess. No, a willing queen. But you wanted to live long enough to kill the man who held your hand with deceptive love.

"You absolute psy–

–cho.

"Your majesty!" A soldier ran in, "There's protests taking place all over the citadel. Near the monuments." Cassius rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh.

"Just kill them and get over with it."

The soldier shook on the spot at Cassius' words."But mi'lord, they're you're people ."

Cassius raised an eyebrow,"And?"

Your eyes widened. "Those are lives, Cassius. people with families. Have mercy, please."

"They should have thought of their families before deciding to go against my rule." He grabbed a drink from the jugs placed near where the two of you stood." Infact, if you care so much you should go through the same thing they have to."

"What?" You furrowed your eyes in confusion, a hint of fear in your tone. He turned to you, the spark in his eyes dulled a tiny bit. There was a hint of something crazy in them there.

"Round up the protesters and have them whipped. Thirty lashes, or until they beg for death. I don't care., make it entertaining"

The soldier nodded , getting ready to walk away before being stopped by Cassius' hand. "After you're done with them, give the queen ten lashes. Since she loves her people so much."

Before you could respond, the guards who stood beside the both of you grabbed you roughly by the arms,dragging you somewhere you didn't know.

"NO! PLEASE, CASSIUS!"

Cassius waved at you as you were dragged away, taking a sip of his drink once more before throwing it over the balcony.

"I have a little surprise for you, my love!" He yelled in the distance

As you were lead down the halls towards the large doors of the place you once called home your ears heard the sound of screaming a bit far off. The castle wasn't too far from the markets and it was clear that they were either beimg caught like cattle there.

Another soldier appeared, placing a sack over your head.

_________________________________________

The Thousand Sunny sailed toward the next island on the logpose, a bright smile on Nami's face. "Looks like we're in luck, the kingdom of Rhysa. Known for its beautiful views, spas and lovely people."

"They're also known for the benevolent royal family that they have. Independent from pirate territories since they have a strong military." Robin added as she got ready to explore the island. A buzz of energy floated around the Strawhats. After having fought with the government, a few warlords and a few marine ships they needed a place to rest and recuperate.

"We could get alot of food too." Luffy said, mouth watering at the thought. His trademark hat atop his head.

Franky put on his sunglasses,"Some more cola for the ship too."

"All in all, we need to restock on a lot of things." Sanji got out of the kitchen, looking around for someone. His eyes went over his crewmates on deck; Robin, Nami, Luffy, Franky, Brook, Chopper and Ussop.

"Where's Mosshead?"

Everyone went quiet for a moment, looking to the side to find Zoro sitting cross-legged on the railing, looking at the distant island they were about to drop anchor at.

There was a small silence, filled with understanding at what might have their swordsman in such a mood.

"STOP BROODING, YOU IDIOT!" Sanji aimed to kick Zoro to get his attention. Zoro blocked Sanji's kick with one of his swords , not moving an inch from his spot.

"Something doesn't feel right."

_________________________________________

@urbisexualfriend

@bi-narystars

@mythicallystupid

@mars-mizuko

@chillerkiller

[syndrossi]

In your Reverberate AU, how long before Rhaegar figures out he's been reborn as a baby? Does he assume he died and was reincarnated into the future before realizing his father, Daemon, is in fact *the* DAEMON TARGARYEN and he's been reborn in the past instead? Is he amazed at first that he was LUCKY enough to be reborn as a twin after his last life of sad, lonely only-childness? When does he realize Jon likely remembers a past life too? And most importantly, when does he realize he has his entire family wrapped around his pinky finger????

Fun questions! Especially because they're very different between the twins.

I think both of them figure out the "reborn" part fairly quickly, because everyone is huge and blurry and they're being swaddled and fed warm milk constantly.

As for the future versus past, unlike Jon, Rhaegar catches on very fast, once his hearing is developed enough to pick up actual words. Anyone can be named Daemon, but a Daemon married to a Rhea Royce with a dragon named Caraxes is difficult to mistake for anything else! His greatest point of confusion is that Daemon never had twin sons? Much less an amicable relationship with Rhea?

Whereas Jon's depth of knowledge of the Dance is more surface level. He knows Daemon, of course, but wouldn't remember his first childless marriage, and I don't think Jon memorized all the dragon names. He was more fascinated by the Aemon the Dragonknight era. This makes things interesting, because if he has no reason to believe he's been reborn into the past, then Rhaegar is just a Targaryen name that his sibling could have been given. He probably assumes Dany passed it on through her eventual line. So he would have no idea that Rhaegar was actually that Rhaegar until they can have a conversation about it.

Which will be a tragicomedy because you'll have them simultaneously going "isn't it wild that we were reborn into the past/future!" only to stop short and be like WHAT at one another.

Both Jon and Rhaegar are very sharp individuals, especially when it comes to reading people, so I think they realize that their twin is also too "gifted" to be a normal baby/toddler. It also must make some sense that if they were reborn, their twin was as well. (Jon has no idea who his sibling might actually be, and again, I don't think it crosses his mind that their names were kept the same intentionally because it doesn't make any sense! It only happened because Rhaegar picked his own name and Daemon remembers that.)

Rhaegar is certainly over the moon about the circumstances, once he gets over the shock of it. His father is the Daemon Targaryen, and he doesn't hate his wife at all, and in fact loves them with all of his heart! Their parents don't seem to love one another, but they get along amicably and seem to operate as partners/allies. He has a brother who is similarly weirded out by everything but who is always there, he is never alone and doesn't feel the same need from before to be alone. Also, there are DRAGONS. They get to fly DRAGONS. Did he mention DRAGONS? And they have cousins! And there are even more dragons! And magic! Look at that pretty candle someone gifted them for their name day--

[applbottmjeens]

PREDECESSOR AND PROGENY

tags: mentions of domestic violence, implied abuse, divorced Phillip Graves bc that is a man who has 100% been married before, age gap mention, power dynamic mention, Jack Graves mention, I DO NOT WRITE GRAVES AS A GOOD MAN.

summary: The woman once known as Irene Graves tries to save a girl from a similar fate.

She heard about her only in passing and in fits of frustration. He never called her by name. Just his “bitch of an ex wife” or “the ex”, dehumanizing her and demonizing the mother of his only son.

She's met his son. The closeness in age was enough to shake them. His name was Jack, and he was a splitting image of his dad- with a kindness in his eyes that was missing from it's father.

She recalls meeting Jack being looked upon with a mix of concern, pity, and horror behind a veneer of southern politeness Annie couldn't penetrate.

It isn't until she meets Irene, really meets her, that Annie understands Jack- he has Phillip's face. He has his mind. But that heart, that humanity…

Its all Irene Williams.

Strawberry blonde with red lips and a pair of baby blues that saw right through her. This woman was elegant. Beautiful. Nothing like the vindictive witch Phillip made her to be.

She sits across from her at this Cafe, assuring Anna that “he doesn't know this place. And if he did, he wouldn't think of showing up.” To reassure her. She knows Anna is at an edge. Scared.

Across from her, Irene assesses the fly caught in Phillip's web. She's young. And yet she already looks like he's put her through the fucking wringer. God this man had a talent. She thinks sarcastically, the hunched over young woman sheepishly drinking her tea.

Phillip always did like his share of pretty, tan brunettes. He'd cheated on her with one when they were still in highschool- but she'd forgiven him easily back then- After all, she wasn't being too loyal either.

“...I'm glad you finally decided to answer my emails, Miss Pham.” Irene speaks. “Can I call you Anna?” The girl nods.

Anna finally meets her eyes. Such sad, brown little eyes. “...He always told me to-”

“Ignore them.” They say at the same time.

“Ignore them?- That what I was saying was a bunch of horseshit? Yeah. I figured.” Irene shakes her head. Phillip Graves was still so predictable to her.

She laughs. Anna’s guard is still up. But of course. Irene was always the bad guy in Phillip’s stories.

“How long have you and Phillip been…together?” Irene asks.

Annie pauses. “Officially?...About…Two years.”

“Marriage?” Irene interrogates the girl. She knows she's coming off a bit strong- but from what she's heard of that girl? She should be biting back.

“He…Implies it.” Anna says meekly, almost shy, embarrassed.

“Any babies in the picture?”

“...I have a son.”

“His?” Irene raises a brow, sighing when the younger woman shakes her head no.

“I'm guessing Phillip's sinking his teeth into that one.” Her green eyes glance down at her cup. “I'm not proud to say I deprived that man of fatherhood. I wouldn't let him see Jack till he was around fifteen. Didn't want him ruining my boy.” Irene shifts in her chair. “I suppose Phillip is doing some…compensating on his part for yours.”

She thinks about when Jack told her about his encounter with Phillip's new squeeze when he came to visit once last year- the girl was mortified upon meeting him, but so sweet and bubbly nonetheless.

“I don't think she knew I existed ‘til we met that day.” Jack admitted to his mother over the phone. He recalled seeing his father a bit anxious as Anna told him, “Phillip never mentioned a son to me.” With a strained smile.

She'd never have dated him if she knew he had a kid her age for sure.

Irene was admittedly, a bit miffed realizing Phillip had roped someone else into his bullshit- learning she's young. She's pretty. Not surprised she's military either.

And to meet her and see the damage done is, pitying.

“...What's your son's name?” Irene asks, and Annie takes her phone to show a little baby with the most furrowed brow in irritation she's ever seen- but cute. Undeniably so.

“His name is Sylas Thomas- But…I just call him Tommy.” She says quietly.

“His father is…?”

“...Not in the picture” Annie admits, looking sad. “He…got deported the day I found out I was pregnant. I…I don’t know why he won’t talk to me.”

“...Sad coincidence.” Irene mumbles. Maybe not so much of a coincidence- but it would hurt to kick her while she's still down. It would be just like Phillip to deport her man… And threaten him into no contact. He was fiercely protective of what he thought was his.

“When I found out I was pregnant with Jack, I was already finishing the divorce proceedings.” Irene explains. She had a solid case for primary custody- bruises. Settled out of court, without any charges and he fucked off once he realized she'd won.

“I'm not going to tell you what to do, Anna.” Irene speaks low. “...But I'm sure you've heard your fair share of warnings. And this is me, someone who's been in your shoes, warning you to run before you end up carryin’ his baby too.”

But the girl only wilts like a flower deprived of water.

“I can't go.” Anna sighs. “He's all I have now.”

“He will take more if you keep letting him take at all.” Irene insisted. “...I'm sure you think he loves you. I'm sure he thinks he does too…” Irene's eyes close as she remembers their old life. Church on Sundays. Dancing in the kitchen. Calling when he could. “...Don't let him make you a victim, Anna. Don't make him the one that'll save you- because he won't be.”

Irene gives her her number. She registers it under “Salon” in case Phillip peeks through her contacts again. He’d begun doing that lately.

Irene leaves that Cafe hoping she got through to her somehow. That even if she stays, she won't let that bastard step on her.

Phillip Graves was a wound on women. He couldn't help but forget they're people, not toys. It was in his nature to conquer.

And that girl was finding out the hard way.

“Bless your heart, Annabelle Pham.” Irene murmurs as she gets in the back of her chauffered car.

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 15

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Raphael continues showing Tav his true colors. The 24 hours are coming to an end and Tav must soon make a hard decision, that only seems to grow more and more difficult, the more she learns.

(AN: You are in for a ride, my dudes. Also, I think we have two chapters left until this whole thing is wrapped up. Read the full notes on AO3 for more info)

WARNINGS: Gore, Blood, Abusive Behaviour, Mention of Death, Mention of Child Abuse, Mention of Child Death, Mention of Domestic Abuse, Torture

Raphael woke her up way too early for her liking. He let her eat breakfast before they went anywhere. She was quiet while she ate, trying to wake up and keep her eyes open, much to Raphael’s amusement. He had the servants bring her a strong cup of tea, which did help a little.

“Can you reveal what we are doing today?” she asked and sipped the tea. “Or is it going to be some kind of horrible surprise?”

“I can reveal what we are doing in a moment,” he said. “Though I will ask you to remember our agreement when I tell you. If you interfere, you will be sent back to Baldur’s Gate.”

She looked at him over the cup with tired eyes.

“Not sure I like the sound of that,” she sighed. “But fine…”

“We will meet a potential client of mine. Unlike the woman you met yesterday, this man is a noble, though he is just as desperate for my help.”

The mention of the woman they met the day before made her stomach churn. She would most likely already be dead. Her children would soon find her lifeless body in her bed and their lives would change forever. Tav had to push the thought aside. Though she was an adult when it happened, she clearly remembered the day that she became an orphan herself. It hurt too much to think about.

Raphael continued explaining.

“He is a lord who has lost his wife and his only heir. The other noble houses of Athkatla refuse to marry any of their daughters to him. Without a new wife and an heir, his house will perish.”

Tav nodded.

“There is some awful detail that I’m missing, I’m sure of it,” Tav said and narrowed her eyes at him.

“It is said that Lord Ophal beat his former young wife to death in a fit of rage,” Raphael explained with a smirk. “The same fate befell his son shortly after, who was only ten years old at the time. It is said the child cried after the death of its mother, as children do. Lord Ophal beat him regularly and had healers on hand for that reason, but it seems that he went one step too far due to his irritation at the child’s crying. Or so the rumors say.”

Tav’s jaw fell, and it felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart.

“And what will your role in all of this be?” she asked quietly, though she had already guessed the answer.

“To procure him a new wife, of course,” he answered casually. “I happen to know a few of the noble families in Athkatla, and if he does sign, I will pull a few strings to ensure that one of those families will happily hand over their young daughter to him.”

Tav was staring at the table in front of her with an empty stare.

“This is too personal to be a coincidence, Raphael,” she muttered. “Are you really so eager to get rid of me that you will make me watch as you help a bastard that is just like my father? He won’t stop. He’ll do the same to his new wife and children.”

“Indeed, he will,” he answered with a chuckle at her naïve statement. “But he won’t do so before he has handed me his soul, which is all that matters, really. I am not eager to get rid of you, I am simply showing you the reality of what I do and who I am.”

Tav went quiet again. She shook her head and breathed deeply.

“Will he suffer?” she asked. “When he dies, I mean.”

“Of course.”

She nodded. In a way it did not matter. This would have happened even if she was not there. It did not make it easier in any way and a part of her did hate Raphael for it in that moment. On the other hand, by Raphael doing this, the man would face certain suffering in his afterlife. A fate that might not be ensured if he did not sign the deal. Men like him deserved to suffer.

“Shall we go?” he asked and held out a hand to her.

She reluctantly took it.

