#instead of you know having some words with her children who so dearly miss her

[randomnameless]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sunandsstars]

SPIDER THE MATCHMAKER

Recom!Miles x Na’vi!Reader x Spider (Platonic)

Summary: Spider finally had enough of Quaritch’s oggling and decided to help encourage his advances towards the reader, he has a ship, and he’s determined to let it sail. Warnings: Brief mentions of abandonment/murder/existential crisis, Swearing Word count: 1.8k

It was different, being accepted into Na’vi society. He was so used to being the bad buy, the killer among men, yet now he’s just..him. After becoming a recom he felt as if he did not belong, a human mind in an aliens body is something he had to get used to. He definitely had a lot of existential crisis up until now.

The last fight he had with Jake Sully in the reefs left him severely wounded and he had to retreat back to base to seek help, his men where gone and his morale was becoming low. Luckily his son, Spider, decided to join him. His reasoning was that while the Sully’s where kind to him growing up (especially kiri who he will miss dearly) he cant ignore the fact they never went after him when he got kidnapped by the RDA, he cant ignore how Neytiri was so willing to kill him after he showed the family nothing but loyalty and he cant ignore how he felt as if he never belonged with them as human. 

So there they are, holed up in the Tawkami Clan, learning their way of life and becoming part of the people.

Surprisingly they where quick to welcome them in despite them not having a good history with men kind, Spider said they where a peaceful clan with a persistent quest for knowledge and lore keeping, they were studious and make it their mission to preserve Eywa’s ecosystem. ‘So they wanted to study me, the human turned Na’vi, how could I say no to being the centre of their learning’

Quaritch was certainly liking the attention from the people, back at base he was oggled at yes, but for different reasons. Usually the looks he received where ones of admiration for his effort in the war all those years ago, or was disgust for his newly blue tinted skin. In Greenhome it was of great wonder, oh how her yellow eyes looked into his in fascination while talking about his past planet Earth, how she spoke about the plants and the forests of Pandora with great love, how-

‘’Hey man, you good?’’

Spider waved a hand in front of his face and looked around to see what could be stealing the man’s attention, once his sights fell on the beautifal Na’vi woman picking some fruit not that far away he smirked cheekily. ‘’You know you could always go and talk to her right? She wont bite’’. Quaritch blinked and scowled, grabbing his son into a headlock and rubbing his knuckles along his head at lightning speed. Spider laughed loudly and struggled in his fathers hold, wriggling and shouting for help, and when help did come the blue mans grip became limp embarrassingly fast.

‘’And just what do you think you’re doing to him hm?’’ ___ pried the boy gently from Quaritch’s arms and placed him on the floor to run around ‘’hurting children is not something we take lightly you know’’

Well shit.

The recom felt his face flush a cute lilac shade, it spread from his nose and across his cheeks, even going to the tip of his pointed ears. How did he become so weak in the presence of a lady? The old Quaritch would have never blushed at the sight of one. But then again he isn’t the man he once was. If ___ noticed the fluster of his face she didn’t mention it, instead she grabbed the hand that was rested on his lap, intertwined their fingers and pulled him towards the fruit she was picking. 

‘’Come, I will show you how to pick yovo fruit’’ she spoke in English. Spider has been a fantastic teacher.

If the purple on his face could become any darker, it certainly has. Her hand was so warm and small…

Spider could only follow and wiggle his brows to the man discreetly. He is determined to get this ship going.

Standing at the base of the large bush ___ started to show him how to pick the berry’s, ‘’they are delicate and must be handled with care, you must not squeeze them too hard when picking’’ she picked a couple of them into her hand, threw some into the basket with the rest and gave some to both boys. Spider lifted his exopack and quickly devoured them, sliding the mask back on and chewing loudly ‘’these are good’’ he stated matter of factly with a mouthful. The outside of his lips turning purple from the pigment.

___ giggled at his antics and looked to see Quaritch’s reaction, he rolled his eyes at the boy and slowly munched on a berry. Once deemed not poisonous (he has trust issues ok) he threw the rest into his mouth. ‘’Yea, these are fucking fantastic’’ the woman could only smile in glee, happy to share more of her planet with him.

That smile..it sent his heart beating incredibly fast. He was falling in love and he knew it. How couldn’t he? When she was just so gentle and sweet with his son, when she was one of the first to help them get comfortable within the clan. He needed to invite her out, fast. He wasn’t the only one with eyes on her. He mused, eyes glancing at a small group of hunters around a fire, some of which turned their heads away quickly as they got caught.

‘’I was uh wondering’’ he coughed. This is gonna be a pain in the ass.

‘’would you like to come out with me tonight?’’ Spider swallowed the last of the fruit and blinked up at his father, smiling wide. Finally. It’s not like he’s been waiting for months.

___ blinked in surprise, not expecting this sudden offer. She wondered if he was finally asking her to be mates. Could you blame her?  A 9 ft 5’’ Na’vi warrior, recently accepted as part of the clan and was a fantastic hunter. And those muscles…

Eywa give her strength.

Her tail swished in gradual hope ‘’yes. Of course I would Miles’’ she grinned, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth in sweet shyness, the same purplish hue coating the recoms cheeks starting to spread across hers. 

Quaritch let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Fuck, why was it so hard to ask for one simple thing. Never in his life has he felt like this, not with previous hookups, not with past girlfriends and certainly not with Paz – the deceased mother of his son.

‘’alright sweetness, meet me here tonight, after eclipse’’ ___ could only swish her tail at the nickname and nodded oh so cutely. Picking up her basket she patted Spider on the head and bid them a good rest of the evening, needing to go back to her chores. 

Miles Quaritch, former human, now Na’vi, was the ultimate womaniser. He puffed his chest out and smirked to himself. He deserved a pat on the back.

Like two peas in a pod, Miles Socorro read his mind and pat his lower back (the only part the poor kid could reach)

‘’well done dad, well done’’

The sun hid behind the planet known as Polyphemus and casted darkness, but Pandora never truly sleeps.

Two blue figures where seen jumping across branches and leaping from root to root, the bioluminescent glow of the moon never ceased to fascinate the man who has never known fresh air and real plants. He looked around in awe at his surroundings and himself, lifting his hands in front of his face and taking note of all the little white dots speckled across his skin. 

___laughed joyfully and turned around ‘’Miles come’’ she beckoned him to carry on, wanting them to get to their destination as soon as possible. The recom dropped his hands and sprinted to catch up with the female, her being much more experienced with the terrain and therefore had the upper hand in their little race. 

On the way they both came across fan lizards and proceeded to disturb them, watching the light of the animal as they flew cross their faces and up into the air. Giggles sounded out throughout the forest, joyful laughs and quick inhales of breath as they finally arrived to where ___ wanted to take them. 

The tree of voices.

Both slowly crept towards the sacred space, their steps leaving glowing footprints in the grass. The tree shone beautiful pinks and purples as the hanging branches swayed ever so softly in the wind, it wasn’t the only thing that took his breath away.

There she stood, with the biggest grin on her face, eyes twinkling in the light of their surroundings and tail swinging happily. She moved to the centre of the tree ‘’this is Ultral Aymokriyä, the tree of voices’’ she whispered softly, ‘’you are a man now Miles, one of the people, you are able to hear our ancestors’’ she grabbed his hand and brought him closer to a cluster of hanging branches and connected her queue to them, inhaling as the voices of the past filled her ears.

Quaritch followed her actions and his pupils dilated at the newfound sounds, he never really believed in Eywa before, taking it up as some sort of false goddess. But this, this proves whatever he thought was wrong. ‘’They live. Within Eywa’’ the woman facing him sensed a change of air and looked up as atokirina fell slowly to land on their shoulders. She gasped and disconnected her queue, never has she thought that the great mother would bless them both tonight.

This is a sign.

Miles looked towards the atokirina and then to the love of his life and decided that she was the one for him. He walked closer to her until they where chest to chest and grabbed her face in his overly large palms ‘’___. Now that I am one of the people I am able to choose a mate’’ he felt her tense under his touch and looked straight into her eyes to look for any uncertainty ‘’you have helped me and my son in a time of need, despite us being humans, you have seen past our faults and accepted us into your arms with love’’. ___ started to tear up, not expecting this heartfelt speech.

And in such good Na’vi, thank you Spider.

‘’___.. oel ngati kameie”

The woman suddenly took his face into her own palms and connected their lips, it was soft and sweet. Both leaving them breathless and wanting more.

“Ma Miles, I see you’’

Just couple of bushes away, a little boy with blue stripes was caught lurking, watching the two blue aliens as they confessed their everlasting love. He held his breath and lifted his mask, wiping a singular tear from his eye.

His ship has finally sailed.

[troglodytepixieeater]

Tarnished Blood: Part 1

Disclaimer: want everyone to know that the future is not the canon of the series! This is my own personal headcanon of what I imagine my MC to have in the Blood Legacies (creator: @bloodlegacies). While I have read probably every piece of lore for the blog, there might be some things that are not canon in my story. If there are, then you can message me and correct me for future fanfics; however, it might not change said fanfic where I got the lore, magical properties, or anything else wrong.

Paring: Hayden x OC!Bianca

Warning: none?

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The sound of tapping brought Bianca out of her thoughts; however, she did not look at the source and instead stared at the key points that she would have to cover in the next meeting with the court about the trade routes written on a piece of parchment.

Maybe I should ask my father about this?

Bianca sighed. She missed her father dearly, and although she knew he would drop what he was doing to help her, she felt guilty bothering him with simple trade routes just for an excuse to check up on him.

He was still in Darian; however, it was really Bianca who kept her house in power and her people happy as she had come of age to rule. However, that did not mean her father just sat on his ass. No. If anything, he helped take most of the stress off her shoulders, making sure everything went smoothly. He wasn't just her commander anymore; he was her commander if the crown on her head was any indication.

It was odd having her father follow her orders and not the other way around; however, Bianca knew deep down that she would never be the one in charge when it came to the relationship with her father. She respected him too much. Maybe she should try not to rely on him too much and let him enjoy his time in his older years with that new lover of his.

What would I do without him?

That thought came with an aching feeling of grief at the thought of losing another parent; however, she scowled at herself for having such a morbid thought. Bianca knew that one day it would come when her father wouldn't be around, but she would get through it; it would be full circle as it would now be her turn to teach her own children to slowly let her go as they grew into adulthood.

Speaking of children, the tapping became so excessive that Bianca finally looked up from her notes to see her middle child tapping away at the table with her right hand, her index finger having just a hint of ice on her tip as she mulled over her notes. In her left hand sat a quill as her daughter wrote something down and then frowned before roughly scratching through the paper again.

Bianca couldn't help but have a small hidden smile as she stared at the twelve-year-old. At only twelve, her daughter, the second heir and princess of Petrus, was probably one of the smartest scholars that their kingdom has ever seen.

The way that she consumed knowledge was amazing; unlike her siblings, who saw their studies as chores or a responsibility, it seemed that her middle child enjoyed her studies. Now only if Bianca could get her daughter to pick up a sword like her oldest than would she be unstoppable.

Bianca just stared at her daughter, watching as her nose wrinkled when she got frustrated, and the tapping got louder and louder. Unable to sit still, just like her father, getting him to sit through a whole meeting, people would think you were sending him off to war at how he moped and pouted, but with a few threatening comforting words, he seemed to make it through the "torture."

Although Hayden wasn't nearly as focused as their middle child, when mentioned to him once when they were alone, Bianca remembered him saying that her nose wrinkle reminded him of his sister when she would get annoyed at him.

Bianca smiled at the thought, and she remembered thinking than that the name of her daughter was even more fitting.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Bianca finally pressed her lips together before speaking.

"Serah."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Serah did not look up from her paper, and the tapping only seemed to increase, which put Bianca on edge.

"Serah." Bianca said again, a little more bite in her tone, and she noticed that her daughter's whole finger was covered in frost.

 Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Serah Gloryann Elkar!"

The princess looked at her mother, letting Bianca get a more full view of her daughter. Serah's light blonde curls were even more messy than usual, and Hayden's eyes stared back at her in a wide-eyed state.

"What is wrong?" Bianca spoke with a calmer voice, her expression remaining cold as usual.

Serah bit her lip as she looked down at the paper again and looked back at her mother, nervousness clear on her face as she shrank back.

"N-nothing." Serah spoke quietly, in her usual timid tone.

Bianca wished now more than ever that her daughter had not gotten her quiet nature from her; however, maybe that trait would stop the rumors that Serah was not her daugher. If she heard those whispers herself she would gladly show the stretch marks along her stomach. No one questioned if Serah was Hayden's child. Everyone could see she had Elkar blood through her veins just by looking at her eyes.

"I do not like being lied to by Serah." Bianca said this with a raised eyebrow and looked at the parchment in front of her daughter. "Does it have something to do with whatever you are writing?"

Serah's cheeks turned pink. "What? No!"

Bianca's eyes narrowed, which made the girl in front of her squirm in her seat. She needed to teach her daughter to have a better poker face if she wanted to survive in court.

I will make sure to give her a lesson some time next week.

The Queen made a mental note in her head as she studied her daughter's flushed expression and dilated pupils, and it all clicked into place. There was only one person who had any kind of effect on her daughter in such a way.

"You are writing to Zemislav." It was not a question but a statement as Bianca leaned back to get an even more perfect view of Serah's wide-eyed expression once again.

"He was just asking about something." Serah fiddled with the corner of her paper.

The...infatuation was clear on Serah's face, and Bianca held herself back from killing the young preteen that seemed to wiggle his way into her daughter's heart.

The queen side of her knew it would be a great match. Zemislav...while he was nothing like his mother, Sofia, who only wanted a sweet release of sleep, it seemed that Zemislav, from what Bianca had seen, never slept and was always a ball of energy ready to go off at any moment. Poor Sofia. But still, it was a good match for both families.

The mother side of Bianca wanted to strangle the young man; her daughter was only twelve, and now Bianca had to worry about crushes. She didn't even think that her eldest had become smitten with anybody as of late; however, that wasn't surprising since her eldest would rather be left alone with a training dummy than any kind of person if it didn't have to do with achieving progress in their kingdom.

Bianca shook her head and tried not to let a scoff slip. This Zemislav was fourteen and already in the academy; what in the gods names was he doing writing to her daughter when he should be focusing on his studies? Maybe she should write to Sofia.

Worry gripped Bianca like a viper, and she had to force herself to remain stoic. Serah could make the most successful battle plans and strategies; however, it was no secret that her middle child was naive about the setting of the court and the wicked ways that would try to use a young princess for their own personal gain, especially a marriage alliance.

Serah got Bianca's own quiet nature. Yes. But instead of the cold expression that Bianca was blessed with that sent people on their way or even Hayden's mischievous smirk that kept people on their toes, it seemed her daughter was blessed with an open, friendly smile, which made Bianca often question which side of the family she got it from.

Not Serah's grandfather...that was for sure.

Bianca let go of the chair arms that she didn't even realize she had gripped, which were now covered in a thick frost. Hopefully her daughter didn't see, and from her daughter's open expression, she did not.

"What did your friend want?" Bianca said the word "friend" with distaste that Serah didn't seem to catch.

"He was asking if you were going to be announcing that Martella was going to the academy soon......everyone is curious." Serah whispered, her voice cracking a little; however, her eyes were trained on Bianca, studying her.

Smart girl.

Bianca kept the fear off her face, and her hands shook under the table. "Tell Zemislav that there will be an announcement soon."

Serah bit her lip. "Mother, rumors are spreading of Martella's elemen-."

"That. Is. Enough." Serah shivered at her mother's cold tone.

Bianca continued. "I don't want to hear another word about this." Grayish blue eyes met light teal, and a look of understanding crossed over the table.

Serah nodded, looking back down at her quill before uttering a quiet. "Yes, mother."

The sound of the doors slamming open made the two royals turn in their seats.

Masterpost | NEXT

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Note: Blood Legacies is such an amazing story, and I can't wait for another update. While we have only touched the surface of what the author has planned for the series, I just appreciate the lore and the world that the author has created.

[chaotic-starlight24]

My Dear Dahlia Chapter 1

Summary: Just a little bit of background to Dally and her daily life.

This ain't my best work and the coming chapters will be better I promise :,)

Whenever Spot is rude to Race he don't really mean it, he's just acting tough

Newsies

Word Count: 2.5k (Long I know)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse but not much else

Characters mentioned are a mixture of all the newsies (musicals and movie) They also aren't completely accurate because most of them are built of headcanons and random info

Random: I'm not sure how popular this will be but I just draw and write stuff depending on how much inspiration I have

Next|Previous

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young girl sat sobbing on her bed. The academy was worse than anything she had ever experienced. She may have lived in a poor farm in the middle of nowhere, but at least she had a family! Now she was stuck in an itchy dress in a stuffy room with a bunch of other girls she barely knew. The only thing they shared was their hatred for this dismal place. If her parents were still alive, they would have never sent her here!

Her father wasn’t very kind to her brothers, but he had shown some care for her. While her mother tried her best though she wasn’t very sane. Now her brothers are somewhere on the streets and her mother and father were 6 feet under. Dahlia wished she was working some exciting job with other kids who actually liked her! Instead here she is, getting beat for things like eating porridge the wrong way and sleeping the wrong way! One day she was going to get out of the academy. Suddenly, a guardian came in. Dahlia quickly wiped her tears so she wouldn’t get beat for crying. The woman looked at the letter in her hand and looked back up at Dahlia.

“Your aunt and uncle have sent you a letter, child.” She told her, the women's expression completely dead.

They never did have expressions. Dahlia walked towards her with her head down. Then politely grabbed it and went back to her bed. The woman left and Dahlia tore open the letter. Maybe this was her ticket out!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dear Dahlia,

I’m still terribly sorry we could not get back to New York for your birthday! Me and your uncle miss you so very dearly. But your uncle could not get away from his work, Chicago is a busy city. He is also being asked to travel farther out west to set his businesses up there as well! We hope the city is treating you well, we shall return next year! Remember to not get mixed up with the dirty children of the streets, the academy treats you well so you don’t have to be like them. Your brothers did not get that same chance, all because of your parents. So remember it is because of us you get this great opportunity! We know you miss your family farm, but we hope the city treats you well. We hope your 12th birthday is a grand day!

With love,

Your Auntie Lisa and Uncle Ralph

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dahlia, or how she liked to be called now Dally, chuckled at the letter. Then placed it under her pillow with the rest of the postcards. That was the only reason she kept the letter, for her collection. Her “so very loving” aunt and uncle had never returned for her. And it would be in vain anyways, at 16 she was living a much more exciting life. The academy may have given her a roof over her head and an education, but she was miserable there. It was basically the refuge, if the refuge had funding and a school mashed with it. Now she was going day to day, hawking papes and lighting shows. Which she much preferred. She escaped at the age of 13 and did several jobs. Working the docks and washing dishes was honest work, not what she wanted to do though. But at 14, she met the independent and strong boy, Spot Conlon. Now she was a newsie by day and a stagehand by night. And was pretty well-respected by Brooklyn newsies.

“Ey sleepin beauty! Best ya get outta bed!” A voice called, shaking her from her drowsiness. 

“I’m up, I’m up!”

Dally stretched out her arms and jumped out her bunk. Several fellow girls were standing by the door, already ready. She wondered how she had slept in! Dally quickly pulled on her shirt and high-waisted pants. One of the girls started making tick-tock noises. She tucked her wavy, dark brown hair into her cap, though messy strands were haphazardly sticking out, and out the doors she went! There Spot and a couple of the gang waved her over.

“We was worried youse weren’t eva gonna wake up!” Hotshot teased, placing his hand on her head.

Dally ruffled his hair in return and then took his hat, sprinting away as she did.

“Hey! Get ya butt back here!”

“Gotta catch me first!”

Spot sighed as the two ran off in childish glee. But didn’t stop them. Dally seemed to be able to remind people that they were still kids, which was something they definitely needed. But after a while of running, she was pulled back by the back of her shirt. She laughed expecting it to be Hotshot but instead she heard a familiar voice.

“Dahlia?”

She spun around, clenching the cap. Few called her by her given name.

“It-it’s you!” Her aunt gasped as their eyes met.

The man holding her arm must have been her uncle Ralph. Spot and the gang hung back a bit, ready to fight but letting her talk to them.

“Auntie Lisa?”

“Yes, yes it’s me.” Her aunt confirmed her eyes filled with confusion and some form of…disgust?

“When did you all come back…” Dally questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“A year or so ago, we thought you’d be at the academy! What did you do to your hair?!” Her aunt answered and reached for her cap.