They appeared in a large ornate room with a big table in the middle. At the end of it sat a heavyset man with a red face, stuffing his face with food the way that only people who have never lacked it do. He stopped chewing only for a moment to look up at Raphael and her. His eyes lingered at her.

“Lord Ophal,” Raphael greeted with a charming smile. “This is a business associate of mine. Please do not mind her.”

“Raphael,” the man greeted back. “Business associate, eh?”

The man licked his greasy lips as he looked her up and down. Raphael’s grip tightened around her waist.

“Good for you, devil,” Lord Ophal said with a laugh. “She is rather pretty, I suppose. Except for those scars on her face. Play a little rough with her, eh? I don’t blame you. The pretty ones are always the mouthiest.”

Tav took the deepest breath of her life to not throw a fireball at his face. She also knew that despite Raphael’s outward appearance of calm, he did not take kindly to the comment. She could feel it in the way his breathing changed and the way his grip tightened even more around her.

“I would advise you to remember who you are speaking to,” Raphael said with eerie calmness. “Let us focus on business.”

“Apologies Saer,” the man grunted and continued stuffing his face. “Did you find me a new wife?”

“There are a few potential candidates, to go through,” Raphael answered and sat down beside him.

The two men talked for a while. Her dislike for Lord Ophal only grew with the way he was talking about those young women as if they were objects for his amusement. It took everything for her to bite her tongue, and especially at the hungry looks the lord looked at her with every now and again.

In the end, the lord decided to sign the deal. Raphael was smiling like the cat that got the cream as he did.

“And from the moment that you are a married man, our deal is in effect,” Raphael explained.

“You are invited to the ceremony if you have the time, Saer,” Lord Ophal said with a bright smile. “You can bring your little woman there too, if you please.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, my lord Saer,” Raphael said and smiled widely.

Lord Ophal might not have detected the hint of a threat in his voice, but Tav did.

He snapped and they were back at the House of Hope.

“My apologies,” Raphael said, he was still calm but there were anger and disgust hiding just beneath the surface. “Had I known that the imbecile would disrespect you and I in such a manner, I would not have brought you. I will remember this little show of disrespect once I get my hands on his soul.”

Tav knew better than to speak to him when he was in a mood like that. The line was drawn at personal insults…not child murder, or wife killing, apparently. She sat down as she waited for the storm to pass. She thought as she watched him.

Raphael was enabling murderers and abusers, and that was still difficult to feel at peace with. On the other hand, they would also one day get what was coming to them, delivered to them in tenfold. The problem was that such was also the fate of desperate innocents, such as the mother she had met the day before.

There was a part of her that had a difficult time blaming Raphael alone though. These people had all made a choice. A horrible and unfair choice, but a choice regardless. Raphael had never forced anyone, and as he had said the day before: if he did not help them, then who would? Tav was not sure what to think.

Raphael eventually calmed down, though she could still feel that he was irritated. He took her hand to lead her somewhere. When she realized that he was leading her to the hatch that led down into Hope’s old cell, her blood ran cold. They were going to visit Cassius...

The room was dark and damp. She could only see the faint outline of something hanging in the middle of the room. Raphael led her by the hand to a chair. He sat down first and wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her to his lap. He ran his hand up and down her side in a comforting manner, though nothing about it was comforting. She felt like a lamb being calmed before slaughter.

When he lit up the room with a snap, the hand held her in a grip so that she could not run. She did feel like running when she saw him. Cassius was suspended in air by his Infernal chains. In contrary to when they saved Hope, the injuries that he had inflicted on Cassius were very apparent.

The chains had ripped up his arms, as it looked like he had been struggling to get free. There were wounds underneath the chains that flies buzzed around, eating at the dark rotten-looking flesh. He stared emptily at nothing in particular with his wide eyes. His mouth was open, but no screams came out, just wheezing. Blood was dripping in a steady stream from his mouth.

It was a horrifying sight. She instinctively looked away.

“You see, right here,” Raphael said calmly and put his free hand on her throat to feel for where her vocal cords would be. “When you speak, your vocal cords constrict to form sounds. Cassius’s are currently pried open by a very small and very sharp device. He is also experiencing his worst nightmares over and over again in his mind, more vividly than ever, while he cannot scream without injuring himself.”

Tav’s breathing had gotten faster, and she looked at Raphael’s face.

“I don’t want to see this,” she said quietly.

“But you will,” he answered with a smile. “We had a deal, did we not? Do you feel sorry for him? The man that almost got your friends and you killed.”

Tav didn’t answer. She could still hear Cassius’s wheezing breaths and she did not dare to look at his dead and empty stare again.

“I suppose feeling some sympathy is only natural,” Raphael mused. “You and him do have one thing in common, after all…”

Raphael put a hand behind her head and turned it to look at Cassius. She tried to turn away, but his grip did not allow it.

“Stop…please,” she pleaded.

Something was going on in Cassius’s mind that made him squirm in his chains. She saw him trying to pull his arms to himself and escape. She saw the flesh of his right arm rip as he pulled, and the bone was exposed underneath. His eyes were panicked, and the blood flowed faster from his mouth as he tried to scream. She closed her eyes.

“Open your eyes, or I will send you back,” Raphael said and placed his chin on her shoulder as he kept her close to him in his grip.

She had started to tear up, but she did as she was told.

“Good girl,” Raphael said. “As I said, the two of you have one thing in common. Cassius loved me too, the naïve boy. Were it not for his jealousy, none of us would be here at this moment.”

She could not tear her eyes from the way his arms were tearing at the chains. She could not imagine the level of fear one would have to experience to do so much damage to one’s own body just to escape.

“I humored him of course. He was a decent replacement for Haarlep for a while and I found his puppylike infatuation with me somewhat endearing. His main mistake was not getting out of the way once my interest in him faltered.”

Tav yelped as Cassius pulled one of his arms free. His hand fell to the floor, mostly degloved and only a stump of bone was left where his hand had been. He was choking on his own blood as he tried to scream, with the same empty panicked look in his eyes.

“He was stubborn, naïve, and so certain that if he only tried hard enough, he could make me love him back. A foolish endeavor, really.”

There was a flash of magic, and Cassius was back in his chains, healed and put together just enough that he would not die. Tav looked on in horror.

“Please stop—"

“Though you know all about foolish endeavors, don’t you, my sweet?” Raphael continued, ignoring her pleas. “The two of you are the same. The only difference is that I do love you, in my way, and I never cared much for poor Cassius. However, who can say for how long? My interests are ever fleeting and even when I might change my mind someday, you will still be mine.”

Tav began struggling against Raphael’s grip and there was no doubt that he could feel it. Instead of letting her go he simply tightened his grip and kissed her neck and shoulders lazily.

“You can ask Cassius how much loving me is truly worth then,” he whispered cruelly in her ear.

“Please…let this be over.”

Tav had seen many horrible things throughout her adventure, but never so up close and never had she been so unable to do anything about it. It was also different because it was someone, she knew who was getting tortured. She didn’t like Cassius, but he never deserved this. No one did.

“It will be over soon,” he said and rubbed the part of her neck that he was holding in a soothing motion. “Though I think it would only be fair that Cassius greets his guest himself.”

Raphael snapped and Cassius seemed to leave the trance he was in. His body went slack in relief. His head fell and his chin rested on his chest. He finally closed his eyes for a moment. He was breathing more normally now, and a whine left his lips, so Tav gathered that the device between his vocal cords had been removed.

“Look who came to see you,” Raphael called out to him. “A familiar face that isn’t mine for once.”

He flinched at Raphael’s voice. He slowly looked up. His expression reminded her of a scared animal that is expecting to get a beating. When his yellow eyes finally locked unto hers, they turned from fear to pure unadulterated hatred.

“You,” he said in a barely audible hoarse voice. “Of course it’s fucking you.”

Tav hesitantly opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off.

“This is your fault…” he said with anger, his hoarse voice cracking. “You ruined my life…”

He was not wrong, though Tav had no other choice when it happened. She had handed the blame to him when Raphael had come home and confronted her and her friends. Cassius was to blame, but if she had known this would happen to him, she might have…

She wouldn’t have. She knew that was the truth. Had it happened now she would have done the same thing, though she loathed to admit it. She still felt pity and guilt when she looked at him.

He was just a young man, perhaps a few years younger than herself. The fool had had been in love with his patron, and he had done stupid things because of it. If that wasn’t something she could sympathize with, then what was?

“I’m…” Tav began. She knew there was no way any words could make up for it. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassius narrowed his tearful eyes at her in disgust. Raphael chuckled behind her.

“Are you now?” Raphael said. “Are you truly sorry that you saved your friends? Would you rather that it be you in his place?”

“I’m sorry about what you have done to him. I didn’t want this,” she said quietly. “You would not have treated me this way. Don’t act like you would.”

“No? Perhaps not,” Raphael purred in her ear. “Though I think you would be surprised the lengths I would go to when someone hurts my feelings. Did you think that it did not anger me that you wanted to leave? After everything I did for you. I was furious. I burned down half of the house in rage after you left.”

Tav had heard that from Korrilla too.

“I took out my frustrations on poor Cassius after. What he had done was no doubt stupid, but had the circumstances been different, I would not have punished him as severely as I have. Mistakes happen. The poor boy only tried to help, after all…I think I must have brought him back from the brink of death and healed him over a hundred times that night you left…”

Cassius was listening to what he was saying too. He was thrashing against his chains while he looked at Tav like a man with murder on his mind. There was nothing but hatred in his eyes.

“I’ll kill you if I ever get the chance,” Cassius said with gritted teeth. “I’LL KILL YOU LIKE I SHOULD HAVE DONE THE FIRST TIME YOU—”

Raphael snapped his fingers and Cassius went quiet and limp against his chains. Raphael finally let go of his grip around the back of her neck. She looked away immediately. She was shaking in his arms. When she looked up at him, she could see that he was enjoying the whole situation.

She was quiet. She had nothing to say to him. The whole room had turned quiet after he had put Cassius to sleep. She felt an emptiness in her chest. She felt sadness and anger at how everything had turned out. Most of all she felt exhausted, emotionally and physically after what she had just experienced.

“So,” Raphael said through the sudden quietness that had fallen upon the dungeon and brushed away a strand of her hair. “Will you want to scurry back to Baldur’s Gate immediately, or will you want to use the last couple of hours to consider your decision before you do? I suspect that this day has at the very least made you hesitate with your firm decision of staying. Am I wrong?”

Tav felt that familiar hatred of him boiling up inside herself again. Obviously for what he did, but also for how he was acting about this whole thing. How aloof he was. How little he seemed to care about everything, when she had seen with her own two eyes that he was capable of caring. She hated how that part of him was always hidden behind all his pride, his games, his bullshit…

That hatred made her see clearly for a moment. She had a realization. That was it. She knew exactly how Raphael worked: he played games. She was going to use her hatred for all it was worth.

“No,” she said coldly and wiped her tears. She could see something in his eyes change, just as she expected. “No, you might be right. I was too naïve to see it…You are an awful person. A monster who is incapable of love…And perhaps also undeserving of it.”

He was holding his perfect façade of calmness, but she could see the slight panic in his eyes. She was going off-script.

“Perhaps it was not only me who was in the right place before I took the stupid decision to come here,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Perhaps you were as well. Rotting in the Hells, alone, as you always have been, with your only company being the shadows that you look for over your shoulder…forever waiting for the next one of your kin to try to kill you, while you grasp for some semblance of control by playing with the lives of people like Cassius and I.”

His eyes narrowed at her when she got up from his lap to walk away.

“Even if I might not be able to love you, I always will pity you, Raphael,” she said quietly. “Now, I think I’d like some privacy to think before I make my decision.”

“As you wish,” he said curtly.

His short response surprised her. She had at least expected a clever retort. She threw him one last glance before making her way out of the dungeon. She caught him swallowing hard and averting his gaze to the floor when she looked at him. She knew that her words had an effect on him, though he did everything to hide it from her. She left him there and went upstairs.

He had detected no lies in what she was saying, because all of it was truth. Perhaps it was only convenient truths, in the same way that he himself liked to deceive people, but still truths. Although all of what she had said did not necessarily mean that she did not still love him.

Her realization had been correct, and she had just proven it: he was bluffing. He did not want her to leave, but he was trying to use her stubbornness against her. He had once done the same when he tried to convince her that it would be the end of the world as we knew it, if a certain orthon escaped the temple of Shar. She fell for it back then, but she would not fall for it now.

Raphael was not a stupid man by any means, but he was awfully predictable once someone had learned all his tricks. He wanted to show her the worst version of himself and then have the cruel victory of her still choosing him despite of it.

She truly was not sure what to do after everything she had seen, but she would be damned if her decision was going to be dependent on what he wanted her to do.

It would be her choice in the end, no matter what.

[irasamu]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 HOME IS WHERE YOU ARE ; an akutagawa ryuunosuke fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . ahhhhhhhh finally the man i simp for is here!!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; fem!reader, angst, comfort, hurt/comfort, husband!akutagawa, father!akutagawa, wife!reader, akutagawa siblings and their slight bonding time, akutagawa is insecure and feels he is a worthless shit, dazai angst (mentioned for aku regarding the older and his mentorship), slight suggestive ending and that's all i remember tbh

oxygen is absolutely essential for human survival and so are some more external factors which extends further then what a human's basic needs may require. however, we aren't talking about human needs but rather what one's humanity needs.

in initial years even the strongest man alive would need a father, a pillar of support and a bundle of knowledge.

of course the mafioso never had the privilege of having this one figure and rather he was this figure for his sister but only his sister knows if he played the role right or failed.

what he, the mafioso who is now on his way to exit the slums he grew up in, is sure of, is that he is failing as an actual father and as a husband.