Dally swatted her away, “Get away from me! You never cared where I was! You all just dumped me and left! Didn’t even try to find my brothers!”

“You’ve got scars all over you! And your hair, it’s a mess!”

Spot and the gang began to get closer.

“Dahlia! Get behind me, it’s those newsies!”

Dally rolled her eyes and stalked back over to the gang, “I’ve got a work day to get through, please leave me be!”

Her aunt and uncle sneered and took a couple steps back. Ritz looked the two up and down. The others joined in staring them down. Eventually her uncle began to walk off, but her aunt stayed. She reached out to Dally but quickly pulled back and straightened her posture.

“Nice to know you're so scared of me now that ya won’t even go near me,” Dally spat, “I don’t want to eva see youse again.”

Her aunt swallowed hard and walked back to her uncle. Dally sighed and walked ahead of the group.

Spot looked back at them and then caught up with her, “I’m sorry, but ya have brudders?!”

“Yes, haven’t seen them in forever, probably dead.” She answered with a bite.

Spot took another quick glance, “How did they even know youse was here?”

“I dunno, probably got tipped off by one of the teachers, maybe they want their money back from the time I spent…there.”

Spot let it go. He was one of the few who knew about her time at the academy. It may have not been as bad as the refuge, but it took a large mental toll on anyone who grew up there. Dally still slept perfectly uniformed, not able to sleep otherwise. The group reached the gate as the distributors opened it. That was one of the nice things about being a Brooklyn newsie, the goons wouldn’t mess with you. Dally looked up as the headline was swiped across the board.

“Trolley Strike Drags On For 3rd Week.”

Stray huffed and so did Ritz. Spot rolled his eyes. The writers needed to come up with something more creative! Maybe the newsies needed to start making the headlines. Dally still grabbed her stack of 50 papes and walked out. Then Spot stopped her.

“Youse is sellin at the sheepshead today, right?”

Dally nodded, a bit confused.

“There’s a ‘hattan newsie who keeps showin his face there, chase him off if ya can.”

“Alright, I can do that.”

The Sheepshead had some of the best foot traffic in the borough. They couldn’t have any Manhattan newsie stealing their sales! And it didn’t make it any better that the racetrack was especially full that day. She shoved her way through the crowds, shouting exaggerated titles while doing so. Also stopping a few women and talking about her dream of an education. She was making good sales! Until she reached the middle of the stands. Several men and women already had papes! And then she heard him.

“Extra Extra! Strikers beat to death! You heard it right here folks!”

Dally looked up and saw the boy. He was about her age, but his clothes made it clear he wasn’t from Brooklyn. With his hat clumsily placed on his blonde curls and buttoned shirt and vest. Most newsies from Brooklyn had a simple undershirt and suspenders. 

“Hey you! What are ya doin on Brooklyn terf?!” She yelled to him, hoisting herself onto his platform.

He glanced at her with a stupid grin, “Hey sweetheart! Just here to watch the horses and make my rent for tonight!”

“Don’t call me that.” she growled, “This isn’t ‘hattan, I suggest ya run back to Jacky before I soak ya!”

He held up his hands and stepped back… Onto the very firm floor of air. He let out a yelp and Dally quickly grabbed one of his hands before he tumbled off the back of the stands.

“Thanks, sweetie. Though moving a bit fast?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows. 

She began to loosen her grip on him and he quickly grabbed onto her waist.

“I think I’m still gonna drop ya.” 

“NO! I mean, uh…Please don’t?”

“Leave.” She demanded sternly.

He shrugged and began to walk towards the exit. Until he saw someone and swiftly turned back towards her.

“Hey, uh, Spot just walked past here, I don’t feel like gettin soaked…” He said sheepishly, “Would ya mind walking me to the bridge?”

Dally sighed but grabbed him by his shirt collar, “Fine. Let’s go.”

As they walked the crowded streets of the borough he enthusiastically rambled about the newsies in Manhattan and horses. Not that Dally was listening much. It sort of reminded her of herself before the academy. 

“Hey, I never caught ya name.” He suddenly asked.

She blew a hair out of her face, “Dally.”

“Nice ta meet ya! Name’s Racetrack!”

“Racetrack? Where’d ya get that name?”

“I’m really fast, and my whole thing with horse races.”

Dally nodded her head and kept on walking. She didn’t want him to turn the conversation to be about her. But it seemed her luck was down that day.

“So how’d you become a newsie? We don’t got many girls in Manhattan.”

“Escaped from the academy, worked a couple of jobs and then met Spot.”

“Huh, say youse is not a native New Yorker are ya?”

That made Dally stop and turn to look at him, “Um, yeah no I’m not. How could ya tell?”

He chuckled, “Well the fact youse said “yeah no” confirms that. Ya have an accent!”

“Says the New Yorker… I spent my childhood in Ohio, on a farm.”

“Youse a funny girl, ya know the Delanceys have a similar accent!”

Dally made a sound of acknowledgement. She was more surprised she had grown comfortable enough to drop her fake accent.

“Ah no, Spot Conlon is right over there!” Race squeaked, his eyes widening.

Dally looked over and sure enough he was. Spot was selling papes to a nicer gentleman and hadn’t noticed them yet. 

“If we just tell him I’m escorting ya he won’t give us no trouble!”

“I guess youse is right… But he’s still a little intimidating…”

“And where did ya learn that big word?” 

Race got ready to shoot back but Spot had finally turned their way. And he didn’t look happy.

“So what are ya doin up here, Dally?” Spot smiled, crossing his arms with feigned politeness.

“Just takin that ‘Hattan newsie you warned me about back to his terf.”

Race took his cigar out of his mouth with a dopey grin, “Wow Spot! Cared enough to warn her about me!”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, “I think I can take him from here, Dals. He’s caused ya enough trouble.”

Race’s face dropped. Dally understood why, Spot wasn’t exactly in a joyful mood right now. But Race quickly went back to his happy self.

“A personal escort, Spot? You must be in love!” 

Spot stalked forward a couple feet to wait for Race, who turned back to Dally.

“Thank ya, miss. It’s been a grand time with ya!” He winked and tipped his hat. 

Then he joined with Spot who started lecturing him. Dally was just happy she could be rid of him and get back to selling. But something about him stuck with her for the rest of the day. Not exactly in a lovey dovey sense, but man did Race have blue eyes! Something must have seemed off cause Hotshot started laughing at her while they were playing poker at the lodging house.

“Penny for ya thoughts?”

“Show me the penny and we’ll see.”

He rolled his eyes, “I heard ya met the ‘Hattan newsie at the track today~”

“Yeah, his name is Racetrack and he kept flirtin with me while I was takin him to the bridge. He’s charming, but he probably does that to everyone he meets.” 

“Gasp! The stone-cold Dally has admitted someone to be…Charming?!” Hotshot put a hand over his mouth.

“She finds who what?” Spot asked, sticking his head through the door.

“Spot! How long did it take ya to get him to the bridge?” Dally inquired.

“A couple hours, Race likes to talk so Ise ended up standing at the bridge for another hour before he left!”

Hotshot placed his hands under his chin, “Dear Dally just admitted to him being charmin!”

Dally placed her reddening face in her hands as Hotshot giggled like a small child.

“Ise didn’t mean it like that! I’m just sayin, he has…um…”

Hotshot snickered, “And now she’s at a loss for words!”

Spot gave her a look of disapproval and pulled out a chair.

“I’ve gotta say though, he has stamina.” Spot conceded, “It’s a 18 mile hike from the bridge to the races. And without the trolley workers…”

Hotshot and Dally mumbled sounds of agreement and once again focused hard on the game. The two revealed their hands, Dally flashing a royal flush.

“Guess I win!.” 

Hotshot threw his cards to the ground, “I’m neva playin with youse again!”

“And what’s the reason for the sudden tantrum?”

“I can neva read ya!”

Dally made a dramatic evil laugh and placed the cards together. Hotshot huffed and grabbed his off the ground.

“Ise is going to bed guys, try an get a early start.” Spot yawned.

Hotshot flopped face first on the table with a sigh, “mmkay…”

Dally shook her head with a smile, no one would ever think the Brooklyn newsies would be some of the most dramatic. Yet here they were. 

“I think I’m too tired to think straight…” Hotshot mused.

“Go on to bed then! It’s best if I sleep now too.”

Hotshot mhmmed and stumbled down the hallway. Dally climbed out of the window and made her way up the fire escape. This was the only somewhat peaceful place in Brooklyn. But she didn’t come out there to look at the stars, something about watching the nightlife was more soothing. She dozed off to the quiet hummm of the streets.

[lencra]

lenora's patience was wearing thin with this subject. she made a single mistake, an innocent one, and people would never stop hounding her while the queen opposite her could seemingly insult everyone, calling one ruler a brat and another a whore, and probably never have to pay for it. she missed being able to blend into the background, to be nothing more than lady lenora lefford again. but she was not that woman any more. “do not pretend you refrained from reacting how you wanted for my sake.” no one had gone easy on her, and she was not going to accept anyone acting as if they had. the tavern princess. once she figured out who was behind that particular moniker, she planned to make them pay dearly. “if you gave power to the lie about it being an intentional meeting, you would have made it into something other than the chance encounter it was, and it would have reflected badly on your high commander as well.” lenora was no fool. she understood that these kinds of situations were always worse for the women, but that did not mean that percival would have escaped without a blemish on his reputation. surely ravella had no interest in that. “which would be ridiculous for everyone involved when my only mistake was taking shelter from the rain in an inn with my company, nothing more.”

she wondered if ravella's sole goal was to rile her up, so she took a deep breath and spoke calmly. “no, the exact opposite, your grace. i am asking if you think it wise to base our alliance on something beyond the borders of our realm? should the cities in essos be given such influence over an alliance that i see as far above it?” hazel eyes observed the reaction of the other to her words. would ravella be willing to stake an alliance on lys, on braavos? “you are the one giving ultimatums based on alliances outside westeros, outside the one that exists between our kingdoms, and you are the one threatening to withdraw your support.” once again, she wanted to point out that the queen of the vale was speaking to the wrong person. lenora accepted she would have to support jaehaerys, to clean up some of his messes, but she would not take responsibility for an alliance she had no hand in whatsoever. lys was entirely her husband's doing. “i have no control of whether we break off ties to lys or not, which you know perfectly well. this conversation should be between you and my husband, as i've already offered to arrange. but since you've refused that, i will tell his grace of your demands instead, and there is no answer i can give you until i have done so.” she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from offering a scathing reply to the comment about not enjoying the conversation. “i believe that i have been more than gracious despite your many insults.”

ravella mentioned the union of their children, and lenora then saw an opportunity to remind the raven-haired queen that she also got something out of being allied to new valyria. “i will remind you that you have most to gain from that union, which is not yet set in stone.” it was a bargaining chip to be used. “for you, it will be the difference between having two children as monarchs, and an alliance to a powerful kingdom, the one most strategic for the vale, or only having one child who will wear your crown.” once again, lenora was grateful for having been successful in birthing both an heir and a spare for jaehaerys. katherine's words about how every queen who needed to birth an heir would envy her for having twin sons rang in her mind. “aegor could marry any lady or princess, and make her a queen, while your daughter is dependent on my son to become one. only if you should have a son, of course, otherwise she might be forced to become queen in her own right.” it was meant to be a slight dig, she would not deny it. but she knew it was childish. the fact she had conceived three sons in a year had not been her doing. as far as she knew, it was all just chance. a lucky roll of the dice.

“i have no doubts princess avalon will make a formidable queen consort for aegor. and we want to grant her such power, but there is only so much you can demand of us if that is to be the case. we are allies, your grace, not your vassal.”

♟

"the same respect you showed the king of the crownlands, stormlands and the stepstones when you ran to the presence of my high commander in an inn of full knights?" it appeared as though there had been some offence taken, somewhere within this conversation. it could hardly be a surprise for a woman as soft as the one sat across from her; finding some personal slight or insult to words that were hardline, and nonchalant.

"i'd expect some gratitude for the way i refused to fan the flames of your husband's ego and make it into more of a matter. instead you offer me a lecture i care little for, and hypotheticals."

the sight of her mother within the halls of the eyrie to visit her niece was one no valeman or woman took kindly to - and it was not long before it was decreed she would not be able to return. "save your parenting for your children and your children alone, lenora lefford. your crown is shared, and can be stretched up the heads of three different women."

because now, there had been offence taken. she half looked at her, in amusement, and in utter contempt and judgement. "are you implying your alliance with the free city of lys is more beneficial to maintain than the one with your neighbouring realm?" her hands rested on the sides of the chair, a slight smile crossing over her features now. this was dangerous.

"jaehaerys targaryen has our support, and the cloaks or quills of valemen do not come near dragonstone. for that, i tell you clearly - we expect your full loyalty."

her gaze remained fixed upon the beautiful features of lenora, and she wondered how long it would be before queendom made her aged. wrinkled. exhausted looking. her tone was laced with feigned disappointment as she looked up and down, letting out a soft sigh as she rose to her feet. there was the sound of a crow cawing beyond the open window, as the skies became darker. "i did not enjoy this conversation - but you would rather me on your side, than supporting something or someone else."

there was a slight smile. "after all, it is looking like your son is to take my daughter as his queen, is he not?'

[letsasoiaftogether]

IMAGINE...being the younger, twin sister to Stannis Baratheon and being married to Ned Stark after the death of Catelyn (Tully) on the demand wishes of your eldest brother, King Robert.

Word Count: 1,472

Warning: None??? Slight...messy writing???

A/n: I dont know if this was a request but there was quite a bit discussion over it so I made it into one! Soo Baratheon!Reader x Ned Stark, enjoy!

(Gif not mine)

When Robert first announced your marriage, you had laughed in his face and walked off.

After all, he was always boasting about allying further with the North and marrying you off to this Lord or the next. More than once you had been told by Lord Arryn how your Kingly brother had been in talks with Lord Jon Umber and some Manderly or two. And so you had thought this one no different (but maybe a little too insensitive giving that the Lord’s Lady Wife had only just passed from childbed fever).

But then Robert continued to talk about it for half a year, each time Lord Arryn looked more and more uncomfortable.

Still, it wasn’t until you were in the carriage with your son – your baseborn son who was nearing his tenth name day – that reality set in.

At the next inn, when the progression stopped, you spent hours screaming at your eldest brother while your twin, Stannis, and younger brother, Renly, watched from the sidelines – both clearly concerned over the safety of the inn if yours and Robert’s tempers got any worse.

Afterwards, you took a vow of silence and spoke only to your son and Stannis for the rest of the journey.

You were grateful Lord Arryn had remained in the capital for surely he would have made you feel guilty for snapping at Robert for his selfish, stupid decision.

Your arrival to Winterfell was awful.

While you understood Lord Stark wanting to greet his King and best friend with respect and a grand expression of fealty, you didn’t appreciate being a part of that.

With a half-forced smile, you let Robert drag you from the carriage – throwing an annoyed look toward Cersei, who you were pretty neutral toward (the Queen gave you an eye roll in return, also at her husband’s actions), as you went.

You were brought before Eddard Stark wearing a gown of black and yellow and a half smile.

The man was only seven months a widow and if the bags under his eyes were any indication, he was still in the grieving process.

He bowed and kissed your hand as was expected of you, and then the two of you shared a soft sigh and you greeted him with a hug and your deepest apologies for his loss.

You had known him for years, since he and Robert fostered together in the Eyrie. You weren’t best friends like, he and Robert, but you had always been pleasant toward one another whenever you met.

“Y/n,” he greeted softly once the two of you had pulled apart, “You look well,”

“Thank you, Lord Eddard.” You didn’t say it in return. He didn’t look well. He was a sad man grieving for a wife whom – by all accounts – he had truly come to care deeply for in the thirteen years they had been married. Instead, you just whispered, “I am sorry if this is being forced upon you.” You left off the “like its being forced upon me.”

He just smiled tensely.

*

If it had been a simple visit, it would have been a very nice one.

You met the children once everyone had moved inside, while your brother and future husband went to the crypts to pay respects to the memory of Lyanna Stark. All the Stark children were polite, even Theon Greyjoy was on his best behavior, and it was Robb who sent for the baby so you could meet the youngest member of their House.

Rickon was healthy and a babe of only seven months old, he slept for the most part.

Brandon was only five and had a million questions for your guards about being knights.

Arya was six and reminded you of stories about her aunt, just from how wild and unladylike she appeared as she argued with her sister and joined in with Brandon about knighthoods.

Sansa was a sweet child of nine and clearly missed her mother dearly as she shyly asked you questions about your dress and jewelry and mentioned soft things about her own mother’s hair and what her style of clothing had been.

Robb was the heir at twelve and was caught in between being the perfect son and the oldest while still being a boy. He was respectful with his questions and did his best to keep his younger siblings in line.

Jon Snow (also twelve) was quiet, much quieter than you were comfortable with especially in comparison to his siblings and Theon (a boy of 16 with a smug smirk always present on his face). It was nice to see him interact with Y/S/N, though, and the two really seemed to bond (especially after your son told Jon he, too, was a bastard).

After meeting them and talking to them for a few hours, you were shown to your chambers to get ready for the feast.

It felt like when you would travel to the Vale of Arryn to visit Robert, and you found yourself smiling and laughing despite your hesitations in becoming the second Lady Stark to Eddard.

“The children seem to have taken a liking to you already, I am grateful for that.” Eddard was saying as the two of you stepped out of the great keep some hours later.

“They are absolute darlings.” You remarked, your gaze on the star filled sky “You and Lady Catelyn have done a wonderful job with them, My Lord.”

A soft sigh slipped from his lips, “Thank you, My Lady.”

As the two of you continued on your way to the guest keep, where the entirety of the royal party was being housed, the two of you walked in a comfortable silence. A silence that would become very familiar in the years to come but in a very comfortable way, eventually.

Eddard was a quiet sort of man even in his youth, and you didn’t wish to pester him with idle talk. He had always reminded you of Stannis in that regard – minus the jaw clenching, of course.

“I…I am grateful, Y/n.” Eddard whispered as he took your hand, stopping you from disappearing into the guest keep. He waited for you to turn to him before continuing, “I had some fear that Robert would try to marry me off to some Lannister woman. You know of my…disagreement with Lord Tywin and his House.”

Who doesn’t, Lord Stark?

“Anyhow,” Eddard cleared his throat and continued, “I cannot make any promises of some great love. I…I have loved already and lost, many times over, but I can be a friend to you, a confidant as you may need me to be.”

His voice was sad but strong. Was it his honor that made him say these words? Or did he see you as much a hostage in this situation as he was?

It was like finding common ground with a stranger.

Because no matter how much I knew him thirteen years ago, he has changed. As have I.

“I would like to be friends, Eddard. Very much.” Leaning up, you placed a quick kiss to his cheek and then turned and slipped into the keep.

*

You were wed to Eddard Stark two days later in front of the weirwood tree in Winterfell’s godswood. Silent vows were spoken, and the Stark cloak was wrapped around your shoulders.

Soft smiles were shared between the two of you and you held hands as you led the way back to the Great Keep.

You were nervous to be the Lady of Winterfell and you prayed to the old gods and the new that you would do a good job at it, but you weren’t nervous or angry any longer to be wedded to Eddard.

His honor was legendary, how he was as a friend was just as well known, and you had heard plenty of how he had been as a husband to know that you were safe and would be well looked after.

“Lady Stark!” Robert had laughed a hundred times already, but this time he laughed it as he pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheeks, “My sister!” his hug was tight but it was Robert and you were used to it.

He smelt like wine already and by the way he was eyeing the serving girl you knew he would disappear someone soon enough for some…conversation. It made you fear for him and the future of his reign without you in the capital to be an extra pair of eyes watching over him.

But as you turned your head to look at Eddard, seated at the high table with baby Rickon in his arms and whispering to Maester Lewyn with a gentle smile on his lips, you were able to distract yourself for the time being.

It was poor timing, but maybe not a terrible match…

[henqtic]

"I saw mummy kissing Santa Claus!" With James Potter please? 👀

THIS IS REALLY SERIOUS 

— pairing: james potter x black!reader

— word count: 1.1k ( 1198 — i have no idea ) . authors note: this was so fun to write :)

— summary: in which alena catches her mummy kissing someone who very obviously wasn't her father.