"maybe if it was a daughter  . . . instead of a son then . . .  maybe you could've seen gin in your child and loved it." were the words you uttered in despair a week ago to him, what resulted in these words being spoken was the incompetent man himself who felt himself flater when he picked his  son and the nearly one year old began crying. he wasn't scared or else you would've not wasted a second in taking him from akutagawa's arms but rather it was the feeling of finally being adored by the man whose appearance he takes after greatly that moved the naive heart of his son.

akutagawa couldn't take the horrifying resemblance out of his mind. the way your chin wobbled and lip quivered as you tried not to burst into tears and the eyes glossed over with tears which screamed of despair was what he found on his son's face as well. and he wondered, truly he did of who is more starved of love ; him, his son or you?

his only regret was that he stood like he always did whenever faced with the outburst of someone he is close to though the one who made him adopt such a habit isn't here anymore with him and the next morning, akutagawa had to leave for a week long mission overseas with his sister and of course he would crumble and his facade would break when gin found him staring at a picture of you and his son on his phone one night when he was fooled to think his sister had already submitted to her slumber, she didn't, she watched the previous and the night before it as well but waited for the cause of her brother's despair.

akutagawa pushed his hand into the pocket of his long coat and felt for the small velvet box as if the object could help to soothe his nerves and anxiety.

he told gin everything for who else if not her whenever something concerned you? when the topic revolved around you or around your son, the only person akutagawa trusted enough was his own flesh and blood. and he wonders why gin respects, admires and loves him so much when all gin felt was admiration for the man she feels fortunate to call brother.

but akutagawa doesn't feel so. he is but failure in the rawest form. a tragedy and a utter ugly and horrible mess of his past self which was broken by the mind of curiosity and joined back in a way he (akutagawa and the man who was once his mentor) knew there was no going back to who he was before. but that's fine after all, akutagawa had been a monster since birth.

akutagawa's hand left the box which oddly provided him with strength as he stood infront of the door behind which lied his home, he punched in the pass code before hearing the click of the lock unlocking and the cold of the metal he pushed down on felt a bit too chilly today.

or is this because he is scared of failing? of disappointing and of loosing the only chance he has of having a family of his own and proving to himself that he can be something more than a tossed aside toy?

akutagawa shook his head as he entered the apartment and closed the door behind him with his leg to see the boxes containing many items ranging from clothes to toys and teethers and various other items which akutagawa bought himself for his son with the assistance of his sister during the last two days after the mission was completed.

akutagawa took off his shoes and quietly strolled into the nursery room. he stood infront of the crib and peered down at the face of his son. akutagawa gulped as why was it that such an innocent soul was cursed to have features similar to him but just softer?

akutagawa's hands turned to fists by his sides as he continued to stare down at his son with a longing and he pondered for a while.

after what seemed like five minutes of contemplating, akutagawa saw his son stir in his sleep and he got alarmed thinking the little one would wake up at any moment. the little boy turned to face akutagawa and opened his eyes and oh.

akutagawa's heart beat fastened and his eyes widened at the innocence and purity in his eyes. he had this innocence once too. so did gin and maybe, maybe dazai did too?

akutagawa ridded himself of all these thoughts before he leaned down to pat his son's back, the latter looked up at akutagawa and the father had to brace himself and use everything in him to not cower under the pure stare of his son whose face brightened at the sight of his father. the boy giggled and the father closed his eyes, the combination of his son's giggles and his own heartbeat is oddly not that bad or unbearable to hear.

when akutagawa opened his eyes again he saw the boy raising his little chuuby fingers to akutagawa and he hesitantly raised his own hand towards his son as well but before the boy could take his father's finger in his hold, akutagawa flinched and pulled his shaking finger back.

the boy pouted but blinked for how can his young brain comprehend the horrors and anguish his father is experiencing?

akutagawa stared at his fingers and then at his son in horror, he couldn't let the soul filled with hope and dreams to be tainted by touching his hands which are daily stained in blood.

but when his son began to whine and babble as he made grabby hands at akutagawa, the mafioso could only stand his ground for a few seconds before his resolve crumbled and he extended his hand for his son to hold.

the little boy immediately latched his hand around akutagawa's fingers and giggled, a smile appearing on akutagawa's face as well. he turned to look towards the door to see you standing there, leaning on the doorway with your head against it and arms crossed over your chest.

akutagawa found it hard to breath but so did you. how were you supposed to talk to the one you are afraid of disappointing and how were you supposed to talk to the one who felt too scared to be cared for?

but one more glance at your husband's finger gripped by your son and your heart melted like it always did and you smiled in defeat at akutagawa, letting him know you had let your walls down again and are ready to talk to him again. the man widened his eyes slightly in surprise because truth be told, he seriously thought he failed and messed everything up this time and that this is the last time he would be able to see his son or you and hence he tried to savour the moment.

slowly and very faintly, akutagawa smiled back and tilted his head.

"i missed you."

there it is again, the feeling of hope of having a future brighter then the past when he read what you silently whispered and akutagawa nodded before he awkwardly looked at his son again, pursing his lips but then he looked at you and muttered,

"gin missed you both . . . and so did i."

the words makes you smile as you nod and turn around to leave the man alone in the company of his son. only lord knows how hard it must've been for your stoic husband who is generally bad with dealing with feeling and emotions to utter these words to you.

you smile as you sit on the couch and take your phone out to ask gin when she would be returning at night as the woman was immediately called to the port mafia headquarters for what you assume as her reporting her end of the mission. you hit the send button and scroll up to play the video again which gin sended you two nights ago, the video showed akutagawa with furrowed eyebrows as he compared two different types of rattling toys before looking at gin and shrugging, he said something along the lines of "both looks shit. how on earth do kids play with these?", before he tossed both into the shopping cart behind him as gin giggled.

you remember how when you saw the video for the first time and read the caption gin added 'looks like papa is trying to make up to his baby and wife.', made you smile and your anger immediately evaporated.

it must have been ten minutes later when you were leaning back on the couch with your legs on top of the coffee table infront of you when the door to the nursery was quietly closed, you turned your head to see akutagawa approach you after what you assumed was him putting his son to sleep, the thought itself made your heart swell with adoration.

". . . i put him to sleep." akutagawa whispered albeit he remained unsure of what to do. should he sit on the couch next to you or continue awkwardly standing infront of the coffee table under your gaze which seemed to see way beneath the layering of his clothes and skin and made him feel utterly exposed to you?

he decided on the former.

your voice isn't soft nor is it gentle, it is shaky and unstable, raspy and filled with sorrow. but akutagawa was never into that type anyway, the calm before the storm? yeah no. akutagawa knew the storm and felt calm in it for he is the one who grew through the storm and lives in it.

akutagawa sat next to you and you tilted your head in his direction as he contemplated before he extended his hands to grab your thighs and place your legs on his lap, it gave him a sense of security as he tricked his mind into believing he is being restrained until and unless you two clear the tension between you two but you both knew it was mostly so he could have something to focus on rather then looking into your eyes with the fear of his stoicism slipping away.

"it's not that you are a bad father." you began after concluding that he wasn't going to make the first move, you looked down as you picked on your nails to distract yourself, "you are trying. and that's what hurts ryuu. you are trying and i see it, i see your efforts but our son . . . he is not even one yet, he doesn't and won't understand it. us trying isn't enough for him because he will grow up to despise us both because he doesn't know you like i do, he hadn't seen you struggling and . . . and he won't see you as a father but as a man he shares the same features and last name with." you confess.

safety and protection is a luxury he never received but is trying to give.

"what good is not looking past your exterior? i just . . .  love you alot to even think of you as a lost case." you answer before you look down as you part your lips but close them again before gathering the strength to look up at akutagawa, "are . . . i thought about this alot but  . . ."

". . . i know." he answered after a long moment of silence and you looked at him, thickly gulping as the nimble and lithe fingers of your husband traces over your thigh. he pushes your nightgown upwards to reveal more of your skin to him. "maybe your biggest misfortune was falling for a monster like me."

the words hit you and you feel the effects of it physically, your breath got stuck in your throat or did they even ever travel through the windpipe because maybe the latter can explain why your eyes are getting teary.

your brain sighed at the way your heart is making these baseless excuses to explain its sadness at the words of the one it dances every day and night for.

akutagawa sadly looked at you and he felt time blurring around him, your eyes filled with tears were shining or maybe it was the light reflecting it?

okay but how will he explain his own heart beating faster as if mimicking your's to not let your heart dance the waltz of sorrow alone?

"then change my misfortune into fortune." your voice cracks as you look at him through teary eyes, head tilting as you smile in defeat and in response, akutagawa comfortingly squeezed the flesh of your thigh.

"what good is it having faith in a lost case?"

akutagawa closed his eyes as he repeated the words 'my husband' in the back of his head. the title fills good and soft on his tongue and maybe it's why his shoulders relaxed as he moved before laying down on the couch with you still on top of him as he didn't break the kiss for even a second.

you take a deep breath, "am i holding onto you against your wishes ryuu?"

you were going to clarify your meaning and feelings more but it all disappeared the moment you saw akutagawa stare at you in utter surprise on his usually stoic or sad and almost lost face. you take a few shaky breaths to not burst out crying as that'll just hinder your conversation and so instead, you shrug and try to smile admist your quivering lips.

"what made you think that?" he asked, voice uncharacteristically soft.

". . everything since the past few days." you answer and watch akutagawa pat your thigh as an indication to ask you to move closer to him.

"i told you i am a lost cause. i'll hurt you and disappoint you."

but how can he when even the tone he is using with you is one which felt as if it's a feather tickling you?

"i also told i don't care, i can take it as long as you love me." you mutter out, moving near him as you hide your face against his shoulder and akutagawa gripped your hips to lift you up before adjusting you to sit sideways on his lap.

"can you take it? are you ready to wait for an excruciatingly long period of time?" akutagawa muttered against the top of your head, his hand smoothed the nightgown cloth against your legs.

"always." you breath out, closing your eyes.

akutagawa looked down at you and shook his head, leaning down to kiss your nape before he mumbled against it, "you really are an idiot for saying this."

"let me be one then. a idiot in love." you peek up at him and akutagawa took it as an opportunity to cup your jaw and pull you towards his mouth.

"does this make me the fool trying and disappointing you every time?" he whispered against your lips and licked his own.

". . . you are a good father and a good husband. you . . . i just i don't know."

"you don't know?" akutagawa's lips curled up into a small and amused smile. you leaned near him and the distance between your lips and his is enough for someone watching from a distance to assume you two are kissing.

"i just know that i want to spend my life with you even if it means waiting for you, i just want to appreciate your efforts for me and our son but . . . that'll only be possible when you stop viewing yourself as a monster."

"and what am i if i am not a monster?"

"my husband." you close your eyes as you lean to kiss him, akutagawa hums before raising his hand to massage the spot behind your ear while the other gripped your thigh to pull you more onto his lap.

[piffany666]

My new grease fire life

A swap au with jean, Duke dandy, intern and dennys

Chapter 1.

(Disclaimer: since Duke dandy has confirmed himself within the series that he is gay this intern will be exclusively male)

The back of Duke's head hit the wall he was leaning against as he groaned, he had left his lighter on his bead side.

He decided not to best himself up for it to much tho, while he did make a habit of smoking at work, it had been a chaotic couple of months so he decided it best to cut himself some slack.

If he thought about just how chaotic his life had been as of lately he gave himself a headache, how so much could happen within the span of so little time he didn't know. How he went from "back ally pot head" to "D list mafia goon" he just...didn't know.

Or at least he tried not to think about it...

His co workers where cool enough tho, listening to Bing and Boom fight on the regular provided him with enough entertainment to last a lifetime and his boss wasn't that bad either, another anomaly considering Duke's genral behaviour towards him and his son, but Bing and Boom had told him that such attitude was similar to that of a guy who used to work with them that he "ought not to mention" so that was probably why he got away with being as disrespectful as he had been, apparently the guy who bing had told Duke he "ought not to mention in front of the boss" had made off with a suitcase containing thousands of dollars worth of pokemon cards that they where planning on laundering, upon hearing this for the first time Duke couldn't bring himself to stop laughing.

But in any case, something Duke found interesting about that story was how he managed to even get a hold of that suitcase. Apparently, according to the brothers, the intern had shot the girl who had the suitcase in the hand, causing her to drop it. He and his predecessor left the scean with the suitcase, and the next thing the brothers knew, the intern was alone in the accounting office with no suitcase and no accountant.

Duke didn't know why he couldn't stop thinking about that story for a long while after he was told it, maybe it was because he felt bad because according to the boss everyone was so impressed by the interns actions that day that they where all planing on letting him in on the gangster shit Bing and Boom got to do every day but due to their accountants disappearance somone needed to handle finances leaving intern trapped in that office. Or maybe it was his curious-ness regarding that old accountant, who's name Duke couldn't muster up enough fucks to give to remember, and what could have happend between him and the intern that lead him to give up the suitcase or-

Duke suddenly heard the door to the accounting office open along with the sound of Bing and Boom's voice.

"Thanks intern, Boom get in the car. Duke, we're done here, you comin' or what?"

Duke didn't move from his position against the wall, there was no way he was doing any gangster shit without his mandatory smoke brake so he figured he'd test out what the boss was willing to put up with and take the rest of the day off.

"Nah, I'm good. Maybe I'll catch you up, but probly not"

"Oh...alright then...?" Bing was clearly sceptical but that certainly wasnt stopping Duke.

Boom also seemed concerned

"Are you sure Duke? The boss will be mad"

"Yeah I'm good big guy, besides if the boss isn't going to get mad at me for saying his son should've been swallowed by his wife he's not going to get mad at me for skipping a day's worth of work"

Duke heard a snicker coming from the open doorway of the accounting office, the intern closed the door behind them and stood outside still laughing at Duke's coment.

"Did that really happen?"

Duke wasn't sure if he was talking to him or the brothers but regardless Bing answered.

"Oh yeah you should have been there intern, the look on his face was hilarious!"

"I can imagine, wish I was there to see it..."

The look on interns had face darkened, Duke thurowed his eyebrows at this.

"Hey, come on, intern. we talked to the boss, and he said that if we find a new account, he'd group you in with us in a second!"

Bings attempt at reassurance was sweet but seemed to do nothing.

"It's cool, don't worry about it... now don't you guys have gangster shit to do?"

Intern's smirk returned, but it wasn't the same as before.

"Oh shit, yeah, you're right, Boom! Get in the car!"

"Buy intern!"

Boom waved from inside the car before it sped off.

Intern gave him a small wave before they went out of sight.

Duke just stood there a moment staring at him, he'd had a total of 4 actual conversations with him all of which where just in passing maybe now was a chance to change that?

But before he could ask intern if he had a light on him, the intern turned to him and asked:

"You want a light for that, or are you just gonna hold it?"

Taggs:

@pinkcocopuff-aqualoid (thank you for the name) @jarromir (thank you for the encouragement) @lozerboylucas (thank you for the ask post that started all this) @escapedaudios (and thank you for making these hot losers)

[teewritessmth]

~~Meeting your dad for the first time~~

Kenny x f! reader

Summary : You want Kenny to meet your dad, but do they get along?

Warnings : slight use of a gun metaphor, no mother figure

You lived with your dad, your mum having parted ways with the both of you many many years ago. You two barely missed her, so she isn't really worth mentioning now, is she?

Your dad knew you were seeing somebody and was over the moon to find out that his little girl was finally settling. Even though a part of him hurt realizing how quickly you grew up in front of his eyes.