— masterlist .  taglist form . request works .

a content smile overcame your face, covered in specks of flour as you pushed the fifth pan of cookies into the over. neither you or your husband were able to live with their disappointment when your kids found out that the baked goods were only made as treats for the man who would be coming down the chimney later that night to deliver presents, santa.

but seeing as james was a terrible cooker through and out, ruining the first few batters by constantly substituting the sugar for salt, scrunched faces and spats into the garbage coming from harry, zamora, and alena who had all collectively decided to split a cookie from each batch to test for quality. the end result being their father kicked out from the kitchen altogether.

so now, as he was dressed head to toe in a fluffy red and white costume to mimic the one responsible for most christmas cheer, you decided to go on and make some more on your own to spoil them in the morning as a small apology as he placed the rest of the presents under the tree which would be marked as ‘from santa’ instead of mummy and daddy.  

you had to give it to him, his idea of dressing up as santa clause in the case that when you were both placing the rest of the gifts on top of the fake snow from the muggle store on the night before christmas day, and one of your children somehow woke with the huge glasses of warm milk mixed with cocoa they drank themselves to sleep with, you could let yourself off with the excuse of helping him out a little since he had so many more houses to get to. 

it was mostly to now ruin it for the youngest living in the house who had believed in his existence in the most heart warningly way possible. 

ah, but you had forgotten just who you had loved so dearly to start a life with so many years ago and how absolutely unbearable he could be. 

“honey, c’mere already, i know it doesn't take that long !” 

that was his fourth call in the same tone of voice, and it was known to all who heard it that he could only be up to some form of mischief. but you felt bad leaving him hanging in there, probably having a hard time breathing in the heavy suit. so you could only roll you eyes and shake your head to hide the small smirk on your face and make your way from the extravagant kitchen and to the living room decorated in just the same manner where he sat on the couch.

you both admired his setup, the string of lights on the fake tree being barely visible from how neither of you had any self control when it came to their happiness, looking at it proudly knowing the amount of excitement it would ignite in the three children asleep now in their rooms, especially little alena’s as this was the first one she would probably remember, turning five only a few months ago.

looking away, you were met with his eyes now dripping in the look of ‘i'm going to something that's gonna annoy you,’ that had been there for as long as you knew him, nothing less of an unamused frown coming over your face as you allowed him to grab hold of your lower thigh with one firm hand and pull you into him with the free arm resting on your waist.

“oh don’t look so down, i’m giving you one last chance to kiss me in this incredibly sweaty but mindblowingly sexy costume — don’t you just find my white beard and mustache so attractive ?”

your face scrunched up in a grimace at his misaligned words, head tilting and a small shriek coming out as eyebrows wiggled and lips puckered to meet yours, the scratchy fake hair decorating his face not being a thing you wanted to touch yours. 

both of you missed the small steps of the little girl who had jumped at the smell of melting chocolate chips due to you forgetting to cast the spell that would keep all of the fragrances to the room which they were made in. 

all things becoming mere afterthoughts as you and james continued laughing at his poorly failed tries, pushing him away and giving false hope as you dodged him again. 

they were laughs that would usually overjoy alena’s little spirits, but as she moved to get a closer look at her parents, the wide grin that was once present fell, ducking down to be hidden and look in between the spaces in the rails instead.  

she was witnessing her mommy act the same way she did with daddy but with . . . santa clause ?”

“maybe that's the reason why the mommy made sure to tell us not to brag about the extra presents this year, because santa decided to ‘be more gracious’ . . . was it because it was all in an exchange for kisses?” 

she thought laughably, covering her mouth in surprise as you finally gave in and allowed him to overcome you, pulling you down into him by the fabric of your pajama shirt for a much needed kiss that lasted far too long to be a friendly greeting. 

her little legs took her all the way upstairs where she made the plan to wake her older siblings to tell them the news, both of whom already knew of their parents’ plans seeing as they were getting to the point where things like santa clause seemed less real than the actual magic they studied at hogwarts and there was also the fact they heard them talking about it two weeks ago. 

she still made way of dragging the thirteen year old girl out of her bed, all the way to her brother’s room which was across the house so that they could hear it all at the same time through their exhausted and drowsy demeanors.

“harry, zamora, this is really serious !” she exclaimed at the two, huffing as harry made a move to cut the lamp off that had rudely awakened him less than two minutes ago, coming to no avail as the frantic girl stepped in front of it.

“what's serious is the fact that you made my hair wrap fall off in one of the halls and we have dinner with extended family tomorrow, i'm not going looking like a troll,” zamora sighed in annoyance, not much excited to have her hair straighten for the event anymore after having to endure a flat iron clipping at the tips of her ears at eleven in the morning. 

and the thought of having to go through it again didn't appeal much either, giving up as she pushed the boy slightly to make way to lay at the foot of his bed.

“just come sleep here alena, there’s space in the middle of us. we can talk about your dream or whatever the morning,” harry insisted, letting his eyelids drop and mouth open to snore once again. 

“this wasn't a dream ‘or whatever,’ i saw mommy kissing santa claus !”

⛄️— !! @harmqnia @eunoniaa @ambi-doo12 @ang9lic @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines @willowmores @arcaneslut @slutfordracoluciusmalfoy @axgelre @pottertherotter @beforeoursunsets @selenesheart @o-rion-sta-r @alexavolturisblog @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @myalupinblack @l0vely-lupin @ameliasbitvh @mauvea @cupids-crystals @wlfstxr @enchqnting @alanniys @angellxea @moonysimpp @amourslover @remmyywolf @siriusbarnesslut @yiamalfoy @mrs-brekker15 @darklingbrekksov @lieswithoutfairytales @jemimah-b99 @bookfrog242 @nehireerdogan @alluringlywhimsical @urskaa @i-love-scott-mccall @wolfstar-lb @velvetcloxds @ohnoitsmekc @candiedfruits @joyfullymulti @meetmyblondemuffins @havenchy @pinkcloxds @impulse-anchor @wrongilbert @iwannafeelallthatloveandemotion @magicchai @silverose365 @wrathspoet 

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[sirensmojo]

"Big Bank!" - Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff, Old Money love story vibes.

Summary: Tommy decided to let his wife take care of his Gin. He comes to taste it for the first time after the Gin was met with great success.

A/N: We stand for a caring & trusting Thomas, sorry not sorry.

*Masterlist*

It was a windy day when Tommy entrusted you with his Gin distillery.

The sun was out, as your children were running around the garden, their giggling easing his mind. His head dropped backward on the garden chair as fingers of one of his hands were fidgeting with his cup or whiskey, as a cigarette was locked in between his lips.

Spring was early this year, much to your family’s pleasure. Spending time outside was something you loved to do, and knowing Tommy’s busy agenda, you made sure to make every family moment the best one.

No need to say time flew so fast, the days becoming months, becoming years.

Tommy and you was an evidence. From the day you bumped into each other in the London’s library his sister Ada used to work, you were inseparable. Thus you didn’t know each other for very long, but everything between you made this fact questionable.

You were acting as if you knew each other since children, a single look and you understood what the other thought. Not too many words were said, but not too many words were needed.

Although you weren’t Tommy’s first wife, you were “the perfect two”, making all the people you knew jealous and envious.

“My love,” you announced your presence when coming closer to the garden table as your husband was eyes closed. “I did some thinking.” You added, catching his attention.

Tommy straightened back his head and he was now facing you as you seated in front of him, glimpsing from afar of your three little boys.

“You know I don’t like your whiskey or any type of alcohol, truly.” You raised your brows, and he puffed on his cig, waiting for you to continue. “I want to make Shelby’s Gin.” You let out outright.

No need to turn around your wish, by the way he shifted position you already knew he was ready to hear anything, and you didn’t want to disturb him from his peace. You knew how he dearly appreciated those little moments in which he didn’t have to think about running a business or dealing with dirty gangsters and rude people.

“You want to do what?” He raised a brow not too sure he heard you well, but when he caught eyes of your lips curling at the corner of your mouth, he knew he had heard it well.

His family was his haven of peace and you would do anything to take off some weight off your Shelby’s shoulders. it was a regular task, a daily basis habit that you quickly took and that you’ll probably never lose.

“I already tried a mixture.” His deep voice accentuating your smile.

“It’s my turn now, you played enough with that, you need to focus on real business now. Put your mind elsewhere and let me fill my bottles.”

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what changed precisely, but you noticed a shifting in your husband’s expression along with the gleam animating his iris.

You thought it was worry.

You lost your father a few months ago due to lung disease and your mother died long ago when you were the age of your own children, and as an only child, you were now all alone without your parents.

Gracefully you had Tommy and the kids because if you hadn’t you didn’t know how you would’ve handled this loss.

As being a sensible cord, your husband didn’t bring it up, and he wasn’t the type of comforting people with words anyway, but he tried it his way, which means he bought you a ridiculous amount of new jewellery and books because he knew how much you liked to read and how you were a simp for big diamonds.

Incidentally, Tommy always found it funny how much time you spend with your nose in books while having a voracious appetite for jewellery. He would never miss an occasion to make fun of you when catching you reading as you had to wear glasses, and it was all funny and stuff till he too, had to wear glasses to read.

Now, in bed, you looked like two old people, instead, you were reading adventure and dramatic novels whereas he was stuck with political subjects.

“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate a single moment which made you smile.

“Okay?” you repeated, your smile growing as seconds passed. He straightened back, leaning over the table to you and his hands reached for yours.

You intertwined your fingers together with ease, sparkles spreading at the tips of each of it.

It was that way with every of his touches. He just had that power over you, which you were proud of as it was just love. It could never be anything else.

His deep blue eyes were anchored into your Y/C/E’s ones and you knew he was trying to bring you comfort. He knew what it felt like to lose people, and was ready to give you whatever if that meant to ease your pain.

You neared your faces and he ran his thumb over the end of your nose, down to your lips as cupping your cheek with his palm. Tommy’s head was slightly tilted to the side, his only purpose being to reach your soul with either his touch or his soul hidden behind his iris.

You leaned your head into his touch and closed your eyes for a second, enjoying that moment between the two of you as the breeze made its way to your neck under your mane.

Now, nearly five weeks later, all Birmingham was only speaking of the Shelby family as the people making “the good priced good gin” according to what you heard in the streets. From the fancy restaurant to the underground pubs, everyone in town had tasted of that oh so liked liquor.

Tommy first heard how good the gin was by his brother Arthur. He, who liked to get drunk all day long and all night long, was always keeping a bottle of it in his car or even on himself.

Then it was Ada, always offering him a drink of it whenever he would visit her.

(...)

It was 4 in the afternoon when Tommy walked through Charlie’s yard to join the Gin factory, when opening the door he was surprised to see you, seated at the old dusty desk filling paper and sipping on several cups.

Your husband frowned, “Y/N?”. He didn’t know if he should be worried or glad to see you working in such a place while drinking a lot knowing you’re not even a drinker in the first place.

You lifted your gaze to him and a huge smile instantly warmed up the atmosphere in the space, “Tommy!” You exclaimed as you got up. Being a bit dizzy you were strongly holding onto the table while getting up but you wanted to join him, and that’s when Tommy noticed your reddened cheek and little eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, concerned. His expression shifted. He seemed a bit worried as he took one of your wrists to help you walk correctly.

You waved your free hand before you as to blow away his remark, “I was trying a new mixture for the Gin.” You informed him. You slid a hand into his rough one and stepped backwards, to the desk. “Here, choose one and tell me.” You proudly pointed to each of the cups. “This one on the left is spicy, the middle one a little too sweet for the Americans, this one to the right is the version that is out, and the last one is a bit strong. If the sadness hit too much.”

“The sadness?” Tommy asked while grabbing the third cup, being the gin that was already out. He was quite startled by how implicated his wife seemed to be, he didn’t actually think she would invest that much time and energy in this activity, but he was relieved she found a reason to get up every morning other than their beautiful family.

He knew how living a life without having or serving a purpose was meaningless and boring, even more, when being saddened by something you can’t control such as the death of a loved one.

The Shelby brother will sleep better now, knowing his other half found purpose somewhere, even if seeing her drunk was a sight he could never get used to…

At this moment, he felt the need to feel her skin under his touch before doing anything else, and that’s what he did, putting his hand at the end of her back, he pulled her closer, his thumb rubbing her skin over the fabric of her dress.

Tommy then drank from the cup and took his time judging the taste of it.

He opened his eyes and dropped the cup on the desk before turning to his wife, she was looking at him, impatience spreading all over her face. She seemed ready to hear Tommy’s opinion on her Gin... On their gin.

The blue-eyed man grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to Y/N’s. She closed her eyes a couple of seconds before opening them to a staring Tommy. He was fondling her cheeks with his thumbs before exhaling deeply, “I now understand why everyone’s talking about us, Shelbys, being fucking genius’, eh” He got distracted by her lips.

“This,” he pointed to the bottle standing at the corner of the table, and, once again, Tommy got distracted, he noticed words were present on the bottle down the name. “Distilled for the eradication of incurable sadness.” He read out loud.

A faint smile was found on his face before he agitated the bottle in his hand. He was proud.

He put down the bottle and directly sealed his lips to Y/N’s, the calling for love being too loud to resist.

That was exactly why it was her and no one else, she was always unpredictable and versatile. Who would have thought his bibliophile wife could be a real gem in the making of gin?

She put away, gasping for air before looking him in the eyes, “What? Did I never tell you the fact that my grandpa was making alcohol?” She teased his lips by speaking inches away from them, “I know one or two tricks. That’s why it’s selling well.” She concluded before pressing their lips together eagerly.

“This is a big bank, yea” He succeeded at saying in between two kisses.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

The Prince and the Knight

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: The story of the knight and his quest for his prince. Warnings: Viktor's deadname and she/her pronouns are used for the beginning part of the story until he comes out Word Count: 1,760 Ship(s): Five Hargreeves/Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: This is completely unedited and I have not read through it before I posted so if there are any typos of inconsistencies that's why. This is a type of writing that I have only ever tried once before so an assignment and I wasn't able to do it very well back then so I don't know if this is any better than that, haha. I hope that you all enjoy! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Once upon a time, there lived a very wealthy and powerful king. This kind had a wife, one who was very beautiful and very talented. She bore him two children, whom they cherished very dearly. 

The children were the gems of King Reginald’s kingdom, loved and adored by their people as they were raised to take over their father’s throne when he passed or relinquished the power to the sharper minds of whichever of his children he chose. 

The younger, meeker of the twins, Princess Vanya, was just as reclusive as her mother had been. It was said that she had also inherited her mother’s talents of music. The older twin was known to make appearances at the local taverns around the castle city, talking with the citizens of the country and fueling the economy by clearing out most of their cellars with his profuse drinking.

One day, Princess Vanya disappeared from the kingdom entirely.

No one was quite sure where she went, just that she was no longer there. She had always been reclusive, confiding only in her brother and Prince Klaus’ childhood best friend. She was unable to form that kind of bond with any of the children that she had been tutored with despite the ladies of the court forcing their children into her circles whenever possible. The closest that she got was Marcus, but when questioned he had no idea where she had gone either.

Queen Abigail became so upset about the disappearance of her beloved child, the one that she had helped nurture and develop while her husband focused primarily on Prince Klaus, that she passed away.

The entire kingdom was devastated, launched into a deep seated mourning both for the disappearance of their princess and the death of their queen.

In an effort to bring what remained of his family together, King Reginald called all willing and capable knights to report for duty. Once they had arrived, he informed them all of their quest: They were to set out across the lands- both friendly and hostile- in search of the missing princess. As soon as she was found, she was to be returned home to the waiting arms of her father. The knights were promised the chance to win the princess’ hand if she were so inclined to accept a proposal from them.

Many months of fruitless searching followed after the declaration from the king. The knights spread out across the lands and each of them returned home with their heads held low and their horse carrying one instead of the two they had been hoping for. Some of the knights did not return at all, instead making their own journey to the Undying Lands where the Queen now rested.

The King was growing restless, desperate to find his daughter and make sure that his children were still safe under his careful eye. He was running out of options, having exhausted all of the knights that had the ability to answer his summons and even reaching out to some of the other royals scattered across the lands in other kingdoms.

However, one knight had yet to answer the call. Sir Five, one of the most handsome, fearsome, and valiant warriors that the land had ever seen, was off on another quest for Madame Handler, a rival monarch to the king of the land that he hailed from, when King Reginald had issued his proclamation. As soon as Sir Five returned and his most loyal servants informed him of the chance to take on yet another heroic quest, he set out on his journey to the court of King Reginald.

Sir Five was given the same instructions as the other had been, though the king was fully expecting to lose his greatest knight on the fruitless quest to get his daughter back.

Unlike the other knights, Sir Five was intelligent about how he set off on the quest. The first thing that he did was pay a visit to the princess’ brother, Prince Klaus. He approached the young prince and asked, “Where has your sister gone?”

“I know not of any sister of mine,” the prince replied dismissively.

“I wish not to return her to your father, but to have the honor of saying that I have located her,” Sir Five replied, and he was speaking the truth. He had no interest in returning the princess to the control of the king, he only wished to do what others had not been able to do before him. 

“I still know nothing of a sister of mine,” the prince replied sourly. “I only have a brother.”

Sir Five had been given information that none other had before as the prince was able to see into the knight’s soul, to tell that he was honest in his reasoning for wanting to find the missing royal.

He set out on his journey with the information that the prince had given him, stopping to question several more people that the missing twin had been close with before his disappearance. Sir Five was able to collect enough knowledge from these people alone to know where the younger of the two princes had gone.

He braved the perilous lands, fighting the ogres that challenged him to battle and freeing several spirits and fae that had been captured by the other knights who had gotten this far. They repaid him by helping him along in his quest just as the people of the kingdom had done before, guiding him closer and closer to the missing prince.

It had only taken Sir Five a fortnight by the time that he stumbled across the little cottage that he had been directed to by being after being. It was idyllic, something that the peasants of every country dreamed of having to retire in after their wearing lives. 

The cottage itself was only big enough to hold one or two people comfortably, very obviously not built with children or relatives in mind. There was a quaint vegetable garden pushed up against the northernmost side so that the plants would be able to soak up as much of the radiant sunlight as they could during the daytime hours. There was also a small gathering of fruit trees, so tall that the sheep underneath them couldn’t nibble at the already budding fruits. 

Sir Five approached the home, hoping that he would be sent on the last leg of his journey by whoever resided there, just as he caught sight of the man tending to the garden. The man sprang to his feet, his eyes wide and his stance defensive. “How did you find me?”

“I followed the way that the people of the kingdom gave me. Have you not received the other knights that have been sent this way?” Sir Five asked carefully.

“I have not,” the man replied indignantly. “No one else has been able to make it this far. They have been stopped. I wasn’t meant to be found.”

“Are you the missing prince?” Five asked. Not only was he one of the most sought after knights because of his fighting ability and his regal beauty (something that attracted many noblemen and women alike), but he was also fiercely intelligent. 

“I might be. What is it to you?” the man asked.

“I simply wanted to say that I found you. Do not worry, I have no intention of returning you to your father,” Sir Five reassured quickly.

The prince, who had yet to give his newly chosen name, relaxed upon hearing the reassurance from the knight. “I am glad for that. I do not wish to ever go home. I am happy here.”

“How did you come across such a place? Surely you would have had to bring someone else with you to assist you in building your home,” Sir Five said. He knew, logically, that it had to have existed long before the prince’s disappearance because of the worn nature of the fence (a telling sign that it had been through many a winter) and the size of the fruit trees.

The prince gathered up the crops he had been harvesting from his garden and then walked closer to the knight. “I happened upon it during my travels, trying to find somewhere that I could be myself without the legacy of my mother or the watchful eyes of my father. The couple staying here had outgrown it and gifted it to me. They wished to be closer to the wife’s family as they had a son.”

“You like it here?” Sir Five asked as he took another look around the quaint meadow that the prince had made his home in.

“I do, very much.”

“Do you get lonely?”

They both seemed surprised that the knight had asked that, but neither shied away from the conversation that they had been having. The prince thought about it for a long moment before he answered, very quietly, “Yes.”

“Do you ever want to go back?”

“No.”

“Why?”

It was very unlike Sir Five to ask such questions, and yet he continued anyway. The prince didn’t seem very perturbed by it. Instead, he seemed happy to have company for the first time since whoever had owned the cabin before him had left. “I like it here,” he answered. “I can be myself, as I said earlier. I miss my brother, but he prefers to be around our people and receiving attention from the members of our court.”

Sir Five had heard rumors of Prince Klaus’ daliances with the noblemen of King Reginald’s kingdom, but for the most part he had tried to ignore them.

They both stood there, the soft breeze brushing across their skin and rippling the long green grass the coated the rest of the meadow the same way that fur would a sleeping dog, for a long moment. “Would you like to see what it’s like? To live a life where you can be who you wish whenever you wish?”

The knight thought about it for a long moment. Of course, he loved being a knight and getting to go on quests to help people and to prove that he was capable of such feats, but it did tire him so. “I suppose that I would, my prince.”

“I am not a prince as much as I am no longer Vanya. You may call me Viktor,” the man replied, a small smile gracing his features. “Now go into the house and change out of the stuffy armor. I am going to teach you how to garden.”

[just-jordie-things]

Ghost

word count: 11,648 warnings: swearing, mentions of death, reader is an orphan,  summary: John B was the closest thing to family that (y/n) had left, and now he’s gone and disappeared.  Fortunately JJ’s there to help her feel whole again. based on this song ___

[ yelling at the sky, screaming at the world // baby why’d you go away?... heaven only knows where you are now ]

August 10th, 9:30 p.m (The Night Of The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

“Unfortunately… we lost them” Officer Thomas said, hanging his head shamefully.

Pope broke down right away, Kiara at his side, comforting him with a hug and soft words.

“What do you mean you lost them?” JJ asked, jumping straight to anger.  “They’re just gone? They’re dead!?”

(y/n) stood back, glancing down at her cold hands, finding that they’ve begun to shake with the new information.  She didn’t know how to process what she was hearing.

“We don’t know for certain-” Thomas tried to explain, but JJ wasn’t having it, he lashed out completely.

“You drove them right into the storm!” He yelled, lunging for the cop, grabbing him by his shirt and shaking him violently.  “You killed them-!”

“JJ..” Kiara cried out, clutching tighter to Pope’s side as she began to quietly sob.

He released the cop with a shove, turning back to his remaining friends.  Pope pulled Kiara into his arms, crying into her hair silently.

But (y/n) was frozen in place, her expression hadn’t changed since Thomas had told them what happened.  Tears were streaming down her cheeks quickly, more and more spilling over with each passing second.  Her whole body shook, and she wrapped her arms around herself.  She wasn’t sure if it was the grief or the cold, but either way, her own embrace provided no comfort.

“(y/n/n)- sweetheart…” JJ stepped towards her, his hands outstretched for her to take if she needed, but she didn’t move.  Her eyes didn’t even meet his.

“John B…” She whimpered, her lip quivering as she sniffled.  “Sarah…”

When a sob escaped her, JJ was there in a second, grabbing onto her and holding her as tightly as he could in his arms.  She continued to sob, screaming and crying as her body finally reacted.

She thrashed in his hold, squirming and pushing at him, hands smacking at his arms and chest, trying to pry him off of her, even though deep down all she craved was to be held, comforted.

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair,” She was screaming, drawing the attention of the surrounding officers, as well as the Carreras and the Heywards who had shown up to comfort their children.

But (y/n) had no one to show up for her, they were all dead.

“It’s not fair- It's not fair it’s not fair” She continued to cry against JJ, until her knees gave out and she crumpled to the ground.  

The blonde boy followed with her, gathering her back in his arms no matter how much she fought and pushed him away.

But eventually her body tired out, and she gave in.  He could feel her slump into his shoulder as she rested all of her weight on him.  His own tears soaked into her hair and tee shirt as he dropped his face to her own shoulder.

“Not fair” She mumbled, on repeat, until her crying made her too incoherent to understand.  

He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do, he’d never seen (y/n) like this before, much less how you were supposed to react when your best friend, and your kinda new friend, were lost at sea.

“I’ve got you,” He said instead, knowing that there were no magic words to heal her.  “I’m here, I’ve got you”

They didn’t fix everything, but they seemed to do the trick, because she finally wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her hands fisting into the material of his shirt as she clutched onto him with the same intensity that he held her with.

They spent hours in that tent, long after Pope and Kiara’s parents took them home, they were still there.  Technically they were supposed to wait for a parent or guardian to pick them up.  But JJ’s father was a coked up piece of shit, and (y/n’s) parents were six feet underground.

She didn’t push him away again.  She spent the whole night in his arms, clinging onto him with an iron grip.  And ever since that night, she hasn’t really let go of him. ___

[ how do i love? how do i trust again? ]

September 10th, 3:00 a.m (One Month After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

“Wake up, (y/n/n), wake up”

The girl gasped for air as her eyes flew open, and as quickly as she’d woken up, she settled back into her pillow, eyes falling shut again as she let out a sign.

“I was doing it again, wasn’t I?” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she tried not to cry, and tried not to remember the vivid details of her nightmare.

Which was more of a traumatic memory than a nightmare, really.

JJ, who was lying next to her, was quiet as he gazed down at her, watching her calm herself down as best she could.  He always gave her the space to relax on her own before stepping in.  He wanted her to know that she was capable of recovering on her own, but that he would still be there for her as soon as she needed him.

After a few deep breaths, the girl rolled onto her side, her face colliding with his chest as she continued her steady breathing.

“Will you hold my hand?” She mumbled, and he simply nodded, reaching for her trembling fingers, and gently slotting his fingers through hers.  She continued to tap her index finger over the back of his hand at a rapid pace.

She did this for a minute or two before speaking again.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, baby, it’s alright,” He murmured to her softly, followed by a kiss to her forehead.  “I’ve got you”

A small choked sound came from her as tears threatened to well up in her eyes again.

She’d spent the last month in bed with him like this.  No matter how much time passed, and no matter how much her grief started to melt away and she began her coping process, she’d still wake up in the middle of the night from awful nightmares.

She hadn’t planned on being a regular guest in JJ’s bed at the Chateau, but she also didn’t have anywhere else to go.  She didn’t have a place of her own, she’d lived at the Chateau since she was six and John Routledge had taken her in.

She was just a child when her parents got into a freak boating accident and died at sea.  She hadn’t understood why she was put in the system, or why she couldn’t go home to her mom and dad.  But for some reason, her friend John B had gotten his dad to take her in, and after a day or two of moving in, she’d understood.

John and John B were her family now.

But then a year ago, John Routledge was declared lost at sea, and it was just her and John B.  It was hard, since he was pretty much the only father she’d ever known, and since he was announced dead, in the same way her parents had been.  At least she still had John B, who was a brother to her.

Fate had a sick sense of humor though, sending him off into a storm, likely killing him.

And she ended up losing him, too.

JJ’s free hand smoothed over her back, caressing her hair, and then rubbing circles over her back again.  He always did his best to comfort her in any way she needed.  And it had been a month of waking up with her to her nightmares, so he always knew just what to do.

“Can we go stay in his room?” She asked quietly.

That was a new request that JJ hadn’t been expecting, but nonetheless, he nodded, and helped her to sit up.  He reached his hands out for her, offering to help her get out of bed, but she limply hung her arms in the air, silently asking him to carry her.

“Alright, you big baby,” He teased in a tired murmur, and leaned over to wrap his arms around her torso, picking her up and pulling her into his chest.

Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, and her head laid down on his shoulder.  Had she not been so shaken up, she could have fallen right back asleep.

“But I’m only doing this cause you’re so damn cute” He told her as his hands shifted to hold her from under her legs, and he carefully made his way through the dark to get to John B’s room.

The flirty comment provoked a small and sleepy laugh from the girl.  It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it provided a certain comfort to JJ.  it had been a while since she truly laughed.  He missed the sound dearly.

(y/n) had spent some time in John B’s room during the long summer days.  But she’d never spent the night in it.

JJ would often find her in there, cleaning up, reorganizing his book shelf, playing his CD’s, feeding the fish he’d won at a carnival a year ago that was miraculously still alive- she’d do anything and everything to spend time in there.  To her, it was all that was left of him.

JJ had even caught her putting on his clothes, worn tee shirts, strangely-patterned button downs, sweaters that were too big for her- but she always took them off before anyone could see.  JJ pretended not to notice, and never said anything.  Both because he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed, but also because sometimes when she spent all of her time in that room, he’d feel just the tiniest amount of jealousy, and it made him feel ashamed.

[ i stay up all night, tell myself i’m alright // baby you’re just harder to see than most ]

“Alright, here we go, baby,” He said as he delicately set her down on the mattress.

(y/n) visibly deflated as she melted into the cool sheets.  Her limbs were still wrapped around JJ’s figure, so she pulled him down with her as she got situated, but he didn’t mind.

With great caution, he slipped out of her hold just enough to lay at her side, so that he wouldn’t pass out on top of her.

He watched as she seemingly relaxed for the night, finally.  She pressed her face deep into the pillow her head was under, taking in a deep breath, the lingering smell of cologne and the beach and something that was distinctly John B flooding her senses.

“It still smells like him” She murmured.  She doesn’t sound like she’s going to cry again, but JJ keeps a watchful eye on her, just in case.

When she exhaled, she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze.  He gave her a small smile, which she faintly returned before moving in closer to him.

“Thank you” She whispered as her forehead touched his gently.

His arms wrapped around the small of her back, pulling her into him completely.  And then he kissed her forehead again, and then her nose, before tucking her head against his chest, just under his chin.

She tended to lean her ear against his chest, using the steady beat of his heart to lure her to sleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart” He told her, like he had a million times before.

“I know, you always say that,” (y/n) murmured, lips brushing over his neck as she spoke.  “But I mean it anyways.  Thank you, Jay”

Her hand finds a comfortable place to rest just over his heart, and soon she’s drifting back to a seemingly peaceful sleep.  JJ just hopes she makes it through the night.

He lets his hand brush through her hair, untangling the locks until his fingers can run perfectly smooth through it.  He does this until he falls asleep. ___

[ i put the record on, wait till i hear our song // every night i’m dancing with your ghost ]

July 4th, 10:00 p.m (A Month Before The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

Neither of them had made a move yet, but they both knew all too well that there was something between them.  Something fiery and exciting, something soft and intimate.

JJ always flirted with (y/n), long before he realized he actually had feelings for one of his closest Pogue friends.  They’d been friends since they were kids, and they’d technically been living together for the past few months, but only recently had it dawned on him that he was falling in love with her, and it was happening fast.

“As flattering as I find your staring, you look very zoned out,” Her voice drew him from his thoughts, and he found himself grinning as (y/n) walked up to him, beer in hand.

John B and Pope had thrown a Fourth of July kegger, and it was probably the craziest party they’d had in years.  Tourons and Kooks had shown up from all over the island, and every kid on The Cut made an appearance that night.

A couple of Kooks had even brought in their own kegs to help supply the party with enough beer.

But despite all the people here, all the hot Tourons to be exact, JJ had been content that (y/n) had approached him, with her sweet smile and revealing bikini.

“What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours, hm?” She asked, only half teasing.

All summed had been like this.  The flirting intensified, and they both stopped pursuing one night stands with the Tourons that came to these things.

“Absolutely nothing,” JJ grinned back at her, and she laughed, believing him.  “Where you been all night? Fighting off all these guys I hope?” He asked, half joking.

Coincidentally, a group of basic white tourist boys walked past, one of them letting out a low whistle as their eyes wandered over (y/n’s) figure.

JJ scowled at him, stepping forward threateningly, one of his arms instinctively wrapping around the girl’s waist as he glared down the Touron until he cowered away.

“Wow,” (y/n) chuckled, one of her hands pressing against JJ’s chest, but she didn’t push him away, so he didn’t move.  “You made your point tough guy, jesus,” She said, raising her brows at him.  “Jealous much?”

“Me? Jealous?” He asked with a scoff, to which (y/n) mimicked the sound.

“That’s real hot coming from the most jealous and pissed off guy in the OBX” She teased with a growing smirk on her lips.

“Well, sure, but I’m not jealous of that guy,” JJ told her, gesturing at the lame Touron who was miserably failing at shotgunning a beer.

But as he watched the idiot with an amused grin, (y/n) just smiled up at the blonde boy, admiring his side profile for a moment.

Unlike most stories of friends who became lovers, where they weren’t sure when their friendship blossomed into something more, (y/n) knew exactly when she fell for JJ.

It had been last summer.  They’d been on the HMS Pogue on a fishing trip, and while she’d never been fishing before, she was eager to let JJ and Pope teach her how.  When she caught her first fish, JJ had cheered, but he could tell that it made her sad to throw it in the cooler.  So he told her it was alright if she wanted to throw it back.  He showed her how to carefully take the fish off the lure so it wouldn’t be as hurt, and let her throw it back in the water.

He must have felt her staring, because suddenly he was turning back to her, his eyes locking on hers instantly.

“Look who’s starin’ now” He teased, his fingers brushing against her hips in an attempt at tickling her.

She giggled and wiggled a bit, but she still didn’t pull away from him.

They were very close, so close that if JJ hadn’t been wearing his hat backwards, then its brim would have been bumping into her forehead.  So close, that she could just faintly feel his warm breath hitting the bridge of her nose.  So close, that it would be so easy to kiss him right now.

Curiously, her eyes wandered down to his lips, pink and inviting, begging to be kissed, she thought.  No wonder girls would throw themselves at him, he had the most perfect looking pair of lips.

Of course, before she could decide if it was worth it to throw reason (and the only Pogue rule) out the window, Rafe and Topper were causing trouble somewhere on the beach, and soon JJ was peeling himself away from her and racing off towards the conflict.

He was always there to end it, never one to shy away from a fight.  (y/n) had come to terms with that a long time ago, knowing it was something she’d never be able to change.

But looking back on it, if he hadn’t left her to get his ass kicked by Rafe Cameron, then they probably would have crossed that line between friendship and something more that very night. ___

[ Never got a chance to say a last goodbye ]

September 15th, 9:45 a.m (Two Months After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

The sun was unrelenting as it shined in through the window, forcing (y/n) to wake up despite her longing to sleep in bed all day.  It wouldn’t be the first time that she refused to get out of bed.

But she told herself that she should.  The sun was telling her that she should.  Even if she did manage to close her eyes and ignore the brightness streaming into the room, she knew she wouldn’t sleep comfortably.

Today, she was going to get up and make herself breakfast.  That felt like a good start for taking care of herself today.

She rolled over with a groan, in an attempt to reach for JJ to see if he was awake.  Some mornings he would wake up before her and she’d find him laying there on his phone, but sometimes he would just peacefully lay there as he waited for her to wake up.

However, as she lazily slung her hand towards the other side of the bed, she only ended up hitting pillows.  And suddenly the easy morning started to turn upside down.

Don’t freak out, she told herself, even as she scurried out of bed.  

Don’t panic, it’s fine, he’s probably just watching tv in the living room.  

As she was about to run out of the room, she decided at the last second it was probably best to throw on a pair of shorts.  The large tee shirt she well fell just past all of her curves, but it would be embarrassing if she ran through the Chateau in front of Pope and Kiara in a worried panic without pants on.

Or maybe he’s making breakfast, like that one time he brought you breakfast in bed, that was really sweet.

None of the calming ideas that crossed her mind actually calmed her, as she searched through the living room, there was no sign of JJ.  The kitchen was empty, the bathroom door was hung ajar, and also empty.

There was a logical explanation for him not being here, deep down she knew that, but then why didn’t he leave a note? Or wake her to let her know he’d be leaving? Why would he leave without saying anything at all? Didn’t he know that this was her worst fear come to life, again?

Panic took over, and next thing she knew she couldn’t take in enough air as her throat closed up and her legs stopped working.  She stood in the living room for a solid minute, hands glued to her head, fists tugging on her hair tightly in a terrible attempt to ground herself to the moment and not spiral any further.

But her heavy breaths turned to sobs and she didn’t know she was crying until she felt the tears on her cheeks.

There’s a logical explanation, there’s a logical explanation, she repeated in her head like a mantra, hoping to god that she’d start believing it soon.

Slowly, she crouched down on the floor, because sometimes when she had panic attacks she got dizzy so it was better to sit down now.

Or maybe he went boating with Pope, they like to fish early in the morning, she thought.  Maybe they hit something, the marsh is always changing with the weather.  Maybe the boat capsized, maybe they drowned to their deaths-

No! Don’t think that!

The sobbing got worse as she assumed the worst, taking in gasping breaths of air, desperate to fill her lungs that felt like they were about to collapse.

Maybe they went into town to pick up breakfast.  Maye they got stopped by Kooks, or Barry, maybe they were murdered in cold blood-

The girl whimpered, trying to ward off the horrific images rolling through her mind, but as terrible as they were, she reminded herself that these weren’t unrealistic worries, that these things had happened before, and would happen again.

He promised me he wouldn’t get on a fucking boat, he promised me he’d start biking around the island, she told herself.  JJ wouldn’t break a promise to her, especially that one, but the anxiety inside of her was still whispering into her ear, telling her that all of her friends very well could have been gone forever.

Maybe he just left.  Maybe he got sick and tired of waiting around.  Maybe he was just being a nice guy the last two months.  Maybe he didn’t care anymore.  Maybe he didn’t miss John B or Sarah.  Maybe he finally fled for the mainland like he’s been talking about since he was a kid.  Maybe he’s with a girl.  Maybe he didn’t care about you anymore.

Her hands covered her face, wishing that she could just stop and focus on something else, calm her breathing.  She wanted to run out of the Chateau and go looking around the island, but she remained frozen on the floor.

“(y/n)?” A voice called, and she could faintly hear the screen door swinging open and then shut.  “Woah, hey, (y/n/n)”

Through blurry eyes, she could just barely make out Pope’s figure, kneeling in front of her.

Pope, Pope is here, she thought to herself, and it sort of helped relax her.  You’re not alone, Pope is here.

She shakily reached her hands out to him, grabbing onto his forearms and anchoring herself to him.

He’s real, he’s right here.  His hands are holding your elbows, he’s real.

“Breathe, (y/n), deep breaths, you can do it,” His initially stressed voice calmed when he realized that she was having a panic attack.  He’d seen her have them once or twice before, but it was always JJ who rushed in and helped her out of them.  “Copy my breathing, can you do that?” He asked.

She nodded her head, eyes meeting his as he took in a long and deep breath, held it for three seconds, and then slowly let it out.  He kept on repeating that action until her exhales weren’t shaky, and her body relaxed.

“There you go, you’ve got it, you’re alright…” He said smoothly.

His thumbs caressed over her arms gently, reminding her silently that he was there for her, that he cared about her.

“You want to talk about it?” He offered, and (y/n) shut her eyes tightly, willing the rest of her tears to dry up.

“I- I woke up and- and-”

When she began to stutter, Pope hushed her soothingly, and helped her through another breathing exercise.

“Okay, now try again,” He said softly, once her breaths evened out again.  “Slowly”

“I woke up,” She said, slowly, and then exhaled.  “And JJ wasn’t there- and then he wasn’t out here-”

When the rambling began again, she breathed in deeply again.

“It’s alright, he’s right outside,” Pope told her, relieved that the problem had an easy solution..  “You want to go out and see him?”

(y/n) nods back at him, and he helps her stand.

“Kie and I came over this morning, we brought donuts,” He said, hugging her into his side.  “We were just on the porch, Jay said you were asleep”

Pope opened the front door for her, as they went onto the porch, and her entire body relaxed as her eyes landed on JJ.

He was sitting on the beat up sofa that had been out there since forever, while Kiara was leaning against the citing of the house, a blunt between her fingers.

JJ smiled as (y/n) came out with Pope, tucked into his side the way a child clings to their mother at large events.

“Morning baby,” He calls to her, and pats the space next to him on the couch, before resting his arm over the back of the cushions.  

In no time she peels away from Pope and is sliding into the space under his arm, her side and her legs pressed up against him.  It feels like that first sip of coffee in the morning, and she forgets about the anxiety attack she’d had just moments ago.

He eyes the way she’s twirling the ring around her thumb, almost obsessively.  She hasn’t taken it off since he’d given it to her, and he doesn’t think she ever will.

“You hungry? Kie and Pope brought donuts” He offered, gesturing to the box on the decorative table Kiara was standing next to.

“Maybe in a little bit” She mumbled, her head falling against his shoulder as she let herself feel relieved.

Some days it was hard to feel content with being content.  But JJ was a huge help with that.  His presence alone was enough to calm her, that much was obvious.

He’s a little thrown off, but wraps his arm around her nonetheless.  His rings are a chill on her hot skin, but it’s somehow comforting.

Panic attack, Pope mouths when the blonde boy looks to him, silently asking what happened.

JJ nods discreetly, before glancing down at the girl under his arm.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly.

Kiara and Pope pretended to argue over the last chocolate sprinkled donut, so that they had a little bit of privacy between them.

“Fine, now,” She whispers back.

Her fingers aimlessly play with the chain around his neck.

“I- I had a panic attack” She admits.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked as the tips of his fingers grazed up and down her arm.

She lifts her head to look at him properly, her fingers still twirling his necklace around her fingers.