But he is your father after all, seeing your beaming smile everyday was more than enough to realize you were with a good man.

So naturally he wanted to meet your boyfriend of over 4 years, Kenny.

.

.

.

"He wanted to meet me? " Kenny furrows his eyebrows looking at you in confusion.

"Well mostly I suggested that you two get to know each other, since I already met your family". You smile at him.

"I mean I'm not opposed to the idea but will he like me? Dad's are usually ferocious when their daughter starts dating someone".

"No way, my dad is not like that". You huff, determined to make a good impression of your father. "Let's just meet up at one of dad's restaurants so we can have a good chat with each other. I'm a hundred percent sure he's gonna love you".

"And I'm a hundred percent sure he's gonna shoot me right through the skull". Kenny sighs. "But I'm willing to do that for our future".

His words almost make you tear up, so to hide that you reach over and kiss him gently.

"I love you Ken".

"I love you my darling".

.

.

.

You dad sat opposite to Kenny, he could say that the younger guy was nervous, but held immense amount of love for his daughter.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Y/l/n". Kenny smiled.

"Lovely to meet you too, my son". Your dad returned the smile and patted Kenny on the back. He could feel Kenny visibly relaxing and slowly engaging in to conversation with him.

You on the other hand were overjoyed to see the two most important men in your life get along. You felt so proud of Kenny and so much love for your dad who had accepted Kenny wholeheartedly. It could've easily been one of the happiest days of your life.

"Excuse me for a bit guys, I need to use the restroom". You excuse yourself from your dad and Kenny and head to the stalls to freshen up your makeup.

Kenny seizes this chance to talk to your dad one to one.

"I have something to tell you". Kenny looks at the man in front of him with hopeful eyes, hoping that he would react in a positive way.

"Oh, well what is it?". Your dad rests his arms on the table, realizing that this might be a private conversation.

"Sir, I have known Y/n ever since she was 12 years old. She is an amazing human being and has been there for me during our friendship days and when we were in love. I can hardly imagine my life without her in it. She makes everything better, and I hope you would give me your blessings to marry her and make her my wife". Kenny let's out a breath and anticipates for an answer.

Your dad remains silent, eyes glued to the table.

Kenny could hear his heart jump to his stomach, suddenly he felt like throwing up.

"I-I am so sorry, I shouldn't have asked that from you so early"-

Kenny cut himself off when your dad flashed him a happy smile.

"How could I ever say no to that question, You're a good man I'm sure, my Y/n saw the best in you and she loves you. Who am I to stop two people that love each other get married. You have my blessings, Always and forever".

Kenny laughs and your dad claps his back, the two men hug each other as they realize they would soon be related.

You come from the restroom to find the mood of the room a lot better than you last saw it.

"You two must have cleared some stuff out, look at you two beaming with joy!!".

Kenny and your dad wink at each other, relishing in your confused expression and laughing the night away reminiscing about the past. You sat there confused still, but so happy to know that Your man had finally befriended your 'beast' of a dad.

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 4

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Illness/cancer, not the world's best father/son relationship, character death, parent death, hospital Summary: There is sad news to be delivered to the people and decisions to be made, but the one thing you can promise Javi is that you will be beside him while he makes them. Notes: Guys this is just...this is a really hard chapter, so we tried to keep it short and push through the topic respectfully. And, of course, gif choice has no reflection on the reader's physical appearance.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

You are a godsend and Javi is happy you are with him, unable to think of what might have happened if you had not been there for him as chaos and confusion swirls around you both. His brow furrows and he shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”

"The doctors will tell us what happened." Javi had told you that his father did not have much time, but from his reaction you doubt this is what he meant. "Can you tell me what happened?"

“I do not really know.” It seems almost like a blur. “My father had a meeting, and I was walking beside him when he suddenly froze and started to gurgle before he fell out of his chair.”

"And you had not been doing anything strenuous this morning?" You don't believe that anything he could have been doing would have caused that reaction from his father, but the doctors will surely ask and you want to be able to tell them in case Javi is too upset. "Did he seem upset or not himself while you were looking at rings?"

Javier’s eyes close guiltily. “No— but….” He sighs heavily and opens watery eyes to find yours. “The ring is…special.”

"Special...to him?" Trying to figure out if the king may have been upset or under some kind of stress isn't simple – not when you would hazard to guess that he rarely shows any real emotions whatsoever.

“It was…the ring my mother wore.” Javier admits. “My father was pleased with the idea. But urged that you should pick your own band.”

"It doesn't sound like he was upset about the choice, or that it caused any tension." Although you do squeeze his hand a little tighter. "You...you really want me to wear your mother's ring?" Your own mother's engagement ring is in a safe somewhere meant to be passed to your brother's future wife, so the idea isn't strange to you at all. In fact, it's reassuring. It shows just how sure about the idea of the two of you together that he has become. He would never even think of giving you something of his mother's if he thought badly of you in any way.

“I would love it. It is special and I think that you would wear it well. Treasure it as I do.”

"I will." You can promise him that without hesitation, and you bring his hand up reflexively to leave a kiss on his knuckles. "It does not sound to me like he was upset by anything that happened this morning. The doctors will tell us what has happened, and we'll go from there."

“I’m not ready.” Javi admits quietly. “I thought I had more time. I need more time. I need to tell him things.” There had been a time where he had imagined his father would always be there.

The unfortunate reality is that he may not have time. There is a chance that today is the day the king dies, and you hate to be the one who is detached from the situation enough to actually have that thought clearly. “Think of what you want to say to him,” you encourage him instead, trying for optimism. “When he has had some rest, I’ll leave you and your father to talk.”

“Please stay.” His eyes turn towards you, soft and begging. “He— he approves of you. Never would have allowed my mother’s ring if he didn’t. Please.” His fingers tighten against yours. “I feel so alone.”

“Okay.” Your free hand comes up to him, cupping his cheek gently, and you nod. It seems like that feeling of childlike fear when a parent is sick doesn’t change even as you get older and it breaks your heart to see him so sad. “I’ll stay. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Javi. I’m not going to go anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Javi sighs, shaking his head. “I know it seems ridiculous, but he has always been there. I had hoped the doctors were wrong. There could be some kind of miracle.”

“It isn’t ridiculous to have hope, or to love your father.” In fact, it’s fairly refreshing as political parent-and-child relationships go. “We’ll do this together. Whatever this ends up being.”

“It’s good you are here.” Javi had dreaded your appearance, but it seems like his mother had chosen perfectly when she had insisted that her friend’s daughter was perfect for him.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner." It's obvious to you, even after a day, that things have been difficult for him for a while now. It feels like a failing on your part, somehow, that you weren't here to be by his side much earlier.

“I do not know that you could have been.” Javi admits, looking down at your joined hands. “I don’t know if I would have been as accepting. But I am glad that I am.”

"I am glad, too. I wouldn't want to make your life more difficult than it already can be." There is quiet between you in the car for a moment as it speeds down the city streets. The hospital cannot be too far – the island simply isn't that large. "Your cousin is...forceful." You murmur, hating to break the silence with it but wanting to at least breach the topic in private.

“Hm?” Javi looks away from the road, his eyes fixed on the ambulance where his father is being transported.

"Lucas." You prompt quietly. "He seemed...very ready to take charge."

“He is always very eager to help.” Javier frowns slightly, the unease whenever he is brought up starting to make his stomach roll. He bites his lip and wonders what you thought of the man who had been deemed more worthy than he had been to marry Gabriela.

"Does he help you often?" It did not seem as though help had been first on his mind, but rather entirely railroading over Javi to take over the situation.

“He is more than willing to help, although my father normally assigns him tasks that take him away from the palace.” He tells you.

"I see." That seems like a deliberate choice, but you don't have enough information on the situation yet to determine more. Instead you squeeze Javi's hand gently. "Is it alright with you that I have chosen Gabriela to be one of my ladies? If it will make you uncomfortable, I fully understand. She just seems a very kind woman to me."

“She is a wonderful woman.” The bittersweet ache that normally occurs when he sees her or hears about her doesn’t come this time. “As long as you know our history and are okay with it, I do not see why you should deprive yourself of her company.”

"It's one of the reasons I chose her," you admit. "Because I know that she has been important to you and sometimes people like that are hard to find." There are plenty of women who would be worried that Javi might begin an affair or make her his mistress, but somehow you just can't see that as a possibility. He doesn't strike you as that kind of man to begin with – and if he is? Then he would find a way to take a mistress regardless of the situation. You would rather it happened with your knowledge and someone you know rather than as a trussed up little secret to end up in the papers.

He stares at you for a moment, unable to believe that you are so incredibly gracious. You will make an excellent queen, one that will be kind to his people and help him bring his country into a new era of health and prosperity. “Thank you.”

"I care about you very much," you tell him softly, already feeling the deep impulse to say more but knowing that this is not the time or place for such a confession. The car turns abruptly, following the ambulance around a curve and then tips downward as though it is going down into a tunnel. You have to assume that the emergency vehicle and your car are allowed under the hospital for security reasons and you're grateful that at least there will not be onlookers or cameras down here. "Whatever happens, I am right here," you remind him as the pulls to a stop.

Javi takes a deep breath and nods before he steps out of the car. His hand still in yours, he turns to help you out of the car and immediately turns to watch his father being rushed out of the ambulance.

"This way, your Highness." The guard that had been riding in the car with you is already following after the gurney and has a hand out to guide Javi alongside him. The look he spares you is polite but noncommittal, having seen the way you handled Prince Lucas at the palace. "His Majesty will be seen to immediately, but you will be able to wait in his room for news."

“Thank you.” Javier nods. “I want a media blackout in the hospital.” He tells the guard. “No news of my father’s condition is to get out until we know more.”

“Yes, your Highness.” The man immediately taps his watch to check a message, and you realize you have been wrong about this person’s job title. He wears a uniform, but a less elaborate one than the other guards and that seems to be for a reason. “I am ordering a blackout at the palace as well, until you are ready to deliver an official statement.” This must be the king’s personal assistant.

“Yes.” Javier nods, his jaw flexing slightly and his face suddenly a lot wearier than it had been. Weathered by the sudden onslaught of responsibility. “That would be best. Nothing is to come out until we have determined what our course is going forward.”

“Very good.” The man nods, continuing through the halls at the prince’s side until he glances again toward you as board an elevator together. “Your Highness, at the risk of being impertinent?”

“What is it, Julius?” Javier asks, frowning slightly. His father’s man has never been one to mince words and he knows that his father probably is more candid with him than Javier.

“The hospital officials will be reticent to speak in front of your guest,” he is doing his best to be polite, but this situation is slightly more important than basic manners would usual cover. “Do I have your permission to assure them she is to be treated as family?”

“Absolutely.” Javier turns towards you and asks permission silently. “Are you comfortable with that? I had— my plan was to formally propose tonight.” He admits quietly.

“I am perfectly okay with that. Formal proposal or otherwise, I’m not leaving your side.” You assure Javi, and nod to the man he has called Julius. “Whatever today holds, we will respond accordingly.”

“I was planning on making it special.” Javi murmurs sadly. “Having your favorite meal prepared and served out by the cliffs. Moonlight and fairy light proposal.” He chuckles. “One of my ancestors had a good sense of humor and there is a glass slipper in the royal collection. I was going to put the ring in the toe of the shoe.”

It sounds perfect, if you’re honest with yourself. Like a real life fairy tale. And you hate how defeated Javi looks over something so romantic. “It sounds utterly romantic. And we can still do all of that,” you promise him, voice soft and gentle to be reassuring. “A worrying day does not have to rule all of our decisions. And we can even decide to wait if you prefer.”

“I don’t know if that would be prudent.” Javi sighs, wishing that the king had not collapsed. “I am the next in line for the throne. My people need to see that I am strong enough to carry them.”

“You are strong enough, but I am here with you. And you know my answer.” It isn’t meant to be cruel or cold, and you squeeze his hand in yours as the elevator starts to slow. “If you had the ring with you, I would wear it immediately and we can have our romantic dinner as soon as timing allows.” It isn’t ideal. Not to either of you. But right now idealism matters much less than the reality of the situation.

His brow furrows a moment and it’s going against everything in his entire body to do it, but he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a surprisingly nondescript box. “I do have it.” He offers quietly. “Are you sure?”

“It may surprise you to hear it.” A glance to your left and you see Julius dedicatedly studying the elevator wall facing away from you. You turn a smile back to Javi and nod. “But I have no hesitations. Whatever hardships you face, I face them with you. Whatever joys we have, we have them together.” Years have come and gone where you had questioned if you had any ambition to be a princess. To be a queen. But the moment he smiled at you, the truth washed over you like a wave — your ambition is him. To be what he needs. And tonight or tomorrow or whenever he decides to formally ask the question, you’ll tell him then that you’ve started falling in love with him.

“I have had no question where my life was directed.” Javi admits. “Since my first breath, my path was determined and shaped for me. And even though you were also selected for me, I am surprised by how earnestly I look forward to our adventure together.” He smiles, not as brightly as the night before, but it is sincere. “That is what it will be. Our adventure.”

“I have always known it was an honour to be chosen,” you tell him honestly as he lifts the brilliant diamond ring from the small leather box. “But now that I have met you? I am excited for it.”

“I hope that you stay excited.” He hopes as he takes your left hand and starts to slide the ring onto your finger. “It will be difficult at times.”

"There are things worth fighting for." The heavy meaning of the ring isn't lost on you, but you watch him slide it into place with a feeling of deep, true pride. "I will always fight for you and at your side." The elevator stops almost as soon as you finish speaking, and Julius turns after softly clearing his throat. "God save the Princess of Mallorca," he intones seriously, though the smile on his lips belies him. He was listening to every word and he is glad to hear such honesty from you. "After you, your Highnesses."

It's nearly surreal, hearing 'the Princess of Mallorca' and for the first time, feeling as if this is his decision. He decided that the despite the personal termoil that is going on, he would go through with the plan that had been laid down. Modified of course, but the there was no hesitation on his part when he had time the think about it. "Get used to that." He warns you.

"For your father's sake, I hope to remain princess for a good long while." You promise him, but even in spite of that you can't help smiling slightly. Deliberately tangling your right hand in Javi's left means the ring on your left will be on display for anyone who catches sight of you ask the three of you walk swiftly down the corridor and maybe it's a little bit of that American 'image is everything' mentality that makes you think of it but that might not be a bad thing. Some things are symbols for a reason, and engagement rings are a very important symbol all on their own.

Javi smiles and applies the tiniest bit of pressure to your hand, although he doesn't think that will be the case. The very serious expression on the medical staff's faces was telling him more than anything else. They are all very concerned about the King. "You will be a beautiful princess." He promises.