“Um… you just… you weren't inside…”

It felt embarrassing to admit that something as simple as that had set her off.  When she was in the moment it was a lot more terrifying.  But JJ made sure she wasn’t ashamed of that feeling.

“Well, I’m right here,” He told her with a grin.  “You know you can’t get rid of me that easy” He added, hugging her tight against him and kissing the top of her head.

She always went pink when he did that, that’s why he did it more often than he used to.

“I know,” She mumbled back.  “I just… you know…”

She doesn’t know what she wants to say.  That she’s scared to lose him too? That he’s the only anchor she had left? The only remnants of family she had left? That she loved him more than words could describe?

Whatever she had planned on filling the blank with, JJ seemed to understand her perfectly.  He’d gotten really good at understanding what she was trying to say in between the words she was actually saying.

“I know, baby,” He says softly.

Her head falls back onto his shoulder.  Selfishly, she wished that she could sit here with him like this every day.  Maybe then she'll start to really feel better.

Meanwhile there’s a nagging feeling in JJ’s chest.  Worry, fear, something terrible that began to manifest.  An anxiousness that (y/n) won’t emotionally recover from the disappearance of their friends.

He knew grief took time, that learning to cope took time.  But she’d already had to face those things time and time again, what if this was it? What if this was the last straw, and she gave into them?

His arm around her tightened a little, and (y/n) hummed as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.  She placed a little kiss there before sighing.

“Thanks, Jay,” She mumbles.  “You always know just what I need”

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles and rubs her arm comfortingly.

Despite her words, he still worries on the inside. ___

[ i gotta move on, but it hurts to try ]

August 10th, 1:00 a.m (The Night Of The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

(y/n) and JJ had been stuck under police supervision for the last three and a half hours, sitting under the large tents, listening to the heavy rainfall while passing officers would offer their condolences.

It was all bullshit though, and it was starting to piss (y/n) off.

But finally they were allowed to go home, and were escorted to the Chateau.  Which is where they stood now.

(y/n) looked like she was glued to the floorboards of the porch, frozen in place like a statue.  The wind whipped at her hair and the rain still hit them even as they stood under the little roof over them.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” JJ said, reaching out to take her hand, but even as he tugs, she hardly moves.  “(y/n)-”

“I don’t want to,” She mumbles, eyes trained on the front door.

A part of her longed to see John B appear, open the door with a laugh and scold the pair for standing outside in the rain.  The harder she looks, the more she wishes to see him there.

“But I don’t have anywhere else to go” She whimpered, finally tearing her eyes away from the door to look at him.

JJ steps forward, his arm wrapping around her back as he slowly guides her inside.  Her feet shuffle along, but they barely lift off the ground, and she’s barely moving.  He’s just glad to get her inside and out of the rain.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold, sweetheart” He told her, which was true, but he just needed to say anything to get her to come into the house.  He didn’t know what he’d do if she refused.

“I don’t care” She mumbled, but she was already standing at the inside of the doorway.

“Shoes off,” JJ told her, having already left his shoes at the door and was heading into the house.  “You know how JB feels about shoes in the house”

(y/n) nods, shakily, and starts to kick off her shoes

But now all she can think about is the first time she’d accidentally tracked mud into the house, and how funny it was when John B freaked out.  Thinking about it now, it was just sad.

When JJ came back in the room, she was crying again, silently, she might not have even been aware she was doing it.  She was untying the laces on her boots as tears spilled over her cheeks.

“Come on,” He spoke, and suddenly there was a towel wrapped around her shoulders.  “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

“No,” She mumbled.  “I just want to lay down”

Her hands gripped onto the fluffy towel almost violently, her knuckles were white, and her hands shook from the force.  JJ noticed.

“And you will, but you’ve got to shower first,” He said.  “Look at you, you’re soaked to the bone from the rain-”

“JJ-”

“No arguments, lets go” He replied, quiet and calm as ever.

She gave in, mostly because he didn’t have the energy to argue with him.  And then she was back to shuffling along with him to the bathroom.

She stood uselessly at the door while he turned the shower on for her.

“How hot do you want it?” He asked, one hand on the noz and the other under the stream of water

She shrugged, mumbled incoherently.

“You’ve got to speak up, honey” JJ said.

“I don’t care” She mumbled a little louder, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Yeah you do, I’ll put it on hot” He answered for her, and adjusted the nozzle accordingly.

But as he turned back, about to leave the room, she didn’t bother to move.  Her eyes were downcast, and her hands had released the towel only to wring her hands together.

“Hey, I’ll be in my room, you can-”

“Wait-”

She grabbed his wrist before he could leave the room, and her glossy eyes met his, her mouth opened but no words came out, so she closed it again.  He waited until she could find the right words.

“Please- please don’t leave me in here-”

Her breathing grew ragged and the tears started to fall from her eyelashes, and JJ nodded at her, silently confirming he'd stay so she would feel safe.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay right here,” He told her, both of his hands wrapping around hers.  “I’ll wait right in here for you, alright?”

She nods, still a bit shaky, but she turns towards the shower and slowly works on taking off her clothes, so he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

In all honesty, he had no idea what the right thing to do was.  As he turned his back to her and stressfully ran his hands through her hair, he didn’t know what to say or do, what the right way to comfort someone was.

He knew that Kiara and Pope were at home with their families, probably hugging, telling each other they love each other, the kind of shit you see in movies.

But you didn’t see this part of the movie.  The part where the girl you love is going borderline catanoic as she stands in the shower, limbs heavy and heart shattered.

Was he supposed to talk to her? Offer what few comforting words he knew how to say? Was he supposed to tell her he was there for her, that he loved her and he would never leave her? Was that an overload of information?

“JJ?” (y/n) called from the other side of the shower curtain.

“I’m here” He said, sitting on the toilet seat so he’d be right next to her.

She peeled back the curtain, just enough to peek her head out, and then held her hand out to him.  A slight frown tugged on his lips, but he reached his hand out to hers anyways, softly clasping onto it, as though if he’d put any pressure into holding it, then she’d break like a porcelain doll.

She closed the curtain again and went about her shower.  It wasn’t a bother with only one hand, but JJ could still hear her soft whimpers from inside.

After ten minutes she turned off the water.

“Close your eyes” She directed, her voice was still a mumble, but without the noise of the water running JJ heard her clearly, and followed her order.

Her hand let go of his as she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself, but it was only briefly, as she was grabbing onto it again as soon as she was covered up.  She gave it a small squeeze to let him know that she was decent.

When he looked up at her, she was staring down at their hands, focused on the rings on his fingers.

The one on his thumb, she had given to him.  Not for a special occasion, she’d just found it in a shop and thought it would look fitting and cool on him.  

She was right.  

He never took it off.

There was another ring on his middle finger, that one was from John B.  He’d swiped it from a second hand shop because it had a neat but very faint engraving of a snake around it.  He’d originally stolen it for himself, but it hadn’t fit right, so he handed it off to JJ.

(y/n) ran the pad of her thumb over the engraving now.  The snake wasn’t very visible, but she could still feel it.

JJ squeezed her hand, drawing her eyes back to his.

She wasn’t whimpering anymore, but the tears hadn’t stopped.  She had to be exhausted.

“I’ve gotta take a shower baby,” He said softly.  “You want to go to bed?”

She shook her head, looking back at his rings.

“You want to wait in here?” He asked.

With a small nod from her, he stood up, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to the crown of her head before turning the water and going through the same routine again.

It took some time as he showered and (y/n) waited for him on the toilet.  When he’d finished and gotten out to find that she was still wrapped in her towel, he’d convinced her to let him help her change into pajamas.

When she’d finished, she wrapped her arms around his neck, stepping forward and hugging him gently, with little to no force at all.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed” JJ said, lifting her up with ease, one arm hooked under her legs and the other.

“You’ll stay, right?” She asks meekly as he brings her to his room.

“Of course” He hums back.

They get situated under the covers, and finally (y/n’s) tears seem to stop.  JJ doesn’t keep his hopes up, though.

He pulls her head to his chest, one arm wrapping around her back at his other hand takes a hold of hers.  For good measure, she hooks her leg over one of his, just to be sure she won’t roll away from him in her sleep.

“You won’t leave?” She murmurs.

The exhaustion and the misery that her body is facing is clear to him as she tilts her head back to look at him.

He gives her a small smile, before letting go of her hand, so that he can take the ring off of his middle finger.  He takes her hand again, and slides it over her thumb.  It’s a little loose, enough that she can twirl it around with ease.

“Now you can have a little bit of both of us with you,” JJ says to her.  “I’m not goin’ anywhere”

She doesn’t quite smile, but her expression relaxes as she looks at him, and he takes it as a good sign.

“I’ve got you, baby” He tells her softly as she settles against him, sleep finally starting to overcome her.

“I can’t lose you too” She tells him right before her body gives out. ___

[ how do i love? how do i trust again? ]

November 10th, 6:30 p.m (Precisely Three Months After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

(y/n) had been sitting on the couch all afternoon, replaying the day’s events in her head like a flashback scene in a movie.

She’d woken up with JJ, they made breakfast and went on a walk, avoiding the beach.  They went to visit Kiara at The Wreck with Pope, and then went back to the Chateau to do some chores.

(y/n) liked to keep the place tidy and clean.  It gave her something to do, and deep down, she knew that if John B came home, he’d be happy to see everything was just how he left it.  If not a little more organized thanks to her.

And then they’d gotten the call from the Sheriff’s Department.

JJ came into the room, a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of advil in the other.

“Here” He said, handing them both to her.

“I don’t need it, my head doesn’t hurt” (y/n) replied quietly, barely even looking at him.

“Not now, but from the look on your face I can tell it’s going to soon.  Just take it now, please” JJ said, holding out the cup and bottle towards her again.

(y/n) gave in, knowing he was right, and there was no use in arguing with him because he’d only bother her until she just took the pill.

JJ sat down next to her as she swallowed down the medicine, along with a few more drinks of water.  She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was, and suddenly wondered how long she’d been sitting there.

“Where do you think they are?” JJ asked out of nowhere, and she turned to him.

“What?” She asked, voice barely above a mumble.

“John B and Sarah,” He said their names so easily, so casually her heart clenched.  

She almost never spoke their names.  And when she did, she was usually in a fit of tears.

“Where do you think they are?” JJ repeated his question.

(y/n’s) mouth opened, then closed.  And then open and closed again.  She didn’t understand what he was asking.

JJ could tell, and he sat back to stretch out on the soda, his legs kicking out as his back leaned against the arm rest.  (y/n) turned her body to look at him properly, but didn’t crawl into his arms like he’d expected.  She was too confused trying to comprehend what he was saying.

“I think they’re in Florida,” JJ thought aloud, realizing (y/n) wasn’t going to entertain the question.  “And I think they got married”

“Married?” She mumbled, blinking at him.  “You think they’re... alive?”

“Of course,” JJ said, as sincerely as he could.  “Don’t you?”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t have to.

“There’s no way they aren’t.  John B’s a pretty tough guy, and Sarah’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.  More stubborn than you” He spoke with such ease, it threw (y/n) off.  

His knee knocked against her side, and he held his hand out to her, beckoning her to lay with him.

Warily, she leaned forward, crawling into the space between his legs, and then flipping over to rest back against his chest.  JJ’s arms wrapped around her middle naturally, and he continued to let his thoughts roam free.

“Do you think they’ve got some new treasure hunt going down there?” He whispered into her ear.

“Yes” (y/n) replied, finally giving in to the conspiracy.

“Yeah?” JJ asked, glad that was entertained by the idea, and hopefully comforted too.

“Yeah… I’ll bet… I’ll bet they’re tracking more gold… or… or jewels… or something”

JJ smiled at how hard she tried to let herself get used to the idea.  He knew how badly she wanted to move on, and how she felt stuck in the past.  This was a significant step forward, and he was more proud of her than he let on.  He just didn’t want her to think he pitied her.

“They’re probably filthy rich by now,” JJ told her.  “She’s probably turned him full Kook”

“In a good way,” (y/n) spoke, her smile shining through her words.  “He was so…”

“Whipped” JJ muttered.

“In love,” (y/n) corrected with a soft exhale.  “They only had a week together before they… left,” She said carefully.  “And I… I’ve known John B my whole life and he’d never looked at anyone the way he looked at Sarah”

From where her head laid on his chest, JJ couldn’t see well, but he just knew that she was smiling as she spoke, reminiscing in the good memories.

“So you think they got married when they got to Florida?” JJ asked, speaking it like it was a truth.

“Yeah, I think they just might have,” (y/n) said.  She thought for a moment, and then let out a small giggle.

He was surprised by the sound, especially when it erupted into more joyous laughter.

“You know,” She ponders aloud, “I think that when they got wherever they were headed, and realized they were safe and alive, he proposed to her right then”

“Yeah?” JJ asked, amused, and revelling in the sound of her laughter.  

He had missed the sound so much, he’d worried he’d never hear it again.  He closed his eyes as he listened to her soft giggles, and melted at the way her back slightly shook against his chest.

“Yeah,” (y/n) confirmed, and one of her hands reached for his that lied on her stomach.  “It probably wasn’t romantic at all.  He probably didn’t even get on one knee”

“You’re so right,” JJ laughed with her.  “He probably was just like ‘we should get married’ and Sarah was like ‘oh John B, i love you!’ And-”

(y/n) burst into laughter at JJ’s high pitched impression of Sarah.  It didn’t sound like her, it didn’t even sound like any girl, but it made her belly laugh, and she sat up slightly so she could turn to look at him.

“Why are you laughing at me? That was a spot on impression” He told her.

“No, it wasn’t,” (y/n) said, shaking her head as she looked down at him.

There were crinkles at her eyes and her lips were pulled into the widest smile he’d seen from her in months.

He had convinced himself that he wasn’t 100% sure what love felt like, but right now it felt like his heart might just burst because of it.

He hadn’t just missed her laugh.  He’d missed her.

“It’s almost like you have no idea what a woman sounds like- but Jay, you’ve been living with one for like three years now- what?” (y/n) had cut herself off from her teasing when she saw the way he was staring at her.

He looked sad, but he was smiling, so she didn’t know what to think.  Usually she could read him pretty well, but she’d never seen this look before.

“What?” She asked again.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason, I just…”

JJ sits up, trying to find the right words as he instinctively grabs a hold of her.  She turns to face him again, her legs hooking behind him as she waits for him to continue.

“I’m just thinking” He finishes.

“Well that’s dangerous,” She replies, the banter coming as naturally as it used to.  She lets out a little snort of a laugh as she smiles at him.  “What about?”

JJ’s hands smooth around her hips, the way they did earlier when they’d gotten the call from Officer Thomas himself, but now it wasn’t to comfort, it was simply because he could.

“You ever think about what would have happened if we never went on that treasure hunt?” He asked, quietly, like he was trying not to upset her.

She goes still, but she doesn’t push him away, and she doesn’t choke up.

“All the time” She murmurs back.

Her voice comes out through a quiet exhale, and if he wasn’t so close, he might not have heard it.  But in the last three months his ears had been practically trained to hear her every breath, and catch on to every mumble.

“Really?” He asked, and she nodded, her bottom lip tucking in between her teeth as she looked back at him.

“Of course,” She quietly replied.  “How else do you think I keep sane during all the quiet moments?”

It’s a sweet thing to say, paired with a soft smile that JJ felt relieved to see.

“Well then what do you think we’d be doing right now?”

“Something stupid,” She answered right away, followed by a small laugh.  “Something sketchy.  That’s all we ever did”

“We fished too, fishing’s legal.  And surfing, that’s legal too”

“That’s fair,” (y/n) hummed.  “Kie and Sarah would’ve gotten along better,” She added.  “It would’ve been nice to have a girls day”

“I’ll have a girls day with you” JJ told her, making her laugh again.

“I know you would,” She said, setting her hands on his shoulders.  “But it’s not the same”

JJ shrugged.

“You can braid my hair and put makeup on me, what else do you do on a girls day?” He asked, and again, she giggled.

He hoped he could keep making her laugh.

“What do you think we’d be up to?” She asked once the laughter subsided and she was left staring into those baby blue eyes again.

“Macking”

The laughter bubbled back over, her hands swatting at his shoulders as she threw her head back.

“Well you don’t have to laugh that much,” JJ said, brows furrowed as he pouted.  “It’s true, we would be”

“Maybe,” (y/n) corrected.  “If you’d ever actually made a move, maybe”

“What do you mean ever actually made a move?” He asked, offended.  “I maed plenty of moves! Lots and lots of moves”

“Oh really?” (y/n) asked, quirking an eyebrow.  “I don’t think we’re remembering it the same way, because I only seem to remember you scaring other boys away from me...”

“Well, yeah, among other things,” JJ said, shrugging casually.  “Can’t have a bunch of lame Tourons crowding my girl”

She laughed at his idea of flirting, but she knew fully well that it had always worked.  JJ Maybank was charming in his own unique way, and even now it made her melt in his hands.

“So you’re saying that eventually you would have done something about it?”

“About it?”

“Yeah, you know, whatever was… between us,” (y/n) clarified, her finger twirling around the space between them.  “I have a hard time believing you would have asked me out”

“I would have!” JJ said, pretending to take offense at her accusation.  “Eventually”

“Mhm,” She hummed, and then shook her head.  “Well, we’ll never know now,” She sighed, dropping her hands to her lap as she started to fiddle.  “I think we skipped a couple steps”

“I think we skipped all the steps, sweetheart,” JJ chuckled, taking her hands so she would stop fidgeting.  “But that’s alright, I wouldn’t take it any other way.  You’d be the only one for me no matter what happens,”

Her face turns a rosy shade of pink, which brings JJ to kiss both of her cheeks with a proud grin.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked.  “Have the what are we conversation”

Surprisingly, (y/n) shrugs and shakes her head.

“I mean, I don’t think we really have to, do you?” She asks softly.  “If there’s no one else for you, and no one else for me…” She trails off, her eyes flickering in between his.  “I think it’s pretty clear to me”

“Yeah,” JJ agrees, nodding his head.  “Pretty clear,” He repeats.  “I just hope you know what you’re getting into” He teases.

She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned in closer.

“I’ve lived with you for quite some time now, I think I know exactly what I’m getting into”

There’s a beat that passes between them, a quiet, contemplative beat.

But then (y/n’s) shaking her head, and she’s smiling at him so brightly that it’s contagious.

And then she leans over just a little bit, just enough to tenderly press her lips against his.

He’s quick to react, his hands reaching up to her face, pulling her impossibly closer to him.

She’s so slow and careful with her movements, and JJ thinks it might have been the softest kiss he’s ever been given.  Her lips are warm, inviting, and he begins to kick himself for not making a proper move on her back when everything wasn’t so heavy.

They pull away, their grins equally wide, and (y/n) leans her forehead into his, her eyes still shut.  JJ stares at her, awestruck, admiring every curve and freckle on her face.

His hands fall to her waist again, and he pulls her down onto the couch with him, allowing her to tuck herself in against his side as they lay comfortably.

They talk for a long time, theorizing on where they’d be now in another life, and what Sarah and John B are up to, wherever they are.  There’s a few tears that JJ has to wipe from the girl’s cheeks, but she’s smiling.

She has hope, for the first time in months, she’s filled with hope and love and deep down she truly believes things will get better.

Even if the day started with the Sheriff’s Department calling to let them know that John B and Sarah Cameron are officially and legally declared dead, since they’d been missing for three months.

It might get worse before it gets better.  But it was bound to get better. ___

[ i stay up all night, tell myself i’m alright // baby you’re just harder to see than most ]

February 19th, 2:45 p.m (Six Months After The Disappearance of John B Routledge and Sarah Cameron)

“I’m not sayin’ that I will key their cars,” JJ argues, “I’m just saying that I would!”

Pope and Kiara burst into fits of laughter, knowing full well that JJ would bust up Kook property at any given chance, even unprovoked.

(y/n) rolled her eyes from next to him, patting his arm gently.

“Sure, Jay, sure” She says, completely unconvinced.

Normally he’d continue to argue that he was just making a joke, but no one would believe him, and truth be told, he wouldn’t even believe himself.

They’d all gotten together today to hang out and eat lunch at The Wreck.  It was one of Kiara’s off days, so for once she actually got to sit at the table with her friends.  It was a nice afternoon, and definitely much needed quality time.

“You want more water?” (y/n) hummed, already picking up her and JJ’s empty glasses.

“Sure, thanks,” He answered with a charming smile while she got up.  “Oh, but wait” He called, reaching out for her arm before she could walk away.

“What?”

He tugged on her arm so she would bend over and he could swiftly kiss her cheek.  She giggled, swatting gently at his bicep, but nonetheless she blushed as she headed off to the counter.

Kiara and Pope each made their faces at JJ.  Winks, wiggling eyebrows, wide eyes, smirks, they couldn’t help it.

“Shut up, both of you” JJ chuckled before they could even say anything.

“We didn’t say anything” Pope grumbled.

“It’s just about time, that’s all,” Kiara said, putting her hands up in surrender.  “You two have been dancing that dance for years”

JJ didn’t say anything, just smiled as he poked around his plate of fries.

“Look at him, he’s so in love with her” Kiara cooed.

But Pope wasn’t looking at him at all, he’d turned in his seat when he’d caught sight of Rafe Cameron eyeing (y/n).  He’d known it wasn’t a good sign.

“Pope,” Kiara called, trying to get his attention, but realized his gaze was focused elsewhere.  “What are you…” She trailed off, turning to follow his line of sight.

She only groaned at the sight of Rafe, before turning back to their own table.  Kooks came to The Wreck on occasion, but not usually Kooks like Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton, who were in a booth across the restaurant.

“What’s he doing?” Pope mumbled, now watching Rafe get up from his booth, and make his way to the counter, where (y/n) was chatting with one of the servers.

JJ started to get up, but Pope was quick to put a hand up.

“Wait, doesn’t start anything,” He warned, and for some reason, JJ listened to him.  “(y/n) was friends with Sarah”

“That guy’s a fucking prick- and a murderer-” JJ started to argue, but Pope hushed him, telling him to keep his voice down.

“Just wait a minute before you swoop in there and make a scene,” Pope said.  “He’s Sarah’s brother, Sarah was a good person”

JJ muttered a string of profanities, but sat back down in his seat.  He didn’t take his eyes away from the counter though.

“(y/n) (y/l/n),” Rafe called, letting out a low whistle that made JJ bristle.  “Long time no see”

(y/n) barely looked at him before shooting her gaze down to the cups of water.  JJ can tell that she’s playing with the ring on her thumb.

“Yeah, I haven’t really been… around” She’d answered.

“Why doesn’t he just say his piece and leave” JJ muttered, both of his hands in his lap, curling into tight fists.

“That’s too bad” Rafe responded.

(y/n) wasn’t giving him any of her attention, so JJ knew he shouldn’t be so upset right now.  But he didn’t trust Rafe for as far as he could throw him, and he definitely didn’t trust him around (y/n).

“She can hold her own” Pope reminded him, knowing that JJ was starting to see red.

Yeah, but he’s a creep, he thought to himself.

“I’m sorry about Sarah,”

(y/n) spoke suddenly, soft and sweet, displaying nothing but kindness to a boy she knew wouldn’t know what kindness felt like if someone handed it right to him.

“I didn’t get to know her as well as I would have liked, but… I did like her a lot.  She was definitely a special-”

Rafe cut her off before she could say anything more.

“Well, you move on fast, don’t you?” He snarled.

(y/n) blinked, eyes going wide at the rude comment, even if she didn’t understand it.

“What-?”

“Your Pogue boyfriend’s only dead for a few months and you’ve already latched onto another, huh?” He asked, gesturing towards JJ.

(y/n’s) eyes wandered over to her boyfriend, who had just stood up from his seat with such force it fell backwards, and was now making his way over.

Please don’t get in a fight, she begged silently.  Please don’t make a scene, this isn’t worth the attention of the whole restaurant.

“Rafe, you’ve got it all wrong,” She told him quietly, trying to diffuse the situation herself.  “John B wasn’t my boyfriend, we grew up together, he was a brother to me-”

“You’re disgusting,” Rafe spat at her.  “If it wasn’t for your Pogue friends and your Pogue slut self, Sarah wouldn’t be dead right now!”

It felt like (y/n’s) heart stopped at the cruel accusation, and for a moment, she thought she might burst into tears in front of him.

“She’s not dead” She mumbled, her throat going tight.

JJ was at her side in a second, his arm winding around her hips and pulling her into him, about to drag her away without a word to Rafe.  He knew she didn’t want him to act out, and as hard as it was, he didn’t want to let her down.

He prompted her to follow him back to the table, forgetting about the water on the counter, he just wanted to get her out of this restaurant as fast as possible

“She is dead, they’re both dead because of you!” Rafe called after her, desperate to get the last word in.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” JJ hollered back, throwing the Kook a threatening look over his shoulder.

“That’s fine sweetheart!” Rafe shouted, and (y/n) tried her best to block him out.  “Let your shiny new toy fight your fights for you! Just like John B did.  Do all the Pogues you fuck become your guard dog?”

That was it.

Any chance of her crying went out the window and next thing she knew, she was ripping herself out of JJ’s hold and lunging towards Rafe, swinging without any aim, but enough force that when she hit the Kook in the nose, she could feel the crunch of cartilage against her knuckles, and blood splattered onto the counter.

“You bitch-!”

Rafe barely had a chance to fight back before JJ was grabbing (y/n) by the waist, lifting her up and physically carrying her out of The Wreck.  Pope and Kiara hastily followed them out, laughing joyously.

“Are you crazy?” JJ asked, only setting her down once they were down the street, and they were certain that a group of Kooks wouldn’t follow after them to finish what (y/n) had started.

She was still scowling, and rubbing at her jaw where Rafe had just barely nicked her with his knuckles.

“Fuck,” JJ grinned at her, taking her by surprise.  “You are crazy”

“You’re not mad?” She asked, and all three of her friends laughed.

“Mad? Of course not, you just broke Rafe Cameron’s nose, baby!” JJ cheered, cupping her face in his hands and pressing a quick kiss to her lips, and then her nose, and then her cheek.  “That’s my girl!”

The whooping and hollering of her boyfriend, echoed by Pope and Kie, made her blush red and butterflies erupt in her chest.  Breaking a Kook’s nose was a strange thing to feel bashful about, but the attention made her shy.

“Come on, let’s get home and ice that before it bruises” JJ said, nodding to her jaw.

As they made their way to the Chateau, their hands latched and swinging between them, JJ continued to gush over how badass and amazing she was, no matter how much she laughed it off and begged him to stop making her blush. ___

[ every night i’m dancing with your ghost ]

February 19th, 3:15 p.m

“You’re lucky I pulled you outta there before he landed a whole punch,” JJ told (y/n) as he pressed a bag of frozen peas against her jaw.  “This coulda hurt a lot worse, why didn’t you duck babe?”

(y/n) let out a huff, swinging her legs from where she sat on the kitchen counter.  JJ was standing between them, coddling her much more than necessary.

“I dunno, I’m not some pro fighter like you” She retorted, and hissed when he pressed a little too hard against the sensitive skin.

“I know that was supposed to be sarcastic, but I’m gonna take it as a compliment anyways,” JJ retorted, earning a good natured eye roll from the girl.  “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

“I know,” She giggled back.  “You haven’t shut up about it”

“Can’t help it, it was fuckin’ awesome,” JJ gushed again.  “It was so hot, the most perfect punch, I wish I coulda taken a picture of the look on Rafe’s face, priceless.  You’re such a badass, I fucking love you”

He didn’t seem to catch what he’d said, but (y/n) did.  

Her eyes blew wide, and her lips parted momentarily, at a loss for words.  And since she didn’t know what to say, she decided the next best thing was to lean forward and capture his lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss took JJ by surprise at first, but then the realization of what he’d said hit him, and he pulled away from her abruptly.

“Oh my god, I didn’t mean- well I did, but I-”

“JJ,” (y/n) giggled as he rambled, her hands laying across his cheeks.  “It’s okay, I-”

They were cut off by the phone ringing, which was odd, because it wasn’t their cellphone’s ringtone.  It took a second to even realize that the Chateau had a landline.

“What the fuck?” (y/n) pushed the bag of peas JJ was still holding away from her face, and hopped off the counter.  “Who even has this number? Oh my god, do you think it’s Thomas again?”

(y/n’s) heart began to race as she darted out of the kitchen towards the phone hanging on the wall.

“(y/n/n)- do you want me to take it?” JJ asked, worried that she’d freak herself out too much to actually answer the phone.

But she’d already unhooked the phone from the wall.

“Routledge Residence, (y/n) speaking”

There was a chuckle on the other side of the line, followed by a teasing, “I just knew that you weren’t gonna move out”

JJ couldn’t hear what the caller had said, but from the look on (y/n’s) face, he knew it couldn’t have been a telemarketer.

She dropped to her knees, the cord on the phone uncoiling completely as it stretched all the way down.  A choked sound between a sob and a gasp escaped her, and in a second, JJ was kneeling in front of her, jumping right into panic attack mode.

“(y/n/n), what is it? Who is it?”

“JJ there too? How are you guys-”

“John B?” (y/n) mumbled, voice shaky, scared that this was some practical joke at her expense.

JJ’s eyes went wide, and she finally looked up at him, his jaw slack.

“The one and only,” He laughed again.  “Guess I’m lucky you were at the house, I don’t remember any other phone numbers”

“I can’t believe it- are you okay? Is Sarah okay? Holy shit, John-”

“We’re okay, we’re both okay,” He chuckled, cutting her off.  “You’re not gonna believe this… but… we’ve got it”

“You’ve got it?” She repeated, confused.

“The gold, (y/n), we’ve got the gold”

“No shit-”

“Sarah says hi by the way,” He added.  “We’ll be back as soon as we can with it, okay? I don’t know when, but we’re working on it”

“What’s he saying?” JJ asked, but (y/n’s) brain was in a clusterfuck of information.

“I miss you- well all miss you- we miss you so much” She stammered out.

“We miss you too, (y/n)!” Sarah called, sounding distant through the speaker.

“We miss you a lot,” John B added,  “I’m sorry we didn’t call earlier, we just had to be sure there way it could get tracked-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I forgive you,” (y/n) said through a watery laugh.  “Just- just be safe, and get back as soon as you can, okay?”

“We will, promise,” John B replied.  “And I’ll try to call more too, okay? Look we’re… we’re working it all out right now”

“Okay, good,” (y/n) sighed, and wiped her teary cheeks with the back of her hand.  “I can’t wait to see you both”

“And when you do, we’ll be millions of dollars richer,” He told her.  “Look, we have to get going, Sarah has work.  The Kook Princess has a job here!” He told her with a laugh.  “I’ll call you when I can, alright?”

“Alright,” She agreed.  “Okay, call soon”

“Stay safe, (y/n/n), talk to you soon”

“Bye, John B”

He hung up, leaving the phone to ring a low dull sound, and (y/n) and JJ to stare at each other in amazement.

“They have the gold” (y/n) mumbled out.

“For real?”

“For real,” She nods back at him.  “They’re working on a plan to come home-”

Before she can finish, he tackles her to the ground, hugging her tight, and just letting the phone hang by it’s cord.  They’re laughing, she’s crying, and they can’t remember the last time they’ve felt joy like this before.

(y/n) sits up slightly, enough to wrap her arms around him and kiss him chastely.

“They’re in the Bahamas, and Sarah has a job, and- and they’re gonna come home” She rambled on as tears streamed down her face faster than JJ could wipe them away.

He’s grinning at her, kissing her whole face, everywhere he could.

She starts to giggle from the kisses, her shoulders raising from the ticklish feeling.

“JJ- JJ!” She cried out, having to grab him by his shoulders to get him to chill out.  “We have to go tell Pope and Kie!” “Okay, come on, let’s get going, I’ll drive you there now” JJ said, pulling her up to her feet, but before racing for the door, he wrapped his arms around her and spun her around in the air.

“I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it!” (y/n) cried out, giggling when he finally set her back down, and grabbed her hand before dashing for the front door.  “We’re going out tonight, baby!” She was so ecstatic, her body was practically vibrating.

He laughed, grabbing the keys to his dirtbike from the counter.

“Wait wait wait, JJ!” (y/n) called, her grip tightening on his hand as she pulled him back towards her.

“What? What is it?” He asked in a hurry, his eyes wild as he looked back at her.

She just grinned at him, before pulling him in closer, and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could kiss him.

She could feel his tenseness fade away, and when she smiled it broke their kiss.

“I love you too,” She told him, her smile brightening before she reached up and stole another kiss.  “And I’m glad you’re here with me, always”

“Well, we do live together, sweetheart,” He teased.  “But you know I’d never go anywhere else”

“I know,” She hummed, and leaned in to kiss him one more time.  “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, quit trying to distract me!”

(y/n) laughed as she followed him out the door, an overwhelming amount of delight flooding through her as she got on the back of JJ’s bike, rehearsing in her head what she wanted to say to their friends, and how impatient she was to see John B again.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[theglitterypages]

Secret Life of Gojo Satoru 2

Part 1

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x fem! Reader

Summary: What is the worst thing that could happen if you left the twins with their father?