"Your Highness." A tall man with shock-silver hair and a deliberately calm demeanor despite his solemn face approaches you and Javier with his arm outstretched. He is wearing a white coat with his name embroidered on it and a laminated badge that marks him as the head of the hospital's oncology team. "Your father is being examined. This way, please." There is medical staff and security everywhere, but no one speaks as you, Javi, and Julius are ushered into a room on the left side of the hallway. Once the older man shuts the door behind the four of you, a pinched if polite smile is the most he can manage. "I need to know everything you can remember about this morning and what happened when the king collapsed." The doctor asks, although it is urgent enough that it could almost be perceived as a demand. "Even the smallest clue may help us determine the course of his treatment."

Javier nods, frowning as he sits down. Starting to go through the entire morning slowly, mentioning every wince and shift of pain in the King's seated position in his chair. "He took his medication right before we left the royal safe." His frown deepens. "He does not like when anyone sees him take it. Even me, normally."

"He has the medication on his person?" The doctor has been listening attentively, nodding along with the prince's recounting of the morning activities. "We will put it safely with his things," he assures Javi when the younger man nods. "His physician is with the examination team. For now all I can tell you is that we are working to stabilize him."

"Does it— does it look dire?" Javi asks, almost afraid of the answer, but he also needs to know. "Do you think it was a heart attack? A stroke?"

"It does not appear to have been a stroke." The doctor pauses, clearly not wanting to deliver the news that the prince has asked for. "But it is very likely that it was a heart attack. A severe one."

Javier's eyes close and he sways slightly on his feet, absorbing the news and nodding after a moment. "If it was a heart attack, what are his chances?"

"We do not know yet." It would be impossible to guess, and this man is certainly not going to be the one to choose statistics out of thin air. Not when it is the king's life at stake. "We will do everything in our power to help him. But...it is probably best to be ready for unfortunate news."

As much as he doesn't want to hear it, Javier appreciates the candor of the comment. He reaches out and takes the doctor's hand and shakes it firmly. "Please." He asks, keeping his voice low so it doesn't break. "I know you will, but please do everything in your power."

"We will, your Highness." As solemn as the moment is, it is honest. And the doctor excuses himself from the room with a polite nod.

"Shit, shit, shit." Javi's head drops the moment the door closes and the three of you are alone. "It's— he's going to die."

"We don't know that." Immediately putting your arms around him, it's all you can do to rub his back gently and offer him a safe place to exist with however it is that he's feeling. "Heart attacks are not always fatal."

“The doctor did not seem very optimistic.” Javi sighs and looks towards Julius. “Did he?”

"I would say that he was cautious." Julius answers, not inclined to be very optimistic himself. "Your Highness, there are certain...protocols that should be observed. In the event of an emergency." While it is obvious that the prince does not wish to hear any of this, it is the man's job. "With your permission, I will have black clothing brought from the palace and retrieve the draft of the palace's formal statement that your father last signed off on, for you to make adjustments to as you see fit."

“Yes.” Javier nods solemnly and then looks to you. “Include a black outfit for the princess as well.” He instructs Julius. “If a statement will need to be made, I want it to be done from the palace. If the king is dying, I want him transported back. He should pass in his own bed.”

"Yes, your Highness." Julius nods in much the same way the doctor did before excusing himself from the room, already extracting a cell phone from the pocket of his suit.

“This is really happening.” Javi sags under the weight of it all and collapses down into a chair in the room. “He—” he can’t say the words and shakes his head, eyes closed and face pinched in pain.

"We're alone," you urge him quietly, glancing up at the door to make sure no one can see in and only seeing the back of Julius's suit guarding the entrance to the room. You immediately pull the second nearby chair up beside Javi and take up the soft circles you were rubbing on his back just a second ago. "Let it out. Now is the time." As far as you can tell, the next time the two of you leave this room, there is a chance that you may be bringing the king home to die. And if that is the case, you want Javi to have had a chance to vent his fears and frustrations in private.

The tears don’t come like he had thought they would, but he holds his head in his hands. “I should have more time.” He chokes out. “I need more time with him.”

"The doctors will find out what has made him worse." Certainly he looked ill last night at dinner, but not on the verge of collapsing. It is beyond you to know exactly what to say, but you hold on to him with everything you have and let him breathe as best he can.

“Sí.” Javier nods and is eternally grateful that you are here with him. He doesn’t know what he would do if you weren’t, probably collapse into a pile of worry and fear. “They must. Few know of his condition as it is, but his doctor is here.”

You are used to waiting hours for news from medical staff even in the case of an emergency. This is not, apparently, how it works when you are royalty. Or perhaps when it is just this specific situation. When the door to the room where you are sitting with Javi reopens some half an hour later, Julius and the silver haired-doctor are accompanied by another man – a physician in scrubs who looks like he has just aged a decade in the last hour. “Your Highness.” The man bows his head deeply, regret and respect lying heavily on his shoulders.

Javi knows that his father is either gone, or there is no hope, just from the tone of the man’s voice. He stands and takes a moment to roll his shoulders back, taking a deep breath as he walks towards the trio. “Sí?”

“It was a blood clot that caused the heart attack.” Despite being almost twice the prince’s age, the man seems reticent to make eye contact, and it is no wonder. No physician ever relishes delivering news like this to a family. Least of all when your patient is the king. “We detected a second very near to his lungs.” He swallows, hands already wrung out with worry. “But the king’s heart is already failing. I—I am afraid I cannot even guarantee that he will make it back to the palace before he passes.”

“I see.” It’s a miracle that Javi didn’t fall to the floor at the news, perhaps he has already accepted the fact that his father was going to die today. “If the king cannot be transported, he should stay and be made as comfortable as possible.” Javi tells the doctor. “Is he awake? In pain? Does he know?”

“He is awake.” The royal physician nods solemnly. “And mostly aware. Though he has been given an appropriate dose of medication to manage his pain.” With a nod to the door, all three men bow their heads. “He has asked for you, your Highness.”

“Take me to him.” Javi turns back towards you and reaches out his hand for you to join him. He knows you will come, and that you will make the king happy when he sees the ring on your finger.

The group of you is formidable as it moves down the hallways, turning together down a long passage and coming to a stop at a doorway blocked by two uniformed palace guards. They instantly move out of the way for Javi and the door is opened, allowing your party inside. The king in a hospital bed is not a sight anyone relishes. He is pale and visibly weak but seems to be aware as he turns his head slightly to see his son walk into the room.

“Papa.” Javi rushes forward with you, not caring about royal protocol. He cares about spending the last moments with his dying father.

“Mijo.” The pain of breathing has been eased by medicine, but it lurks somewhere in the background like a knowing predator. “Let Julius help you. Papers in,” He breathes deeply and it is obvious how much effort it takes. “My desk.”

Javier nods, reaching out and taking his hand. “I will.” He promises him. “I will make sure everything is exactly how you would wish it.” He knows that he has long disappointed his father, but he won’t let him down now. He wants him to have peace in his last moments.

“Be careful—” Miguel coughs, the inelegant force of it shaking his body. “With trust.” It is not precisely what he means but the medicine makes out frustratingly difficult to think of the right word to use and he frowns slightly. “Choose one person to tell your secrets.”

Javier frowns slightly and nods. He’s already decided to trust you and motions behind him to beckon you closer. “Mamá was your confidant.” He knows that because she had told him so as a little boy. “I will choose my wife, my queen as well.” He takes your hand when you stand beside him and pulls it forward gently. “It is done, papá.” It doesn’t matter that he still needs to formally propose, he wants his father to know that he is taking his future role seriously.

“You.” The king looks up into your face with such utter seriousness that you stand stock still in the face of it. “You will not fail my son.” It is clear it is an order, but somehow there is an edge of fear in the thought, as if he simply has forgotten – or maybe never knew – how to plead.

“No.” Shaking your head, your other hand goes directly to Javi’s shoulder and squeezes it reassuringly. “I won’t. I promise.”

“She has chosen her ladies-in-waiting.” Javi assures him. “She had chosen well, and will be well served for the crown and our people.” He smiles. “You have done well for me, father.”

“Stay.” Again the order seems like it might have once been a request, but the king has long forgotten how to make them. Instead he holds his son’s hand with what strength he has left and shakes with the effort of a breath. “Stay.”

“I am not leaving you, Papa.” Javier chokes out, tears swimming in his eyes. He’s not a doctor but he can tell that his father is about to draw his last breath. In just the last few moments his breath has become rattled and his skin taking on a waxy appearance. “Never. I am here.”

It will be recorded in King Miguel’s story that his last thoughts on this Earth were of his wife – the way he gasped her name before exhaling deeply one last time making you so utterly sure that he must have seen here there in front of him in the room even as he held Javi’s hand. Long silence in the space seems to have swallowed the hearts of every witness: the doctors present alongside Julius, yourself, and Javi all sharing a moment of contemplative grief in the room with the now deceased monarch.

Until Julius’s deep voice vibrates softly through the space. “The king is dead. Long live the king.”

Javier’s eyes close and he swims in his grief for a moment. Allowing himself to grieve his father, despite the monumental moment that is the beginning of his reign. “King Miguel rests. His reign is over.” He murmurs quietly, leaning in and kissing his father’s hand.

“God save the King.” Is a mighty sentence to be heard spoken by the men surrounding you, and you find yourself murmuring the words along with them like you have been swept up in the tide of the moment. It is as heartbreaking as it is groundbreaking, but you stand back and let Javi absorb it for himself for now.

Javi stands and lays his father’s hand over his chest. His shoulders roll back, and he straightens before he turns around. His eyes are still grief stricken, but his face is composed. “Handle his body with care.” He instructs the doctors, “thank you for your efforts in making him comfortable.” He tells the doctors before he steps closer to shake their hands.

The transformation is, sadly, one you think that his father would have been proud of. To see gentle, hopeful Javi feel the burden of the world on his shoulders only solidifies your resolve to be by his side. You listen as Javi gives his thanks and instructs again that the late king’s body be delivered to the palace with care.

“We will, your Majesty.” The doctor who had worked on the king nods and he slips out of the room to inform the discreet staff of the procedures.

Javi turns towards Julius. “My father’s statement, have someone bring it to me immediately. I wish to release the announcement within the hour.”

"If you would prefer to make the address from the palace, I will have your valet meet you with your change of clothes in your office." It is his now, as the office that once belonged to King Miguel has instantly become his son's. "I have an electronic version of the statement for you to read in the car, your Majesty." A few strokes of his fingers on his smartphone and the file is instantly sent to Javi's phone. That is all it takes these days. Julius had always had electronic copies of things kept at the ready even though the late king preferred paper.

“I believe that it would be fitting to have the address be from the office,” he agrees. “Have the mirrors covered with black drapes and find the official photograph from my father’s sapphire jubilee.” He orders Julius. “I will read the speech in the car and make any adjustments I see fit.”

"Yes, your Majesty." This transition may have come sooner than Julius had expected, but he is grateful to see that the prince's first steps as a king are outwardly smooth and confident – even if he does not feel it in himself yet. After a few keystrokes on his phone, no doubt sending directions to the staff at the palace to have things ready for the new king's arrival – the older man turns his head to you. "Flores has things ready for you on our arrival, your Highness. It would be prudent to report to your suite immediately, change, and be on hand for the king's address."

"Perfectly right." It is the thing that will benefit Javi the most, and that is what you're here for.

“Julius.” Javier turns towards the man who has advised his father for years in an unofficial capacity as his personal secretary. “I would like you to stay on in my staff.”

If he was expecting it or not, the small and nearly pleased small that graces the man's face temporarily is full of gratitude. Some new monarchs replace an entire palace staff in order to have things their own way. It seems the new king will not follow that path, and Julius nods deeply as you walk together. "It will be my honour, your Majesty."

Javi turns towards you, and takes your hand. “I do not want the joy of our announcement to detract from the nation’s mourning.” He explains quietly. “However, I want you there with me.”

"Perhaps having a new beginning to look forward to will ease the pain that comes with mourning." You hold onto his hand tightly, offering him the supportive smile that no one else around you can muster at the moment. "I'll be right beside you. I'm sure whatever Flores has picked out will be appropriate and I can be shown to your office immediately." Having promised him that he wouldn't have to do any of this alone, you intend to keep your word.

“Thank you.” His hand squeezes yours and he sends you a grateful smile. “This is not how I wished today to go, but I am grateful you are here with me.”

“Nothing is ever exactly as we plan it.” He is holding the hand is adorned with his mother’s ring, and the metal bites into both of your hands ever so slightly. Like the physical representation of the promise that binds you together. “But I would not be anywhere else.”

“I appreciate that.” Javi murmurs seriously, reaching up to cup your cheek gently. “Let us go prepare the country for bad news.”

******

The drive back to the palace is not quite as efficient as it was to the hospital, but when you return there is an air of questioning about nearly everything. Of course no one has been told much of anything beyond Flores and Javi’s valet having prepared mourning clothing, but you give his hand a squeeze in the hallway before you leave him to change your clothes. “I’ll be with you soon,” you promise, the look of solemn seriousness on both of your faces sure to alert some eagle-eyed staff to what is to come. “As quickly as I can be.”

“Take your time.” He insists. “Take a moment, I know it’s hard to deal with.”

“I’ll take a moment later, when we can take one together.” Your hand is on his cheek like his was on yours earlier, and you would kiss him if things were less public or less strained. But for now you swipe a bit of moisture away from his eye. “I will meet you in your office, and we will do this together.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs softly, showing his uneasy emotions to you for the first time since he has immediately become king. Unsure of why he has someone so amazing in his corner, it bolsters his confidence.

“You’re going to be wonderful, querido.” Something instinctive tells you that. A certainty you can’t name. “Go with Julius and change your clothes. Fix your speech. I’ll be back to you before you even remember I’ve gone.”

He nods once and turns on his heel to follow the man who is now his personal assistant through the wing to get to his rooms. Although he will be moved into the king’s chambers after the funeral.

As quickly as you can move down the hall to your suite without drawing attention to yourself, you’re eternally grateful to find Flores in your sitting room with your jewelry box when you come through the door. “We need to be quick,” you tell her, already unpinning the hat you had been wearing all day before now.

“Yes, your Highness.” She quickly takes the hat from your hand and moves to your dress and unzips it. There can be no modesty between you and your lady’s maid. “I have a Dutti black sheath dress laid out for you.” She explains. “They are a Spanish designer but have a design branch here in Mallorca.”