Word Count: 1000+

~~~~~~~

“I'll be back soon okay? Behave with Dada, understood?” the twins just nodded their head and kissed your cheeks, when you flicked your eyes upwards you met Gojo's blue ones. “You know that I would always find out if you'll be feeding them tons of chocolate. No chocolates, or else you'll be sleeping at your room in Jujutsu High.” Gojo felt like his heart stopped beating, he knew that you're not lying, if there is anything he has learned in this marriage it is the fact that you never spat empty threats.

The first time you threatened him like this, he ignored it and still bribed the kids with sweets and when you found out, he did slept at his room in Jujutsu High, Yaga was laughing his ass off when he found out and he even mocked him of how he was the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the community but in the house you are the ruler, Gojo didn't mind it, he loves you so dearly and your toughness made him fall for you.

Gojo has a sweet tooth, it is because he has to keep on eating sweets because of his technique and even if you have a sweet tooth as well you wouldn't want your kids to have too much sugar and you have to remind Gojo over and over again that he shouldn't give them too much sweets, they have to learn to eat nutritious food and Gojo being Gojo, he uses the sweets to bribe the kids, that's why you were forced to teach him a lesson by letting him sleep in jujutsu high, much to Yaga's amusement.

With a pale face he picked up the twins and smiled at you sweetly, “No sweets for the kids today, got it Mama.” he told you and you laughed before kissing him on his cheeks, you heard him whine about how you missed his lips but you just stuck your tongue out. “You can have all the kisses later, Satoru but if you feed them sweets you should just kiss the wall.” Gojo dramatically looked at you and shook his head, “Then just give me one kiss right now, I need motivation baby.” the twins looked at their father with disgusted faces and when you were about to lean in to kiss Gojo, Akira cupped your face and kissed you instead.

Gojo never felt so betrayed in his whole life. He was about to lean in to kiss you but Akihiro pushed his face away before leaning towards you.

“Aww babies, I love you. Come here Hiro, let Mama kiss you.” Hiro giggled and gave you a kiss and you giggled at the two, “Better luck next time, Satoru.” you winked at your husband and went out of your house and you swear you could hear Gojo's whines about the kiss that he didn't get but you just laughed it off.

---

“Dada! We're hungry!” The twins told their father as they got tired of running around the house, so far Gojo is being able to manage to take care of the two and he felt relieved that they're not throwing tantrums as of now.

He pat their heads and stood up, “Alright, Dada will cook for you two. But you guys should behave. I'll turn on the TV, watch some cartoons and let Dada do the work is that okay?” the twins nodded their head in excitement and sat at the carpet on the living room while holding their toys, before Gojo left the living room to went to the kitchen he saw the twins held each other's hand as they watch. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, he decided to silently take a picture so he could show you later.

The twins are fond of fried chicken that's why Gojo decided to fry some but as he waits for the chicken to get cooked he heard a loud crash and he ran to see what happened and he was frozen at what he saw.

“Dada! Hiro broke the vase because he threw the ball!” Gojo's jaw dropped when he saw the vase, Hiro was pouting and glaring at his sister saying that she's not suppose to say what happened. Gojo immediately picked them up and made them sat at the couch as he clean the broken pieces of the vase, after making sure that it was all taken care of he looked at the twins.

Gojo is not that strict as a parent, he believes that his children should be guided in what they do not to be controlled on what to do and if they made a mistake they should learn from their own failures. But that's not the case with three year olds.

“Hiro, look at Dada.” he sat at the front of the two and gave them a smile to reassure them that he's not mad. “That vase is not really important because we can buy another but if something happened to you or to your sister, Mama and I would be upset because you two are our most valuable treasure. You were planning to clean your mess and hide it to Dada weren't you?” Gojo asked his son.

Akihiro looked at his tiny hands and sniffed, “Sorry Dada.” he whispered and Gojo cupped his face gently to make him look up at him, “Just promise you won't keep any secrets from Dada and Mama. Also, don't fight with Akira alright? You two should protect each other do you understand?” Hiro nodded his head and looked at his sister, he hugged her and kissed her cheeks. “Sorry, Kira.” Gojo smiled and ruffled their hair before standing up.

“Don't worry about the vase, I'll be the one to explain to Mama. Watch TV and wait for me to finish cooking.” he kissed their foreheads and went back to kitchen, thank goodness the chicken didn't get burned.

----

When Gojo finished cooking, he called the twins to the kitchen and made them sat on their designated chairs before he placed down their foods. “After eating, we'll take a bath. You two smell bad.” Gojo lied and the twins glared at him. “No! You are smelly Dada! Mama said we smell good!” he laughed as he saw the twins' noses turned red in annoyance, it's a thing that the two inherited from you, the only difference is that your whole face gets red every time you're annoyed.

It was cute and he loves that the twins got that trait from you, “Kira, don't be messy.” Hiro reached for a tissue and wiped his sister's mouth while Gojo watched them with a smile plastered on his lips, he can't believe these kids are his, he's thankful that he found a woman who was strong enough to stay with him and gave him two angels, he couldn't ask for more.

“Kids, look at here. Dada will send Mama a picture.”

The twins smiled at the camera and Gojo chuckled before sending them to you with a caption. “Our 12 rounds that night are worth it babe, look at our angels.” he knows he'll receive a smack for that caption but he'll cross the bridge when he get there.

As he had said, he have to give the twins a bath and they are both excited to take a bath so it wasn't a tough job for Gojo, “Dada you stink! Shower already!” Akira pinched her nose and frowned at Gojo, Hiro laughed and also started teasing his father. “That's why Mama didn't kiss Dada he smells bad!” Hiro splashed water to Gojo and Gojo gasped.

“Young man, you want a fight?”

“Kira help!”

The twins ended up giving their father a bath, Gojo was all wet and the kids are not yet done so he told them to settle down so he could finish and take a bath on his own.

After that, Gojo took them in their room and dressed them, he put some baby powder in their back and when they were all done he took the box of toys from the top of the cabinet so the twins could play in their room. “Stay here while I shower alright? Shout for Dada if you need something.” The twins are too busy playing to give him attention that's why they just gave him a thumbs up, Gojo shook his head with a chuckle before he ran to the bathroom and turn on the shower.

----

Akihiro got bored playing his toys and he poked his sister's arm. “This is not fun, let's play other things.” Akira frowned but agreed to her brother, “What are we gonna play though?” Akihiro looked around the room and his gaze landed at the pillow, he was planning on throwing it to Akira and have a pillow fight but whe he got closer to the pillows, he saw the big bottle of baby powder, Akihiro waste no time and turn the lid befor squeezing it.

Akira's face was so white because of the powder, she wiped away the powder on her face before glaring at her brother, Hiro giggled and run away, Akira looked around to search for the other bottle of baby powder since she knew they have so many of that and when she successfully saw one she climb on the chair and reach for the baby powder placed on the table. She climbed down the chair and removed the seal before squeezing it towards her brother's direction.

The floor became slippery because of the powder, the twins are falling around the room but they didn't mind it, instead they giggled every time they fall and as they keep on going, they ran out of baby powder.

“Mine's empty now, let me get another one.” Hiro told his sister before he climbed at the same chair where his sister climbed and took two bottles of baby powder giving the other one to Kira.

Their war resumed and at the exact moment, Gojo just got out of the shower, he could hear their giggles and he was about to smile but as he sense the trouble, he immediately ran and his knees almost gave in when he saw that the whole room is covered by powder.

“DADA!”

Gojo had to drop his infinity when the twins charged themselves towards him, the next thing he knew his face was now full of powder, the twins' giggles filled his ears and Gojo decided to laugh it off. “We're all so dead.” he wiped his face and looked at his children, being a mischievous dad that he is, he wiped his hands on their faces and the twin ran away from him.

The three of them ran inside the room, slipping from time to time, when Gojo finally caught the twins he carried them and shook them as an attempt to get rid of the powders, “Wow Dada is so strong!” Akihiro giggled while Kira held onto her Dad tightly, “Enough, enough, Dada too high, too high.” Gojo put them down in front of a full length mirror and he sat in between them, “Look at our faces. You think Mama will still love us?” the twins giggled and nodded their heads.

When you got inside the house the first thing you heard were giggles, as you follow the voices you stopped on the room of the twins and when you opened it you saw Gojo and the twins trying to get rid of the evidences of their mess.

Gojo's hair has never been whiter, he's not wearing any shirt and his whole body is full of baby powder. The twins? They're worse than that to the point that you couldn't even describe their apperances in words.

“Gojo Satoru.” you called your husband, your voice stern and your stare was blank.

And at that moment, Gojo knows that he fucked up.

[kingandfireheart]

The Lady of the Autumn Court: what the fuck is happening in Autumn (part 2)

As I said in my Eris Vanserra post, it seems that the Lady of the Autumn Court is a bigger piece to the Eris and Lucien puzzles.

We don't know what the fuck has been happening in the Forest House but we do the following:

The Lady of the Autumn Court is/was extremely powerful

Lucien (and to some extent Eris) are mama's boys (even though Lucien has been exiled for centuries)

The Lady met Helion before she was married to Beron

At least one of the seven brothers - Lucien - is Helion's child, but Helion saved the Lady after she had already had some kids (so Eris probably isn't his, even though they both have amber eyes)

The Lady chose to stay with Beron

Beron is aware of the affair between Helion and the Lady

Beron is physically abusive towards the Lady and had tortured Eris

Helion does not know Lucien is his heir, but Eris seems to know Lucien isn't Beron's son

Things that aren't mentioned below the cut, but are interesting:

Eris is the ringleader of the brothers, the commander of Beron's forces, and is Beron's most trusted son (the other three don't even have names)

In ACOWAR, Eris says has never denied Beron anything - except to save Lucien - but is angling for the throne and betraying him in ACOFAS and ACOSF (this reminds me of Lorcan betraying Maeve for her own good in TOG)

Beron wanted to kill Lucien for wanting to leave Autumn and marry Jesminda (this doesn't seem like a good reason if he isn't in line for the throne - or isn't part of their bloodline, but I guess Beron doesn't need a reason to be cruel)

Helion alludes to having trouble at home in ACOSF

The remaining unnamed brothers are all angling for the throne (this reminds me of the Khaganate in TOG and the Cruel Prince)

I got a little carried away with the color coding, but here's every major scene involving and discussing the Lady of the Autumn Court (and some breadcrumbs because I'm convinced SJM is purposeful in her writing)

Rhysand uses the Lady of the Autumn Court taunt Lucien in ACOTAR:

Rhysand’s venom-coated smile grew. “You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.” The color leached from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground. It was Tamlin who answered. “Put your sword down, Lucien.” Rhysand ran an eye over me. “I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you’d actually dabble with mortal trash.” My face burned. Lucien was trembling—with rage or fear or sorrow, I couldn’t tell. “The Lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her youngest son. If I were you, I’d keep your new pet well away from your father.”

The Lady of the Autumn Court also helps Feyre with one of her tasks:

A door clicked open somewhere down the hall, and I shot to my feet. An auburn head peered at me. I sagged with relief. Lucien— Not Lucien. The face that turned toward me was female—and unmasked. She looked perhaps a bit older than Amarantha, but her porcelain skin was exquisitely colored, graced with the faintest blush of rose along her cheeks. Had the red hair not been indication enough, when her russet eyes met mine, I knew who she was. I bowed my head to the Lady of the Autumn Court, and she inclined her chin slightly. I supposed that was honor enough. “For giving her your name in place of my son’s life,” she said, her voice as sweet as sun-warmed apples. She must have been in the crowd that day. She pointed at the bucket with a long, slender hand. “My debt is paid.” She disappeared through the door she’d opened, and I could have sworn I smelled roasting chestnuts and crackling fires in her wake.

Rhys (while wearing the mask of hte High Lord) uses her to taunt Lucien again in ACOMAF:

“Little Lucien,” Rhys purred. “Didn’t the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?”

“Prick,” Lucien snarled, storming past his sentinels, but not daring to touch his weapons. “You filthy, whoring prick.”

Lucien explaining how he was treated since Beron may suspect he's Helion's heir and as we know from Tamlin: future high lords have physical markers:

His jaw tightened. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.”

“I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.”

A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”

This may not relate to the Lady of the Autumn Court's relationship with Helion, but I'm gathering all the crumbs (why does Eris hesitate before calling his brothers brothers?)

“You hunted me down like an animal,” I cut in. “I think we’ll choose to believe the worst.”

Eris’s pale face flushed. “I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.”

Eris has no love for Beron (he literally asks Rhys to kill him), but he does seem to protect the Lady during the High Lord's Meeting:

“If you want proof that we are not scheming with Hybern,” Rhysand said blandly to them all, “consider the fact that it would be far less time-consuming to slice into your minds and make you do my bidding.”

Only Beron was stupid enough to scoff. Eris was just angling his body in his chair—blocking the path to his mother.

Helion and Lady of Autumn lock eyes:

The violence simmering off my friends was enough to boil the pool at our toes as the High Lord of Autumn filed through the archway, his sons in rank behind him, his wife—Lucien’s mother—at his side. Her russet eyes scanned the room, as if looking for that missing son.

They settled instead on Helion, who gave her a mocking incline of his dark head. She quickly averted her gaze.

The High Lords discuss the past war:

(also reminder: Eris has Amber Eyes like Helion)

Helion shrugged, the sun catching in the embroidered gold thread of his tunic. “Indeed, though it seems Tamlin is already ahead of me. The Spring Court must be evacuated.” His amber eyes darted between Tarquin and Beron. “Surely your northern neighbors will welcome them.”

Beron’s lip curled. “We do not have the resources for such a thing.”

“Right,” Viviane said, “because everyone’s too busy polishing every jewel in that trove of yours.”

Beron threw her a glare that had Kallias tensing. “Wives were invited as a courtesy, not as consultants.”

Viviane’s sapphire eyes flared as if struck by lightning. “If this war goes poorly, we’ll be bleeding out right alongside you, so I think we damn well get a say in things.”

“Hybern will do far worse things than kill you,” Beron counted coolly. “A young, pretty thing like you especially.”

Kallias’s snarl rippled the water in the reflection pool, echoed by Mor’s own growl.

Beron smiled a bit. “Only three of us were present for the last war.” A nod to Rhys and Helion, whose face darkened. “One does not easily forget what Hybern and the Loyalists did to captured females in their war-camps. What they reserved for High Fae females who either fought for the humans or had families who did.” He put a heavy hand on his wife’s too-thin arm. “Her two sisters bought her time to run when Hybern’s forces ambushed their lands. The two ladies did not walk out of that war-camp again.” Helion was watching Beron closely, his stare simmering with reproach.

The Lady of the Autumn Court kept her focus on the reflection pool. Any trace of color drained from her face. Dagdan and Brannagh flashed through my mind—along with the corpses of those humans. What they’d done to them before and after they’d died

After Nesta makes her speech:

She looked to Beron and his family as she finished. Only the Lady and Eris seemed to be considering—impressed, even, by the strange, simmering woman before them.

After Azriel attacks Eris:

Beron struck—only for his fire to bounce off a hard barrier of my own. I lifted my gaze to the High Lord of Autumn. “That’s twice now we’ve handed you your asses. I’d think you’d be sick of the humiliation.”

Helion laughed

---

Eris, wisely, averted his eyes. And said, “Apologies, Morrigan.”

His father actually gawked at the words. But something like approval shone on the Lady of Autumn’s face as her eldest son settled himself once more.

Thesan rubbed his temples. “This does not bode well.”

But Helion smirked at his retinue, crossing an ankle over a knee and flashing those powerful, sleek thighs. “Looks like you owe me ten gold marks.”

Feyre loses her shit:

Beron shielded barely fast enough to block me, but the wake singed Eris’s arm—right through the cloth. And the pale, lovely arm of Lucien’s mother.

---

The Lady of Autumn was clutching her arm, angry red splattered along the moon-white skin. No glimmer of pain on that face, though. I said to her as I reclaimed my seat, “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes lifted toward mine, round as saucers.

Beron spat, “Don’t talk to her, you human filth.”

Helion tells the story of the Affair:

Helion tapped a finger against the carved arm of his couch. “He played games in the War and it cost him—dearly. His people still remember those choices—those losses. His own damn wife remembers.”

Helion had looked at the Lady of Autumn repeatedly during the meeting. I asked, carefully and casually, “What do you mean?”

--

Helion’s jaw clenched. “The Lady of the Autumn Court was sent to stay with her sisters, her younger children packed off to other relatives. To spread out the bloodline.” He dragged a hand through his sable hair. “Hybern attacked their estate. Her sisters bought her time to run. Not because she was married to Beron, but because they loved each other. Fiercely. She tried to stay, but they convinced her to go. So she did—she ran and ran, but Hybern’s beasts were still faster. Stronger. They cornered her at a ravine, where she became trapped atop a ledge, the beasts snapping at her feet

--

Helion didn’t so much as shift in his chair. “She was still young—though she’d been married to that delightful male for nearly two decades. Married too young, the marriage arranged when she was twenty.”

---

But it was Mor who said coolly, “I heard a rumor once, Helion, that she waited before agreeing to that marriage. For a certain someone who had met her by chance at an equinox ball the year before.”

I tried not to blink, not to let any of my rising interest surface.

The fire banked to embers and Helion threw a half smile in Mor’s direction. “Interesting. I heard her family wanted internal ties to power, and that they didn’t give her a choice before they sold her to Beron.”

--

“How long did the affair last?” I asked. That withdrawn female … I couldn’t imagine it.

Helion snorted. “Is that a polite question for a High Lady to be asking?”

But the way he spoke, that smile … I only waited, using silence to push him instead.

Helion shrugged. “On and off for decades. Until Beron found out. They say the lady was all brightness and smiles before that. And after Beron was through with her … You saw what she is.”

“What did he do to her?”

“The same things he does now.” Helion waved a hand. “Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them.”

I clenched my teeth. “If you were her lover, why didn’t you stop it?” The wrong thing to say. Utterly wrong, by the dark fury that rippled across Helion’s face.

“Beron is a High Lord, and she is his wife, mother of his brood. She chose to stay. Chose. And with the protocols and rules, Lady, you will find that most situations like the one you were in do not end well for those who interfere.

I didn’t back down, didn’t apologize. “You barely even looked at her today.”

“We have more important matters at hand.”

“Beron never called you out for it?”

“To publicly do so would be to admit that his possession made a fool of him. So we continue our little dance, these centuries later.” I somehow doubted that beneath that roguish charm and irreverence, Helion felt it was a dance at all.

But if it had ended centuries ago, and she’d never seen him again, had let Beron treat her so abominably …

The Lucien Paternity Revelation:

While we spoke, I said down the bond, Helion is Lucien’s father. Rhys was silent. Then— Holy burning hell. His shock was a shooting star between us.

I let my gaze dart through the room, half paying attention to Helion’s musing on the wall and how to repair it, then dared study the High Lord for a heartbeat. Look at him. The nose is the same, the smile. The voice. Even Lucien’s skin is darker than his brothers’. A golden brown compared to their pale coloring.

It would explain why his father and brothers detest him so much—why they have tormented him his entire life.

My heart squeezed at that. And why Eris didn’t want him dead. He wasn’t a threat to Eris’s power—his throne. I swallowed. Helion has no idea, does he?

It would seem not.

The Lady of Autumn’s favorite son—not only from Lucien’s goodness. But because he was the child she’d dreamed of having … with the male she undoubtedly loved.

Beron must have discovered the affair when she was pregnant with Lucien.

He likely suspected, but there was no way to prove it—not if she was sharing his bed, too. Rhys’s disgust was a tang in my mouth. I have no doubt Beron debated killing her for the betrayal, and even afterward. When Lucien could be passable as his own of spring—just enough to make him doubt who had sired his last son.

I wrapped my head around it. Lucien not Beron’s son, but Helion’s. His power is flame, though. They’ve mused Beron’s title could go to him.

His mother’s family is strong—that was why Beron wanted a bride from their line. The gift could be hers.

You never suspected?

Not once. I’m mortified I didn’t even consider it.

What does this mean, though?

Nothing—ultimately nothing. Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helion’s sole heir

[the-obelisk]

By The Fire -- Fae Collection

Loki x Reader

Summary: Fireside conversations between you and the trickster.

“There you are. Where have you been?” You noticed Loki in the library/work station Tony had built for you after noticing the mess you lived. 

With all of your books being crammed in the corners of you room; And the the added mounds of paper Tony would see spread all over the common room, he was sick and tired of seeing it. 

Or worse, for him to have to deal with you asking FRIDAY a hundred times where you left your book or papers. And once Loki moved into the compound, you had even more access to a plethora of new books that he slowly moved into your library space. 

For the both of you, it was the place you often ran to for silence from the chaos that seemed to lurk the corridors of the compound.

“Loki?” You asked quietly noting that he sat on the floor, his book casually off to the side. Something about him felt off, therefore, you took a seat next to him on the floor and faced him slightly. 

“What happened?” 

He took a minute to respond. Sighing, he looked at you and just offered a weak acknowledgment. “I miss my home. As strange as it might seem, I miss being able to hide away.” You listened at his soft voice. His eyes turned back to the fire, “I miss my mother.”

You nodded. You knew very well that Loki was homesick. With his mother dead, there was no reason to return home. Asgard was no longer home to him. Instead, it was better he remained on Earth rather than his childhood realm. 

You wrapped your hand around his and leaned towards him, finding your other hand at the back of his neck. Your fingers ran softly through his hair, you projected emotions of comfort towards him. 

He smiled at the comforting presence you offered him. 

Loki looked at you, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. “Do you ever feel out of place, Y/N?” 

You looked at him, seeing the softness in his eyes made you want to wrap your arms around him and tell him to not feel so alone. “I do. When I am here— some of the times.” You spoke in a tone matching his own. 

He looked at you quizzically. It was a response, he didn’t anticipate. You seemed to flow so easily with everyone in the compound. Always talking and laughing with whomever you were in contact with. 

What he didn’t know was that you often wondered what you offered to the table for such an elite force of individuals. 

“How come?” He asked. Loki didn’t have the intention to open up, but it did comfort him knowing he wasn’t the only one that felt alone here. 

Or rather, the only one to tell him that they too felt out of place. 

You exhaled and shrugged. “I’m not like everyone else here— They all are experts at what they do. I’m still learning how to even use my powers, so I don’t excel like you or Wanda or even Vision. I can’t fight like Natasha or Cap.” You just pouted your lips and look at the fire.

“I try to make it my home, but this isn’t my home,” you sighed quietly, “It’s just an opportunity to help others while having the ability to learn more about myself, I guess.”

So with that, you trained in combat with Natasha, ran or sparred with Steve and Bucky, engaged in sparring lessons with your abilities with Wanda and sometimes, Vision. Then other times you found yourself in the lab trying to digest the scientific terms that spewed from Bruce’s lips and Tony’s demonstrations of his latest tech. Each one had a specific skill set, and when working with the others, created an dynamic force with the best of the best in their respective fields.

You wondered if you had anything to offer. You took to the artistic sides of life. Before being picked up by SHIELD for accidentally reading one of their agents thoughts— not to mention, an undercover one— you had worked as teacher, mentor, researcher. You wanted to understand the triumphs and pitfalls of humankind. Why they operated in their specific ways, how culture and religion shaped their motivations. You had questions, and when answered, you had even more questions develop.

And in many ways, you did the same with your team members. You were here to get it right, not be an expert. You wanted to know it all and even then, it became tiresome.

Loki peered into your thoughts, noting that you had once told Thor, during his visits back to earth, that it was hard to see what role you could play. You weren’t a fighter like the combat experts on the team, you weren’t a science geek-- you were simply you. Otherworldly, Y/N Y/L/N.

So what did you have to offer to the table?

Loki tuned out of your thoughts and smiled at you, “What did life look like before you got here?” 

Smiling at him, you turned back to face him. Now with your body shifted towards him, and fingers still twirling the ends of his hair. 

“I was a researcher, well— I guess I still am. I traveled to a bunch of places like Cambodia, Peru, Afghanistan, India, Madagascar. I wanted to learn their culture, and I offered help when I could. I usually worked in small villages to avoid the connection of my lack of aging. So, I worked with the locals there. They taught me their history— their way of life— and I would heal sometimes, help them with harvests, teach their children. It was peaceful, to say the least.”

Loki smiled at how your eyes lit up when recounting your brief account. He listened as you continued in tone filled with deep contemplation, “I often ask myself, why are there so many quarrels, and clusters of hate? Why were we created as we were and what is our meaning? I suppose because I never was able to learn about my own origin until Thor was able to give me further insight, that I finally received answers, but they didn’t answer my larger questions.”

“Why do you think you are here?” The raven-haired man asked entertaining her thought with deep interest at your words.