“I should not be surprised that things have already been acquired for me, should I?” No doubt the late king had your sizes on file and things ordered as soon as he sent for you. He was an efficient man and that was a virtue for him in his position. “Is it appropriate to work out of my own jewelry box for now? It’s not unlikely that the king will want me beside him when he makes his address, and I don’t know if having me in borrowed jewels right away would be seen as the appropriate choice or like an American is barging into the palace head first.”

“The piece from the royal family you are wearing will be very visible, but there is also a selection of jewelry that King Miguel, may he rest, had pulled to round out your welcome wardrobe.” She explains. “He had known you would pick your own style, but he had ordered that this be made available to you as a working example.”

“Flores, you’re invaluable.” As soon as your bright, floral sundress can be whisked away, her capable hands are directing you into a sleek black sheath dress that will hit just below your knees and make you look suitably official for your first appearance as the Princess of Mallorca.

Unlike other kingdoms, who might only have given you the title once you were married to Javi, here it is bestowed on the woman who is to be married to heir to the throne. There will be a small ceremony at some point – you have no idea when – where Javi sets a tiara on your head for the first time. And then you will be the Crowned Princess of Mallorca – the future wife of the king. It’s all based in medieval traditions and regulations, but since you have spent most of your lifetime making yourself aware of the traditions, at least you know what is coming.

“I think…before we get into the crowned jewels…there is something in my jewelry box I would prefer to wear.” Looking up at her in the mirror, the dress is immaculate but your eyes land on your maid’s face. “There is a little silver box that has a pair of pearl earrings and a matching bracelet. They were a birthday gift from the late king. It…would be nice to honor him that way.”

That would be perfect and the way Flores smiles and nods shows you that. “It would be most fitting, your Highness.” She agrees and moves towards the box that had been unpacked that contains your jewelry. “Shall we reset your hair or just your makeup?”

“Just makeup, I think.” The hat you had been wearing had the virtue of being small and not making much of an impact on the way she had styled your hair this morning. “I have no idea what the rest of the day will hold but it would be best to do something neutral, I think. Soft.”

“Yes.” She nods and gives you a small smile. “We will make you look both strong and soft. A welcomed haven for our King Javier.”

“He’s doing well so far.” For as few orders as he has had to give so far, he has been level-headed, reasonable, and gracious. “One of the most difficult days of his life and he has been nothing but kind to everyone around him.”

“He is a good man. A kind one.” Flores nods in approval. “Unlike some, he does not take the staff for granted or abuse them.”

"As long as we are on the topic." You have a feeling that you know precisely who she is talking about, and glance up at her again as you sit in the vanity chair for her to touch up your make up. "I know there hasn't been much time, but have the Countess and Dama Maisie been able to settle in?"

“They have, your highness.” She informs you with a small smile. “Unfortunately, the suite where the Count normally stays has been taken so he had decided to go back to his estate.”

"Oh, how unfortunate." But the knowing sparkle in each of your eyes when they meet in the mirror says otherwise. "I do hope the countess can be persuaded to find comfort and some relaxation without his presence."

“She seemed positively sublime when she was finished settling in and had a tea service sitting in front of her.” Flores giggles quietly.

"I am extremely glad to hear it." And really, you are. Whatever is happening with Gabriela and her husband, it cannot be allowed to get worse. A small shake of your head accompanies the thought and you reach for the earrings on the vanity in front of you while Flores attaches the bracelet to your wrist and hands you a soft, dusty rose shade of lipstick. "Shoes, and then I will be ready. Unless you see something out of place?"

“You look perfect, your Highness.” She tells you with a smile. “It is not the introduction I would wish for you to the country, but you will win their hearts with your respectful honor and kind heart.”

“I don’t think this is the introduction anyone wished for, but it’s the one we have so we must make the best of it.” That’s your mother talking, but you don’t mind it. Sometimes her voice comes through at the best of times.

There are a few extra touches, just to make sure that everything is perfect and then Flores steps back. “You are ready.” She announces with a nod of her head. “I shall walk you back towards the king’s office, unless you wish to go alone?”

"Between you and I?" You shake your head at yourself before smoothing your hand over the dress nervously. "I may get lost if you don't. It's a miracle I managed to find my own rooms on my own."

“It is confusing as first,” she agrees, quickly putting away the cosmetics and ushering you towards the door. “You will soon know it better than anywhere else you’ve lived.”

Setting off down the hall in all black does draw a bit of attention from those people who know who you are – but that number is still so slim that most of the palace staff still seems to considering you invisible. The five minute walk from the residential wing to the king's office is brisk, though, and the footman at the door is taking his job incredibly seriously today.

"The Princess of Mallorca." He announces in a somber and low tone, just as you walk past him.

Javier looks up from the speech and for a moment, he is breathless. You are dressed impeccably, not that he had any doubts that you would be. The dress is respectable and looks lovely on you. Standing, he motions you closer. “Come. I would like your opinion on the speech.”

"Of course." He has changed as well, as you knew he would. Gone are the linen shirt and loose pants that he had been wearing just twenty minutes ago and now he looks every inch a royal in a bespoke black suit. Even the square in his pocket is immaculate. Despite the tragic circumstances, he looks stunning.

He pulls out the seat for you, sitting you behind his father’s — his desk. “Please, give me your honest opinion.”

The page and a half long speech is eloquent, as you knew it would be, and concise. It addresses the handing over of power with clear love for the people. It assures of stability and continued progress. It even has a line deliberately mentioning the new king's intended which Javi has scratched at and edited in his own scribbling handwriting to include your name. It is very...official. And while that is not a bad thing, the bit of it with the most emotion seems to be the part that Javi has added in by himself. "You might make sure to mention that he passed peacefully," you suggest, indicating the paragraph where the late king's illness is mentioned. "It will give people comfort to know that he was not in pain or afraid at the end."

Javi nods seriously. “Yes, I will include that in the speech. Thank you.” Biting his lip, he looks around the office nervously. “Other than that, it sounds good?”

“Yes.” Your hand finds his on top of the desk and you repeat that gentle squeezing motion you’ve both become accustomed to so quickly. “It sounds very kingly. And comforting. The country may be shocked to learn of the loss but they should also feel like you have things under control, which is as close to perfect as we can hope for under the circumstances.”

As long as you believe in him, Javi feels like this might actually be possible. He’s not sure when you became such an important figure in his life, but it is clear that you are vital to his reign as king. “Then that is what we will go with.”

“Short and sweet, as we say in America.” You smile warmly, hoping to give him another moment of reassurance before Julius clears his throat politely.

“This will be an interruption of regular programming, sire, and it will be live. It will take only a few minutes to contact the news channels.”

“Okay.” Javier nods. “Make the calls. I want to be on the air in ten minutes.” He decides.

“Is there anything I can do besides be here?” Whatever he could ask, you already know you’ll do it. The deep initial connection between the two of you has been cemented in a way that no one could have guessed at but has so far made you nearly inseparable.

“Not that I am aware of.” Javi is grateful that you are so willing to jump in and do whatever is necessary. “Are you ready to become known as the Princess of Mallorca, officially?”

“I’ll do my very best to live up to the title.” Given that the last Princess of Mallorca was his mother, you don’t take the title or the responsibility lightly. “Perhaps tonight we can still enjoy a dinner together? Even if it isn’t as elaborate as what you had originally planned?” You know he’ll be exhausted emotionally and mentally after today, but the hope is to give him something to look forward to. A bright spot after a day that has held so much darkness.

“I think that would be nice.” Javi sighs softly. “It might be later than expected since I have to have a meeting with my cabinet and advisors.”

“You do what you need to do.” You promise him quietly. Julius is supervising the entrance of a woman with a television camera with the utmost seriousness and you wouldn’t want to distract him. “I still have an appointment to keep this afternoon and I have a few things to go over with Flores. When you’re ready for me, just call and I will be there.”

“Thank you.” Even though the woman is there, he’s leaning in to press a respectful kiss to your cheek, lingering slightly. “I hope you enjoy your appointment.”

"I think it will be significantly less nerve-wracking with Maisie and Gabriela there." Shifting away from his desk after you squeeze his hand tight in yours, you nod to the woman with the camera and Julius beckons you out of the way to stand by his side.

"If you would stay with me, your Highness," he murmurs quietly as the technician begins to set up the shot and speak to the king at his desk. "I believe it would do him well if he could see your face during the address. Sometimes the presence of the ones we love is all it takes to get through life's hardest trials."

Javi sits down behind the desk, fiddling slightly with his royal seal that is pinned to his suit jacket. He’s terrified that he will fail, but now the time has come that he cannot fail. The country is his to rule, the people his to care for.

A little fussing on the camera woman's part is all it takes, and the room is oddly full by the time the red light off to the right of Javi's desk begins blinking to signify the countdown to being on the air. A few members of the staff have filed in quietly behind where you and Julius are standing, silent as stagnant air but eager to witness this historic moment.

Once the light is solid, Javi begins to speak: “Today, I address you from the royal palace to bring you sober news.” He recites from the speech. “King Miguel has passed away peacefully this morning at eleven forty-three at the royal hospital following a medical event.”

The small group of people around you cross themselves or press their hands to their hearts. Even Julius nods his head. You never take your eyes off Javi, though, nodding to encourage him and breathing deliberately to remind him to do the same. The sort of things your mother used to do with your dad before campaign events.

“King Miguel led our country with compassion, wisdom and an infinite love for his people.” Javi praises. “His presence will be missed and our grief palpable as we move forward into a new time.”

He's doing so well. As far as you know it is the first televised speech Javi has ever made in his life and you give him a discreet thumbs up from behind the camera line.

“I understand that there will be worries about the future,” he personally shares those worries, but he can’t say that to the country. “Rest assured that the transfer of power had already been anticipated with the arrival of the Princess of Mallorca, future Queen.”

When he says your name you could not possibly stand any taller or feel any prouder. He had penned the words into the speech himself and the emotion behind them rings with intent, making your hand move to your chest with a very different feeling than everyone else in the room. Every end is also a beginning, and as devastating as that end may be for some, you cannot help but be excited for the beginning you and Javi face together.

“Tonight, we will remember King Miguel, celebrate his life and his reign over the people that he had dedicated his life in service to.” He looks into the camera solemnly and with a quiet pride. “He was a king, a leader, a diplomat, but he was also a man. A husband to his beloved wife and a father. The king took his last breathes with his wife on his mind.”

There is a shadow of a sniffle from behind you and one of the older members of the house staff crosses herself again. You can make out just the mouthing of a blessing from the corner of your eye. Queen Gloria was adored; you know that well.

“I will leave you with a message of hope and remembrance. Grief and joy. Mallorca is a strong nation and while we will remember King Miguel as one of the best monarchs of our illustrious history, the path forward will be forged on the service he has provided his people. Good day and God bless you all.” Javi signs off and holds the camera’s view until the red light goes dark.

You are the second to move, only stepping out from behind the camera when you see the woman operating it switch off the unit and look away from her monitor. "You did splendidly," you promise him, moving directly back to his side at the large mahogany desk.

His hand reaches for yours, for comfort and assurance. “Thank you. I was hoping that my voice was not wavering. I felt like I was about to cry.”

“No,” you shake your head. “Not wavering. You sounded moved, but not unsteady.” In fact, you smile at the honesty of the thought. “He would have been very proud.”

“You think?” He asks, his brows raised and his face nearly pleading with you to be serious. He still wants his father’s approval now, especially. He had left the care of an entire country in his hands. It was much more than a mere inheritance.

"I absolutely do." With no thought to the other people in the room, you bend down to leave a kiss on his cheek the way he did with you earlier. "That was a wonderful way to greet your people as their new king."

“I don’t feel like a king.” He admits with a rueful chuckle. “I thought there would be this moment where it just clicked, but there wasn’t.”

"Maybe there wasn't a time that you felt it." It is unexpectedly intimate, the way your fingers seems to develop a mind of their own and brush one tousled curl away from his forehead. "But the rest of us did." He had transformed almost instantly, and you had seen the different set of his shoulders and the way his head came up a little higher since then. "When you stood up from your father's bedside, every one of us in that room knew it had happened."

“My greatest fear is to let him…them—” he motions to the staff behind you and the rest of the kingdom. “Down.”

"That is not a bad fear to have, querido." You've settled into it. You like the little pet name for him and it seems as though he doesn't mind it either. "But we cannot let it make you too afraid to act. Be afraid, but do things anyway."

“You are very wise, margarita.” He murmurs, leaning into you for a moment and pressing his head to yours. “Very wise.”

“We both have things to do.” If you don’t remind yourself – and him – of that it would be all too easy to get wrapped up in each other. Instead you smile softly and let your hands linger on his arms for a second more. “But call for me and I’ll be there. Especially for our meal.”

“Sí.” He nods and would like to linger but Julius is giving him a discreet look. He needs to convene the council immediately. “I will see you later, Princess.”

Javi's day will be absorbed in policy and in ritual, but yours will be dizzying in a different way. Walking back to your suite, there is no mistaking the reaction that people have to you now. That broadcast went out to the entire country and as such the entire palace has been informed. King Javier I has stepped up to his responsibility and has announced the arrival of a new princess. You're met with bows and curtsies instead of disinterested looks, and the doors to your suite are opened for you a whole six feet before you could reach it yourself.

"Your Highness." Flores is beaming as she rushes towards you, her own station elevated by the news that you are the next queen of Mallorca, although she is more interested in your reaction. "How has the change been?" She asks. "Nearly instantaneous, sí?"

"Very much so." And as dizzying as that is, you are glad to see that Flores is only excited and nothing has changed here. Not in this room, at least. "How long do we have until the dressmaker arrives?"

"They will be here in ten minutes." She checks her watch. "Would you like to change into something else, or greet the dressmaker in your current outfit?"

"This will be fine." There is no need to change a third time only to have to essentially undress to be measured and fitted for new clothing. "Perhaps it would be prudent to have the Contessa and Dama Maisie brought in before her arrival?" You glance at the clock on the mantle across the sitting room and bite your lip when you look back to Flores. "And maybe a tray? I know teatime isn't exactly Spanish but we have all missed lunch due to the commotion."

"I can have a light fare brought in for you and your ladies, as well as the designer?" She asks. "Tapas?" She knows that today is a trying one for you and she wishes to make sure that you have everything you need.

"That would be wonderful." You have seen already how invaluable Flores is going to be to helping you navigate your way through things, but she seems to prove it continually. "I am..." You sigh, floundering as you look for the word, and ending up with just a shake of your head. "Scattered. I am scattered, I think." Without Javi to focus on, the threads of your concentration seem to just slip away like waves from the shore.

“You are not scattered.” She shakes her head and frowns at you. “You must select a personal assistant.” She reminds you. “Someone to keep your schedule for you and coordinate your needs.”

"I wish my brother was here," you admit quietly. "He would be able to manage everything beautifully." Despite your father's insistence that Sebastian would be a Senator just like him one day, you know your older brother. He is a far better hand behind the curtain than the man standing in front of it.

“The Princess can ask anyone to join her team.” Flores hums. “If your brother was willing, I know that there would be no reason to deny him. Although it is a very…personal position. Even keeping track of your menstrual cycle.”

For a second you almost ask why that would be necessary, but you swallow the question when you remember that royal heirs are a necessary part of the job. Because what you have isn't just a job. It is an entire life that is dedicated to an entire country. And just as Javi can't let them down, neither can you. "He has had to take care of worse," you acknowledge with a half-laugh. "I'm going to call him." The decision is instant, and you even feel a little lighter for it. "Would you be kind enough to see to a tray and have my ladies join me in a few minutes?"

“Sí, su alteza.” Flores nods and curtsies before she starts to hurry out of the room. She will make sure that the tapas will be enough to fuel you through the day and give you a selection of the chef’s specialties.

Taking a deep breath, you dig your cell phone out of the purse that you had left sitting on your vanity from this morning, and sit down in the beautifully crafted chair to select your brother's contact information and hit Send. As a staffer in your father's office you know he's busy, but hopefully not too busy to take a phone call. After all, two in the afternoon in Mallorca is 8 a.m. in New York City. He probably hasn't even left for the office yet.

“Hello?” He rattles off his name and title since he uses his cell phone for more business than anything else.

"Hey." You relax instantly at the sound of his voice. It's so easy to picture him standing in the living room of the apartment you shared until just two days ago, mixing his coffee. If you strain, you can even hear the spoon in his travel mug. "It's me."

“Hey!” His voice ticks up and he immediately stops to think about the time difference between him and you. “How is it going? The prince? Is he a jerk? Do you want to come home? I’ll hide you from dad and the whole Balearic Island kingdom.”

"Actually?" You sigh a little at the question. "He's a dream. Manners, romance, and insanely attractive to boot. I—" There's no use beating around the bush, and you don't really have time for it anyway. "Seb, his father died today. Barely two hours ago, actually."

“Oh god.” He’s not without compassion and he hums sympathetically. “I am so sorry. I— it hasn’t broken over here yet.”

"Javi just announced it on the air about twenty minutes ago." You're used to being close to a news cycle, but this is the first time you've ever been directly a part of a breaking story. "So, um...your sister is officially a princess... No doubt Dad will be annoyed that I told you first instead of him."

“What he doesn’t know.” Sebastian practically rolls his eyes through the phone.

Both of you laugh softly, knowing how true it is, and you nod against your phone. "I have a weird question for you, Seb."

“How weird could it possibly be?” He snorts. “You are in a modern day arranged marriage and it seems to be making you happy.”

"The thing is..." He's right, again, and you're glad for the little reprieve in what has been an otherwise stressful day. "There's a lot going on here. As I'm sure you can imagine. It's a lot to manage and my lady's maid is amazing but there are some things that are just...outside of her wheelhouse." For as composed as you have been with nearly everything else today, you are sitting at the vanity biting your lip as you tilt your head back and close your eyes. "I need to hire a personal assistant, Seb. And I honestly can't think of anybody who knows me better or can manage all the crazy stress better than you can. I mean hell, you've survived being Dad's assistant. There's no way literal royalty could be more demanding than that."

The pregnant pause on the other end of the line grows as Sebastian thinks. He knows the job would be stressful but rewarding. Plus, he would be able to see his sister, something he had missed in the short time you have been gone. Getting off dad’s staff would stop the comments about running for his seat when he’s ready to retire. “How soon would you need me?” He asks.

“As soon as you can get here.” The utter relief that runs through you has you sagging in your chair. “And if you decide you hate it or it’s too much, I will totally understand. But I—” You sigh down the line. “I really appreciate it, Seb.”

“Give me two days to settle my affairs here.” Already his mind is whirling and he’s making lists of things he needs to do. “I’m assuming the necessary visas will be available?”

“I’ll have Javi’s assistant make sure everything is in order, and we’ll send the jet for you.” The wheels in your mind start turning on other things, and you glance up at the clock again. “You’re the best brother in the world, you know that right?”

“Of course I am.” Sebastian chuckles, knowing you would say that regardless. “I’ll see you in three days, honey. Hold it together until I get there.”

"I'll get everything ready for you here." Whatever that will mean. But you'll find out from Julius everything that will be entailed. "I owe you, Seb. And I'll call Dad now so that you don't have to break it to him."

“Are you sure you want to do that?” He winces and figures that you are better off not dealing with the headache.

“How much yelling do you think there’s going to be?” You ask honestly, wondering if he might have a point. “I have an appointment in a few minutes.”

“Dad?” Sebastian snorts. “At least twenty minutes.” He rolls his eyes. “Plus a lecture and a tirade. You save yourself the trouble and I’ll tell him that I went to work for a Republican.” He jokes.

“You’ll be disinherited.” Huffing a laugh, you nod even though he can’t see you. “Thanks, Seb. And remind him before he decides to call and leave me a furious voicemail that I’m royalty now. So making me cry might be treason.”

He’s laughing as he says goodbye and hangs up, immediately calling his father to start the ball rolling on changing his entire life, just like you had. You calling him had been a godsend, he had been unhappy with his current direction and had no interest in running for office himself.

Your phone is barely down on the vanity when the doors to your suite open again, letting Maisie and Gabriela inside. They have changed into black clothing as well, in accordance with officially being a part of the royal household as of today, and you pull yourself up to standing when the door shuts again behind them. "How are you both doing?" You ask, not knowing how close either of them may ever have been to the late king.

“It is very sad.” Gabriela sighs and shakes her head. Even though she had been denied the pleasure of marrying Javier, she had tremendous respect for Miguel. “I think that the entire country will be mourning for a long time.”

"His reign was long and influential." Having taken the throne at just eighteen years old, being king was his entire life. And the people of the Balearic Islands would not soon forget him. "Although I am relieved to say that he was not in pain, at the end."

“Yes.” She agrees, nodding her head and folding her hands together in front of her body. “That is the most we can hope for.”

"Gabriella, if you need some time to yourself, I completely understand." Stepping closer to her, you don't want her to feel forced or invalidated in any kind of sadness she might be feeling. Especially when today has taken such a drastic turn.

“It is better to focus on the future than the past.” She smiles sadly and shakes her head. “Keeping busy will be good for me.”

“If you ever feel overwhelmed or like you need to have time to yourself, will you please tell me?” It can’t be something many princesses have ever said to their ladies, but if anyone expected you to be a ‘normal’ princess they have another thing coming altogether. “That is for both of you,” you insist, looking to Maisie as well.

“Thank you, your Highness.” Maisie nods. “I must ask, is there something you would like us to call you in private? Or would you prefer to keep to formalities?”

"I like nicknames," you admit, thinking fondly of even the few times that Javi has used your new pet name. "My mother called me Daisy, and I was always very fond of that."

She tilts her head and nods, smiling softly. “I like that. If you wish, it is completely acceptable for your ladies to call you by that.” She assures you. “Although, only in informal situations and when we are alone.”

"I would like that very much." In fact it's oddly comforting, and you're smiling when the door to your suite opens once more.

“Your Highness. My ladies.” Flores nods respectfully as she wheels a silver service cart into the room. Laden down with fresh squeezed lemonade, a pot of tea and three tiered displays of tapas for you to snack on while you are consulting with the dressmaker. “Please let me know if there is something you wish to have in addition to this.”

“Flores, you are a wonder.” Maisie hums happily.

“She is.” There is nothing that could possibly make you disagree with that, and you lend your maid a smile. “I called my brother, after we spoke. He’ll be here in a few days. Thank you for encouraging me.”

“That is wonderful.” She smiles and starts to set up the food and drinks. “José, the butler, will be escorting the dressmaker here when they arrive.”

"Then let us snack while we can." Maisie grins conspiratorially, shooting you a playful wink. "Before we must have ladylike manners again."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit

TKQ: @storiesofthefandomlovers @mimimarvelingmarvel

My Masterlist!

[rius-cave]

I just saw you mention Adam having PTSD from the exterminations and honestly it's so valid. He did enjoy doing them, he did have fun, yes, but I firmly believe he started it because of his unprocessed trauma that he wasn't even aware of. I mean, I see the way he's masking himself (literally and figuratively) as a way of protecting himself from people. Back when he was "born" he was literally rejected and betrayed by the very people he supposedly loved and who were supposed to love him, then he was practically abandoned and thrown out of Eden by the same people who mentally harmed him in the first place. This guy is badly damaged and no one can convince me otherwise. And he was damaged from the start so he couldn't possibly realize that something was very not okay because these were the very first people he knew. And we all know pushing down our feelings and ignoring them comes with concequences. In his case, the frustration manifested in violence, on top of that violence against his own descendants who chose the wrong path, who had tainted humanity with their acts. He also probably connects them with Lilith and Lucifer who caused it in the first place, bringing evil to the earth. I also love to consider the extermination as a form of personal revenge on Adam's side, since he isn't able to carry out a direct revenge it serves as one for him.

But he knows it's wrong. He knows either way that what he's doing is bad and cruel, and even if he actively avoids admitting that to himself, he subconsciously knows.

Then he gets to Hell. He most likely only used to visit Hell during exterminations, which means his brain most likely strongly connects the place with that. Hence, being in Hell is a constant reminder for him. On top of that, he actually sees what life is like in Hell. That all those "bad bad sinners who can't change and tainted humanity" aren't all bad actually. And perhaps he doesn't care about them, but I don't think he could just ignore that. He has to live among them, he sees the way they live and he's forced to realize that they're still human souls and not pure evil and rotten. It will add to the guilt which he probably also doesn't admit that he feels, because he didn't do anything wrong, right..? Everything was reasonable... But then why does it feel so bad?

Okay this turned our very very long but it just hit me and I could still go on about it lol, I'll spare you from that

First of all, thank you anon for putting into words this thing that I'm not smart enough to do myself.

I really wouldn't dare to say that "canon" Adam is this deep and has oh such big trauma and is only misunderstood by everyone and bla bla, because if I'm honest, the way he's written in the show doesn't lead me to believe that Vivzie really cares about fleshing him out to be a super complex character. And hey, fair enough, I'm taking him from her anyway lol.

But if if we stopped for a second to think about it, Adam definitely has the potential to be a much deeper and complex character that would be able to touch upon themes like this. I desperately need to know when did everything go wrong, was it really Eden? Was it during his time on Earth? Was it after he died???

I honestly think it's kind of a mix of all of them, but the biggest shift was after he died. He was the first human soul in Heaven, hey, it's not so bad in here!! Maybe his suffering on Earth was worth it after all if he was able to spend the rest of Eternity in a place like this! Now he just needs to wait for his family to get there as well so it can all be complete!

Except they don't, not all of them in fact. A couple of his sons, maybe or maybe not his wife, but it's definitely not ALL of them, where is everybody!? He's pretty sure his grandchildren would start aging by now too, where did everybody go!?

Of course, that asshole has them. It wasn't enough for him to steal his first wife and lie to them so they'd get kicked out of Eden, he also took a bunch of his children, his grandchildren, his great grandchildren and so on and so on.

Look at everything they do on Earth, it's disgusting, and it's all that fucker's fault. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for him, if it wasn't for the other sinners who kept repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

And he starts the exterminations after centuries of wallowing in that hatred. But of course, they're only the result of years of watching how everyone just eventually leaves him. And he doesn't realize when that violence starts becoming just a way to cope with his intense hurt.

I feel like I went a little off track there, forgive me I am a little scatterbrained right now. But in any case, I absolutely concur with you!

[pinkcupofcherrytea]

RoyEd Week 2024: Day One

Prompt: "Need a hand?"

Regency/Pride and Prejudice!AU, Friends (?) with Benefits, They Haven’t Confessed Yet But It’s A Thing For Sure, Involuntary Dancing.

Warnings: Some mentioned NSFW. Comment: This was supposed to be way longer and more strictly follow the Pride and Prejudice-formula (with added nsfw-scenes, lol). But I was lazy, and ran out of time, so this is what came of it in the end. Thanks to @royedweek2023 for hosting this week!❤️

[You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. - Bridgerton]

The opulence and brilliance of Lord Armstrong's ballroom had managed to give Roy a headache, or maybe it was just the continuous tittering of Mrs. Weignar that furthered it. Roy tries to be discreet, glancing around the hall until he catches Riza's dark blue dress in the corner.

Please, save me, he gestures.

No, she blinks back.

They have no sign for "you're evil" so Roy sighs and resigns himself to another evening of polite small talk and some equally polite fendering off the hands of sons and daughters of ambitious mothers wishing for a profitable union. Just as Roy considers using Aunt Chris's tried and true method of faking a fainting spell to get out of the conversation, a small buzz is heard close to the entrance, and he turns his head to catch the big smile of Maes and his wife, the latter clad elegantly in pale lavender and matching gloves.

Behind them stride two golden figures.

Roy grins inwardly, and politely bids Mrs. Weignar and her daughter goodbye. "I must greet my old friend Mr. Hughes, you see, hope you will excuse me."

"Mustang!" Maes greets jovially when Roy gets close. "Thought I'd see your face here. Now where is lady Hawkeye? Surprised to see her letting you lose on the innocent crowd."

"I thought it prudent to let him socialize, lest he closes himself of in his estate and decides to communicate with the world entirely through letters," Riza smoothly joins in.

"The both of you have such a low opinion on my character," Roy says, and the buzz of the hall isn't loud enough for the following mutter of "The correct opinion" to go unheard.

Roy smiles, turns toward the sound and makes sure his voice is annoyingly polite when he says, "Mr Elric, how nice of you to join us this evening."

Edward's eyes flashes when he tips his head back slightly to meet Roy's eyes. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"What my brother meant to say-" Alphonse smoothly cuts in, "is that it's always a pleasure to see you, Mr Mustang, Lady Hawkeye."

Riza greets both brothers and Roy nods warmly at Alphonse, but can't help but quickly look down (ha!) to meet Edward's eyes again. "It has been a while since our last acquaintance," Roy says. "The gathering at McDougal Hall, I believe?" Edward snorts. "I haven't exactly counted the days." Roy had. Considering it was the last time he'd had the chance to fuck Edward into a wall and bury his tongue in his mouth while doing it, Roy had in fact counted the days until he got to do it again. And from the brief flash in Edward's eyes when he mentioned the event, Roy would bet the young man has a similar idea. McDougal Hall was crowded and noisy. It was all too easy to slip away from the festivities and then find an empty room in what Roy was pretty sure was close to the servants' wing. Edward's eyes following him, ablaze, from the other side of the room, making sure his brother was busy dancing with a pretty brunette before sneaking after Roy. He pulls Edward into the room, and soon their usual dance of push and pull, warmth and wetness starts as they kiss deeply. The heat in Edward's eyes was finally put to rest when he closed his eyes and moaned into the kiss as Roy pulled his shirt out of his pants.

The Edward of now looked away, and accepted the glass Hughes gave him with a murmur of thanks.

The night continued, and despite some attempts to catch Edward alone, Roy gets pulled into conversation, and by the time he looks out over the hall again, the sky outside the windows is fully dark, and Edward is gone. Roy straightens and looks for the familiar shine of gold among those present, but only catches Alphonse talking happily to the Hugheses .

At least that meant Edward was still here.

As he starts to walk over to where his dearest friend is, Roy catches a flash outside one of the larger windows close to the door leading to the estate's rose-cladden balcony. Walking closer, he catches a glimpse of someone that was surely Edward walking down the steps into the sparsely lit up garden.

After making sure no one is looking his way, Roy slips out the door. He walks closer to the large balcony's edge and finally sees Ed's smaller figure sprawling on one of the stone benches down in the garden, surrounded by some smaller trees that probably gave the illusion of privacy. Leaning down on the cool stone, Roy allows himself a moment to just....watch.

Edward in silence and solitude was a rare occurrence, often only seen when catching him in the library with his nose stuck in a book, so Roy spends a few seconds looking as Edward tips his head back and visibly takes a couple of deeper breaths.

Roy pushes himself up from where he'd leaned on his elbow and leaves the glass on the balcony as he strides down into the garden.

A familiar, small wrinkle appears between Edward's eyebrows as he hears Roy get closer, but when he sees who it is it smooths out and he says, "Oh, it's only you."

"Do not sound so disappointed," Roy says, "It hurts my feelings."

"You have feelings?"

"Very funny."

"I always am." Edward makes a gesture with his gloved hand and Roy cannot hold back an undignified snort. He catches Edward grinning before he looks down. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Did you get tired of stomping at innocent debutantes' feet?"

Roy sits down on the bench next to Edward. "I don't know if you are insinuating that I am a bad dancer, or if you are sneakily trying to get me to abuse your poor feet, but I am willing to take you up on the challenge, Edward."

Edward glares at him. "Do I look like a high-strung debutanté to you? No- don't you dare, don't answer that question," Edward quickly adds as he sees Roy open his mouth to answer.

Roy grins at Edward, then cocks his head. "I do not think I've ever seen you abuse someone's feet, though, Edward, nor do I recall you successfully partaking in social dancing either. Maybe you should prove yourself capable before questioning my dancing skills."

“I don’t need to prove anything to you,” Edward says. “It’s not like I ever learnt how to dance, anyhow.”

He raises an eyebrow at Roy’s surprised blink, then throws his head back and groans, “For heaven’s sake, do you really believe that all people spend a significant amount of their childhood learning how to dance at these pompous events? I don’t know what silver spoon you were born with in your mouth, Mustang, but I had better things to do than learn the quadrille.”

Roy, in lack of anything else to say, says, “Yes, I’m sure your education was too preoccupied with other things rather than the fine arts, but you’ve spent more than eight months at the ton now, shouldn’t Hughes have made sure to have you taught by now?”

Edward just snorts, then closes his eyes again.

“Have better things to do, thanks.”

Roy remains silent at that and rises from the bench, stretching furtively before looking down at the golden crown of Edward's head.

Edward Elric inspired whispers wherever he went. Not so much for any specific action taken or honour besmirched, but rather for his entire being, his bearance and air, being eye-catching. It brought the air of scandalousness–his long hair tied behind him, his red coat and loud speech, short stature but carrying heavy steps–without there ever being any evidence of unconducted behaviour. It probably would be the cause of real concern for his guardians hadn't Edward shown a complete disregard for the attention and uproar his being naturally caused.

Always noticeable, that Mr. Elric, even when always preferring a book before hunting or riding. It wasn’t his lack of fortune that made mothers pull away their bright-eyed, eager daughters who fluttered around hoping to catch Edward’s fetching golden eye, rather it was the weary thought that surely that boy was too much, not proper, set to ruin their children’s honour…? Obsession was an unpredictable feeling, yet it was that very thing that Edward Elric, not yet twenty, inspired whenever he broke his solitude by accompanying his younger brother to social events.

Not marriageable for someone like Roy, certainly, with Edward’s dubious background. Hughes might have taken the two Elric brothers in and they might excel in their studies at university while being able to charm half the ton with their looks, but their lineage can barely be traced; orphaned and brought up in a small village by mere merchants, and while the Curtises, as it were, seems perfectly courteous in the letters they send, Edward is hardly born a gentleman.

And yet, here I am.

Roy puts his open palm in front of Edward's face, who flinches back in surprise.

Roy smiles, "Need a hand?"

Edward looks at his hand, looks up, then down again before he scoffs and accepts the assistance, only for Roy to pull him upward and forwards into his arms.

"What the-!"

"Be careful," Roy says, "I wouldn't want to accidentally step on a foot."

"Fuck you," Edward says as he tries to pull away, "I just told you, I don't know how to dance!"

"And how will you ever learn, dear Edward, if you never practice? Have in mind those who wish to dance with you, or you’ll break their hearts." Because Edward was caught by surprise, Roy manages to lead the two of them further in so they're more hidden by the thick branches above, while he simultaneously starts the steps of a Polish Waltz.

Edward stumbles on the steps. Tries to pull himself free while swearing at Roy rather excessively, in Roy's opinion.

"If you aren't quiet," Roy says, "we won't be able to match the music."

That brings Edward to a stop, and Roy can practically hear what music? before Edward catches the same thing Roy did. Either Roy left the balcony door open earlier, or someone's been out since, but the music from the ballroom can be vaguely heard from their place of hiding. The smooth sound of a violin; the whistling of a clarinet.Their [something] waltz is surely not matched by the current dancing inside, but Roy made the very rational decision the lead Edward into a dance where he has a smaller opportunity for escape.

Edward is quieter now as Roy pulls him back and forward. Roy catches himself smiling softly when Edward looks down and makes an actual attempt to match his steps to Roy's.

"Eyes up," he reminds and Edward snatches his head up to scowl at Roy.

"I'm trying, am I not?"

"That you are," Roy says, and then briefly lets go of Edward's waist to tap him on his sinking chin again and Edward quickly raises his head, "But still, don't look down."

Edward grumbles something--probably untoward--but surprisingly obeys and attempts to follow the steps while stubbornly glaring at Roy with a truly spectacular scowl.

There is something warm in the pit of Roy’s stomach, aching gently as they both move in what must be the most rudimentary dance of waltz Roy’s ever performed. 

He finds that he doesn’t mind that. Not at all.

"See?" Roy points out after they did a successful turn, and managed to not step into a well-maintained flowerbed. "You're a natural."

Edward huffs out a laugh, more of a grunt than anything, but when he tips his head back to meet Roy’s eyes the light from the estate behind them makes the gold in Edward’s eyes glow even brighter, and Roy is, for a moment, breathless.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for cooking meth with my former chemistry student, killing two people, and lying to my family about it?

I (50M) was recently diagnosed with inoperable, likely fatal lung cancer. I work at a highschool as a chemistry teacher, but both the pay and the students are terrible. Case in point, my "lab partner" (24M) - who we'll call "Cap'n" because of course he'd insist on a stupid nickname like that - not only completely flunked my class, but then went on to skip college entirely and become a meth-addicted drug dealer instead.

Understandably, I was a little shaken after receiving my diagnosis. It came as a surprise since I've never smoked, I keep myself in relatively fair health, etc. (Recently my wife has taken to vegan bacon- apparently it helps lower cholesterol, but I digress.) I haven't told my family about the situation yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to "let the cat out of the bag", not to mention I doubt my wife will take it very well.

As for deciding to try cooking methamphetamine, well. I'm not really sure how to explain it, exactly, but there's a lot of money in it, money that would benefit my family, and I don't have much to lose anymore. This may sound cliche, but it's as though I'm really awake for the first time in my life.

Cap'n and I formed a partnership by circumstance only; I found out he was in "the business" and offered to either turn him into the DEA or work with me, and he naturally took the second option. He had no idea what he was doing on the chemistry side of things - chili powder in the meth! applying heat to an Erlenmeyer flask! no wonder I flunked him, he clearly learned nothing in my class - but does know the trade.

(Note: Don't buy all of your supplies from the same store.)

Sorry, I'm getting too far into the weeds here, let me skip ahead. We purchased a trailer and drove out to somewhere in the middle of the desert to cook without added attention or need for dramatic cleanup if we had to leave the area in a hurry. Our first batch was, according to Cap'n, "pure glass." After all of that complaining, I had cooked the finest product he'd ever seen on the first try! Goes to show paying attention in school does pay off, ahem. In case any of you were reading this and thinking of skipping off to go and make highly illegal substances and risk years in prison instead of doing your homework. You all still have your entire lives ahead of you. I don't.

After making it, the next logical course of action was to sell. Cap'n said he had some connections - I mean, he is a drug dealer, I saw no reason not to trust him (I now see how little sense that makes.) - and came back with two men with guns pointed at both of us. You must understand, it was a kill or be killed situation. These are the kind of people who don't care about morals, or what's right or ethical or kind. If they'd lived... not just me, but my wife, my son, and my entire family would all be in serious, mortal danger. I had no choice.

Cap'n by this point had been knocked out cold- still alive, but entirely unhelpful with the situation at hand. I was on my own. So I offered to show the goons how I made the "glass", surely they wanted to see how it was done? And they did- I still can't believe that actually worked. But, ah, instead of actually cooking anything, I gave them... let's call it a chemistry lesson. When significant heat is applied to red phosphorus - a key ingredient in Cap'n and I's "extracurricular science project" - it oxidizes. Your result is phosgene gas, highly deadly, hence the "killing two people." One... technically isn't dead yet- somehow he managed to survive, I still don't fully understand how, but I'm... I'm working on it. Cap'n still has yet to get rid of the first body, so... technically I'm not failing to withhold my share of the cleanup, since he hasn't done so with his.

I realize now this is very long, but I wanted to explain the context for my actions. However, a tl;dr for those who might be in a hurry: I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, so with nothing else to lose decided to try to make some money for my family by cooking and selling methamphetamine. Coincidentally, a former student of mine was also in the business, and I convinced him to work with me. When we tried to put our product on the market, two people tried to kill us, so I acted in self-defense.

But I really, really must know... is what I did wrong? Should I have been content to live the rest of however-long-I-have-left working a miserable job as a public high school chemistry teacher instead? Should I have found a less fatal way of dealing with the two men who tried to kill me and my partner? AITA?

P.S. It's pretty late as I'm typing this so I might've made some errors in coherency or grammar, for which I apologize.

[episodeoftv]

Round 1 of 6, Group 1 of 4

Propaganda is under the cut (671 words) - may contain spoilers

summaries (pulled from imdb or wikis)

propaganda

Chén Qíng Lìng/The Untamed - 1.50 Episode 50

The mastermind who plans everything has appeared. He's not someone who wouldn't think he would be the one who is behind everything, including Wei Wuxian's comeback. Who would that be?

I nominate this final on grounds of CCP information control, censorship and homophobia. They were so scared of the power of wangxian that they ended up banning ao3 in china and in the show they have to inexplicably have them part ways just to hammer home the no-homo. Plus the show is just kind of objectively bad.... but it rewires your brain all the same

Supernatural - 15.20 Carry On

cw: suicide

After Chuck is defeated and someone takes his place, Sam and Dean go about their life of hunting, but things don't turn out as expected.

1) you know why 2) god. where do i fucking start. this episode completely ignores this large cast of characters that were considered family in order to make it the "just two brothers" show again, scrapping basically every shred of character development shown throughout the course of the show, cutting out incredibly important characters at the last second (i.e. eileen being replaced with blurry wife for no fucking reason, cas not being there at all despite the whole love confession/ dying for dean that happened just two episodes before). in the penultimate episode the boys fight god. the finale? a random vampire from an episode of season one, who up until this point had never been mentioned again. then we have Dean being impaled on a very phallic looking spike and, after a speech about it just being about the brothers, dies. he then goes to heaven, where his father figure tells him his abusive dad is just down the road. he hops in his car (also in heaven, somehow) and drives for the next 60 odd years waiting for Sam to die. meanwhile, sam is moving on with blurry wife and i shown with a son named dean (as seen stitched onto his clothes), and we eventually see sam, now old and clad in the crustiest looking wig i have ever seen, die in the hospital. he goes to heaven, meets Dean on a bridge, and the last shot is the entire cast and crew on the bridge saying goodbye, completely shattering the fourth wall because fuck it, who cares anymore. and this isn't even mentioning everything that happened after. just an absolute mess the whole way through. 3) Random villain from season 1 kills one of the main characters, he goes to heaven and drives around while the other main character gets a montage of growing old a horrible wig. And that's not even all. 4) It abandoned 15 years of series theme and character growth, veered away from the natural story line and failed to resolve major plot threads. Dean deserved better, and so did Cas. See also Jared's terrible wig, Dean jr, Dean driving through heaven for five minutes... 5) Dean dies in the most anticlimactic way, cheap wig, blurry wife 6) There was no Castel :( 7) I mean... 8) destroyed every character arc in one fell swoop. the guy who tried to kill himself and struggled with depression throughout the show ended up killing himself anyway! was cas’s death even important? who was blurry wife? why was the absolute ugliest toddler imaginable cast to play Sam’s son? but in order to truly grasp how decimating this finale was, you have to understand the queerbaiting between 15.18 and the finale. why did Misha post that pic in the onion field with Uriel. why was Misha originally credited to be in 19 episodes of the final season on IMDb. why was . Hrrgghh. 9) Do I even need to write propaganda for this one? Even though it was the series finale we are still here after 3 years 😂 Title said 'carry on', but the fandom said 'nah, time for season 16'. 10) Bad old man makeup and no castiel 11) Everything had been neatly wrapped up in the previous episode. Then they decided "Hey you know what would be great? If we just killed one of the main characters." They killed him for no reason. He deserved to live a full life, have a family, retire, but nope! He met his match in a RUSTY NAIL. Not to mention that there were terrible wigs, blurry wives, and subtextual incest vibes involved.

+ After it aired, one of the actors unfollowed everyone who had anything to do with the episode.