You quirked your eyebrow and laughed a little. “Perhaps to learn the lessons around me.”

“And what lessons would those be?” 

“To understand peoples’ actions. To listen and to help. But most importantly,” You said in a soft tone while looking at him, “to uplift those who are learning lessons of their own.”

He knew that your last point was directed towards him. He nodded, “And what lessons are you assisting me with, little one?” 

“Right now, redemption. Yours is to learn to forgive yourself and others. To simply, do better rather than apologizing and wishing to forget the past. You are facing it, something I admire you for. And one day,” You leaned a bit closer and gazed back into his blue orbs, “you will learn to love. Yourself, others, and hopefully, the world around us.” 

Loki nodded and could feel the devotion roll off your frame. “I think you are too kind for this world.” He said quietly. It felt more like an observation for himself, but still you acknowledged it.

Running your fingers through his hair, you nodded and hummed in response. “Always be kinder than you have to be. There is more to others than you think, trickster.” You lightly tease with a soft smile and empathetic eyes.

The raven-haired man looked at you dearly and raised his hand to you cheek. Loki leaned to lay a kiss on your cheek. “I am grateful for you, my little dove.” 

Instantly, you felt your nerves bundle in the pit of your stomach. To you, his touch seemed to ignite something within.

You ran your fingers through his hair one last time before resting your hand on his cheek. Pressing your forehead against his, you closed your eyes projecting another emotion— one of endearment that seemed to swirl within you towards him. 

“I am grateful for you as well, Loki.” Kissing his nose softly, you looked in his eyes unable to read the emotions but they felt warm and gentle. 

If Loki could have it his way, you could remain that close forever; However, he smiled at you and sat in the silence of it all with you. And sadly, soon he pulled back causing you to miss the cool touch of his forehead against yours. 

“Sit with me while I read?” 

You nodded in response as his hand left yours and slowly wrapped around your frame, pulling you closer to him. You positioned your back against his frame while he used the chair behind him as a back rest. 

“What have you been reading?” 

“A collection of poems from Vanaheim.” He spoke in a low tone as he held the book that hovered above your legs. His long legs laid outstretched around yours as you nodded at him to begin. 

He exhaled calmly, flipping through the pages and started, “This one seems like a good place to begin...”

You sat there reading along the words that flowed from Loki’s lips in an entrancing manner. You fell in love with the way he narrated the long, winded poem with ease and comfortability. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you were sure he had read this book thousands of times. 

But you didn’t seem to care if he had or hadn’t. You were consumed with his emotions of safety and happiness he felt in that moment. For you, that was enough. 

And for a little while, before the world would begin again, you enjoyed the quieted world that stemmed from his verbal inflection of the poems he read. Ones that created a mini-world between the two of you in the quiet library.

[mistersshelby]

removing the dagger

hi yes it's me, yes i know i haven't updated my masterlist in ages, yes i am aware i have an unfinished wip that i promised to post months ago, i'm just a stupid fanfic writer begging her audience to love her!!!! anyway!!! i have two other things in the works that I'm hoping to finish, but in the mean time this is one shot i based on ivy and tolerate it from taylor swift's album evermore. i hope you like it, i missed y'all!!! send me asks pls i'm lonely

pairing: tommy x reader

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

“We’ll be entertaining guests this weekend.”

You looked up from your breakfast plate in shock, wondering if your husband was addressing you or someone else. You gave the room a quick scan. No, it was indeed just you. “Alright.” You said hesitantly, “Who will be attending?”

He hadn’t looked up at you from his newspaper at the other end of the table. He felt miles away rather than a meter or two. “Just some business partners and their wives.” He finally looks up. You’re so unused to his direct attention you have to stop yourself from flinching away from his gaze, “You should go into town. Buy yourself a new dress.” Just as quickly as his gaze had met yours, he drops it again.

You draw your attention back to your breakfast plate, spreading butter on a scone before biting into it. “Do you need anything while I’m out, dear?”

“No thank you, love.”

The endearments don’t mean anything, this you know. It’s a formality. You’re husband and wife, and you speak to each other that way, but the words are empty. The truth is, day in and day out you watch him, you know all his routines. You hand him items before he can reach for them. Buy the book you know he’d been wanting for ages, but never got around to go to the store for. Refill the liquor cabinet before he can get to the bottom of a vodka bottle. And still. And still, he doesn’t see you. Not really. You leave the breakfast table to get ready to go into town and you know he won’t notice you’ve left until the maid clears your plate.

***

Another evening filled with pleasantries, pretty gowns, fake smiles. Men complimenting you and informing your husband how lucky he is to have such a beautiful, young wife. Your husband simply thanks them and doesn’t even look your way.

It’s not until he walks into the room that you feel you’ve been startled from sleep. He looks the same as you remember. There may be a few more lines around his eyes and mouth, but otherwise the same. Except now he looks like a walking weapon. That’s what the war had turned him into. You had kept tabs on him once you found out he had made it home from France, alive. The things you heard, the things this man that you used to love so dearly had done, well you suppose it didn’t surprise you. Tommy had always been too clever for his own good, almost too resilient. It made sense that France would have chewed him up and spit him out, kept most of the love and kindness he possessed.

But then his eyes find yours through the crowd and when he locks on you the same love and desire that had always been there, burns there now. No, the war couldn’t burn out his love for you. Your abandonment and consequential marriage that he read about in the paper couldn’t burn it out either. He’d love you until his dying day. And then he’s in front of you and words fail you, “Thomas,” You finally manage, “You… look well.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “It’s good to see you.” And he ever so gently lifts your hand and presses his lips to your skin. A chill runs through you and it takes all your effort not to snatch your hand away. His knowing grin tells you he’s noted his effect on you.

“And who are you?” Your husband interjects, noticing the affront that was greeting you before himself.

“Thomas, this is my husband, Benjamin.”

Tommy looks your husband up and down for longer than is polite before reaching his hand out to meet your husband’s, “A pleasure.” He murmurs.

“How do you know my wife, mister…”

“Shelby.” Tommy fills in for him, and then glances at you, “Your wife and I were--”

“Childhood friends.” You interject before he can finish and force a smile.

Tommy stares at you for a prolonged second before turning back to your husband, “Yes. Childhood friends.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Benjamin exclaimed, “You grew up in Oxford then, yeah?”

The confusion is evident on Tommy’s face so you jump in quickly, “Yeah! Both grew up in Oxford, isn’t that right, Tommy?”

Tommy looks annoyed at having to lie, but nods anyway, “That’s right.” He speaks with Benjamin for a few moments about business and you find yourself staring at him, the freckles on his cheeks you used to kiss so tenderly. His hair that you used to run fingers through. His eyelashes that used to tickle your skin when he fell asleep. His voice that used to whisper adorations in your ear while other women looked on with jealousy.

“I hope you won’t mind if I steal your wife for a dance, sir, I’d love to catch up with her for a moment.”

Benjamin gave him a disarming smile, a smile you hadn’t seen since he had courted you and it made your heart ache. He lifted his glass to Tommy, “She’s all yours.”

You managed a small smile as Tommy took your hand and led you to the center of the room. You could feel tears burning the back of your eyes at the familiarity of his touch. No one had touched you like this, well, since Tommy left Small Heath.

“Oxford, eh?” Tommy started, “What else did you have to lie about to become such an esteemed lady?”

You frowned, “I did what I had to do. It appears you did the same.”

He shakes his head, “I never lied about where I came from out of shame to achieve the lifestyle I wanted.” His voice is bitter, and you won’t lie, it stings coming from the only person who had made you feel like you were worth something.

“I’m not ashamed of Small Heath.”

“Everything about who you’ve married, to what you’re wearing, to the house you live in, to the lies about me suggest otherwise.”

“I didn’t lie about you because I was ashamed, Benjamin gets… jealous. It was just easier not to explain.”

“Does Benjamin have reason to be jealous?”

You looked into those blue eyes you had adored so long ago and saw the same longing and lust sitting there. Your lips part and you pause, trying to find the right words to convey that you were sorry for how things ended. That you wished things could have been different. But he senses your hesitation and his eyes go cold, those familiar walls that you had worked for years to tear down are back up in full force. You suppose it’s what you deserve.

“Forget it. Stupid question.”

“Tommy--”

“No, don’t. You’re obviously very happy here.”

And you realized as he said it that he was so incredibly wrong about that, “I’m not.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your eyes begin to water before you can stop them, “I’ve never been more unhappy in my life.”

Concern floods Tommy features, “Is he hurting you?”

You almost laugh, “No, no he’s never raised a hand to me. He’s never even raised his voice to me. He just… rarely remembers that I exist is all.”

“Well he’s an idiot then.” The corner of your mouth turned up just a bit at his crassness. “Can’t imagine having you walk around this house day in and day out looking like that and not giving you the attention you deserve.”

You have to bite down hard on your lip to keep the tears lodged in your throat at bay, “Do you have a smoke?”

He frowns, “I can’t imagine Benjamin allows a lady like you to smoke.”

“Tommy, please, he won’t even know we’re gone.” Sure enough, when you look over he’s immersed in conversation, “Come outside with me.” You tug on his arm before he can respond, weaving through guests who didn’t give you a second glance.

Once outside, you gulp in the cold air and lean against the stone wall behind you. Tommy joins a few seconds later, “Are you alright?” He asks as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his cigarettes.

“Can you tell me about Birmingham? What’s it like now?”

While you smoked, he talked about his family and the business. How Polly was doing, and Finn who you could still remember being born. Arthur and his anger problems. John and his relentless jokes. And when your cigarette was nothing more than a useless stub, you noticed there were silent tears rolling down your cheeks.

Tommy glanced at you and then dropped his own cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe, “Why are you here if it makes you so sad?”

The reason you had married Benjamin was because you had promised yourself you would never have to go hungry again. You would never have to worry about someone breaking in and slitting your throat for a loaf of bread. You wouldn’t have to stare at dresses in shops anymore knowing you would never have enough money for it. You never wanted any children you bore to feel that pain either. So you had done what you thought was needed to obtain this lifestyle and now that you were here, it didn’t feel the way you expected it to.

You can’t answer him and instead you look up at the sky and snow starts to fall on your face. “It’s snowing.” You announce to Tommy. He says nothing and you get the feeling he’s annoyed with you. “We had our first kiss in the snow. Do you remember?”

He scoffs and pushes himself off the wall, “I’m not playing your games tonight, I shouldn’t have come here.”

“And why did you come here?” You call after him as he walks away, “Why the fuck did you come, eh? To rub it in my face that I made the wrong decision?”

He turns back to you and he has that cocky smirk on his face, “Listen to that Birmingham accent. Does your husband know his lady’s got such a dirty mouth?”

You don’t know why this is the remark that does it, but you take a sharp intake of breath and your lungs shudder with sobs as the tears pour down your cheeks. The smirk falls from Tommy’s face and he reaches for you, but you pull away. “Love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Darling?” Your husband stands in the doorway and both you and Tommy freeze, “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death out there in the cold.”

You close your eyes for a moment, schooling your features before you respond, “I’ll be just a minute dear, Mr. Shelby was just leaving. I was seeing him off.” Every trace of the tears was gone from your voice. Tommy would be impressed if it didn’t mean that you had clearly needed to practice seeming happy and upbeat when you were breaking inside.

It’s so easy how quickly he loses interest, Benjamin, and turns back to go inside without another glance. “Why did you come here?” You ask Tommy again.

He sighs, “I had hoped that seeing you happy would give me the closure I needed. Unfortunately, seeing you choose misery over me has only made me feel worse.” He says bitterly. Your face crumples and he steps away from you, “Goodnight, my love.”

When he’s gone you wish to scream and cry and you hate him for coming here and shattering the glass walls you had built around yourself to tell you that you were fine. You were fine with your finery and your loneliness and the gin you drink when Benjamin isn’t home. How he ignores the smell of it on your breath. His deliberate silence when you know he can feel your cries shake the bed at night. You thought you had packed Tommy Shelby neatly away in the far corner of your mind where you wouldn’t find him again. Wouldn’t remember what it was like to feel loved. To feel alive. But you remember. And now he’s gone again. Just like when he left for France. Just like when you wrote that final letter to him that you were to be married.

And so you walk back into that house of stone. You murmur to Benjamin that you’re tired and you’ll be retiring early. And he just nods, barely hearing you, like he always does. And you settle into bed and stare at the wall as the house goes quiet. And finally the bed shifts with his weight and his breathing settles and he doesn’t reach for you. He never does.

Goodnight, my love.

***

The mud of the road squelches beneath your shoes and you're conscious of the way everyone in Small Heath stares at you, walking around like this, but you’d had no choice. No trace of your old wardrobe before you married Benjamin existed. He hadn’t allowed it. You didn’t want any reminders, anyway. Besides which, you had told Benjamin you were out for lunch with a friend and had dressed appropriately. When you swing open the door to the Garrison, you don’t see any Shelbys, but everyone stares at you nonetheless. You imagine word will travel fast to Tommy that you’re here.

Sure enough, as you finished your first drink, you heard the doors swing open and a hush fell over the occupants of the bar. You didn’t look up when he sat next to you. “What are you doing in my bar?” He said, his voice was demanding and cold.

“Having a drink.” You said as the bartender slid you another.

Tommy took it from your hand and dumped it on the floor, “Don’t give her another one.” He said to the bartender. “I asked you what the hell you’re doing here, don’t try my patience.”

“I was drinking that.” You said through clenched teeth.

“You’re drunk, you’ve obviously been drinking all day, surely Benjamin darling noticed that before he let you leave the house, eh?”

You turned to him, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, “I came here… Because you never told me… If you remembered our first kiss.”

He stares at you for a few moments, “You came all the way to Small Heath to ask me if I remember our first kiss?”

You blink, “Why are you just repeating what I just told you?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Yes, I remember it. Now will you go home?”

“I am home.”

“This isn’t your home anymore, you made sure of that.”

“How is what I did any fucking different from what you did? I married him to fuckin’ survive. That’s it. And you would’ve done the same in my place.” While you were talking you kept trying to get the bartender’s attention, but he was purposely ignoring you now, “Will you please tell your bartender to get me a drink?”

He leans in close to your ear and you still, “You could have married me. I could have given you everything if you had just waited.”

You turn your head to look at him and your lips are just inches from his, “I didn’t think you would come back, Tommy. So many men were dying every day, I didn’t think you would come back and I was running out of time to find someone else to marry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know if it’s the alcohol that makes you brave, but you lean into him just a little bit and he doesn’t move away. So you close the distance between you.

The kiss is quick, and you pull away to gage his reaction. But his eyes only dart from yours back down to your mouth before his fingers graze your chin and gently pull you to him again. You can’t believe how alive it makes you feel to be kissed, really kissed, by someone who wants you.

“You’re drunk.” Tommy says finally, pulling away.

“So what?”

“So you wouldn’t be cheating on your husband if you weren’t drunk.”

You snort, “I would do just about anything to feel the way you made me feel again.”

He shakes his head at you, “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. So, what? You’re just going to have an affair with me and I’m supposed to be satisfied with that?”

“What do you suppose we do instead?”

“Leave him and marry me.”

He’s so sincere, and for a moment you allow yourself to think that you could. “You know I can’t do that.” You say quietly.

He nods and lowers his head, “Then I’m not sure how I can help you, Mrs. Davies.”

His use of your married name feels like a blow, “I know you feel the same as I do when we kiss, isn’t it worth it just for that?”

“I don’t do well with sharing.” He practically snarled in your face.

“I��m his in name alone. You own me, body, soul, and spirit, Tommy. You always have.”

Suddenly, he straightens as if he’s just now realized where he is. “Come with me.” He says quickly, sharply. You practically run after him and when you get outside, you see his horse. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“Where are you taking me?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you ever just listen to me for once?” And without asking permission, lifted you up by your waist enough to get you on the saddle. When he comes up after you, you hesitate before wrapping your arms around his waist to keep yourself steady. It reminds you so vividly of just a few years earlier, you allow yourself to sink into the memories. It doesn’t take you long to realize he’s taking you to your old haunt. An abandoned house in the middle of the woods, overgrown with ivy.

“Why are we here?” As he helps you down from the horse, your faces nearly collide as your feet touch the ground. He seems to want to kiss you, but holds back.

“I waited here for you for days when I got back.” He says, walking away from you and towards the house. “When you stopped sending me letters, I had a feeling you had changed your mind, but I still hoped.”

You blink, “You never got my letter?”

He turns back to you, now leaning against a half demolished wall, “Did you send me a letter to tell me you were marrying that wanker? I honestly thought it was kinder that you hadn’t.”

You swallowed, “Yes, I sent you a letter.”

“And what did it say?”

You sigh, suddenly you’re frustrated with him, “That was years ago, Tommy, can’t we move on?”

He laughs, but it’s cold, “For you it was years ago, I’ve been living in this hell you left me in ever since. I didn’t get to move on to palaces and dinner parties and expensive champagne. I came back here and started another war, all in the hopes that one day I could provide for you and you would come home. And all the while you’ve been sleeping in another man’s bed.”

You look down at your feet. You understand the anger and the resentment he holds. After all, you knew when you sent that letter if he survived the war he would never forgive you. But here he was, some sort of dark, fallen angel, standing in front of you. Spreading over you again like ivy, the same way he had when you were younger. “I know I can’t take back the pain I’ve caused,” He was already scoffing and turning away from you, “But I’m here now. And so are you. And all I know is that being with you again makes me feel something and I haven’t felt anything since I sent out that letter.”

“So just like that, you think everything’s fixed?” He storms up to you, trapping you against the wall behind you. “You think you can just pop back in, say you’re sorry, and everything’s all better?”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed with his display of anger, “Of course not, Tommy, I’m not stupid.” You reach your hand out and delicately trail your fingers down his chest, “I just think… That it’d be a shame to deny each other what we both want.”

Without warning his hand clamps around your wrist and slams it against the wall behind you. It doesn’t hurt, really, but he did catch you off guard so you wince anyway.

He leaned forward until his lips brushed your ear, “Who said you could touch me without explicit permission?”

A chill went down your spine at the sound of his voice and you find yourself smirking, “Don’t need permission to touch what belongs to me.” You still know exactly what to say to piss him off.

He shoves you against the wall again, “You think this is fuckin’ funny, eh?” He leans down to look you eye to eye, “Am I laughing?” He pushes himself off the wall and turns away from you, “Always a fuckin’ joke to you.”

“Tommy, I thought… I’m sorry, I thought we were teasing--”

He rounds on you, “I don’t fuckin’ joke when it comes to you, do you understand? None of this is funny to me. It may be all a big joke to you with your fancy house and your upper class husband, but I lost the one thing in my life that had value and I don’t think it’s fuckin’ funny for you to shit all over the marriage that you thought was good enough to abandon me for in the first place!”

It’s all so absurd you nearly snort, “Do you think this is fun for me? Do you think I like living with the knowledge that I gave up the love of my life for someone who is rarely home, and when he is home doesn’t even spare me a second glance? My husband hasn’t kissed me in six months.”

“And so now you think you can have both?”

Tears shine in your eyes as you gaze up at him, “Can’t I?”

You can see the internal battle going on behind his eyes, caught between wanting you and not being able to truly have you. You knew he would give in to you, though, and maybe you felt a little guilty about that but you couldn’t afford to let your mind go there. You just needed someone to touch you, someone to really, truly desire you.

And Tommy gave in. He pushed you against the wall again, his mouth finding your mouth in a lust-filled frenzy. You moan in equal parts surprise and delight as his hands roam your body, pulling you up until your legs wrap around his waist, back firmly pressed to the wall.

You might pay for this sinful offense against your marriage one day, but today you will simply relish the way Tommy tastes.

***

“You’re quiet this morning.” Benjamin notes a week later during breakfast. “Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I heard you say a word. Is everything alright, darling?”

You look up from your plate where you had been pushing your egg around aimlessly and force a smile, “Everything is perfect, darling, why shouldn’t it be?”

He watches you closely for a moment, miles away on the opposite end of the dining table. You don’t believe he’s watched you like this since courting you. Then, in a flash, the moment is broken and he returns to his paper, “We should have dinner, just you and I. I have that business trip coming up and I’d like to spend some time with you before I go.”

You try not to narrow your eyes too deliberately at him. A proper lady never thinks too hard about her husband’s motives, she just acts delighted to be considered. But this was unlike him and you would find out why. “That would be lovely, dear.”

***

Your arm rests delicately on Benjamin’s as he takes you inside the restaurant he had made reservations in. He was going on and on about the lobster and how you should get one too and what drink to pair it with and it was all so fucking boring your eyelids grew heavy with sleep. You hadn’t seen Tommy since that day at the abandoned house.

Afterwards, he had taken you on the horse until you were a mile away from the house and insisted on being dropped there.

“I can take you further, he won’t see me.”

“It’s alright, Tommy. I like the walk.”

He had hopped off his horse with you and cradled your face in his hands, kissing you goodbye, “I’m still upset with you.” He said and kissed you again, harder. He bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to make you yelp, “This doesn’t change anything.”

But it changed everything, hadn’t it? For you, at least. You understood Tommy’s anger and resistance though. Maybe this would be the only taste of him he’d ever allow you again while you rotted away in that mansion of stone. “I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage, your foreheads still pressed together, before lightly pushing yourself off him and walking down the road without looking back.

Eventually, you heard his horse walk away and you did your best not to cry.

“Darling?” Benjamin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. The two of you now sit at a small table in the corner. You’re buttering a roll absently, you couldn’t remember picking up the bread. “Darling, are you alright? I’ve been asking you to pass the butter.”

“Yes,” You said, reaching across the table with the butter dish in hand, “I’m sorry, my mind ran away from me.”

“And what were you thinking about?” He asks, taking the butter from you.

You blink, shocked that he would ask you such a thing, “Sorry?”

“What’s got your mind so occupied that I can’t seem to keep your attention?” He smiles when he says it and you realize he’s… teasing you.

“Oh, it’s nothing darling, I was just thinking about a dress I wanted to buy. I’m sorry that I wasn’t listening to you.”

He sighs greatly and for a moment you’re scared. Somehow he knows. He must know, otherwise-- “I realize that I haven’t been the best husband as of late. I don’t know what you spend your days doing, what you like, what you don’t like. I don’t kiss you in the morning or the evening when I come home from work--”

You’re shaking your head, “Benjamin--”

“You’ve been the perfect wife. Taking care of the house and entertaining guests, going out to the shop when I need something even if I haven’t asked. And I’ve ignored you. Aren’t you angry with me?”

Your eyes water and you sit back in your chair, looking down at your lap. Taking a breath you look back up at him, “You’re my husband.” You shrug, “I do what I must even if I don’t get anything in return.”

He hesitantly covers your hand with his own, “I’ll be better. I promise.” He sits back, “That friend that you went to lunch with the other day, what was her name?”

The fear returns all over again as you lightly dab at your eyes, “Martha, she’s a friend from Oxford.” The lie comes easily, too easily.

“Is she married?” Before you can answer, his eyes light up, “Oh! She must be that gentleman’s wife, the one who was at the party last week. Shelby, I believe his name was.”

Slowly, you nod, “Yes, that’s right. Martha’s husband is Thomas.”

“You should invite them for dinner, after my trip!”

Oh, fuck. “Oh, Benjamin, that’s so sweet of you dear, but you don’t have to--”

“I do.” He covers his hand with yours again, “I want to learn more about you. Your friends. What better way to do that than get to know the people you grew up with?”

You force a smile, “That sounds lovely.”

He smiles back, “It’s settled then! You iron out the details while I’m away and then just let me know which evening, alright, dear?”

“Of course.” You say, still forcing that smile. How the fuck were you going to get out of this one?

***

“Are you out of your mind?” You had summoned Tommy yet again by drinking at the Garrison and he had stormed in here ready to toss you over his shoulder and kick you out himself. But you had managed to get him to share a drink with you and you told him your new predicament.

“Well, yes, but that’s hardly the point.” He looks so annoyed with you, you almost laugh, “Please, Tommy. I’ll never bother you again.”

He snorts, “Yeah, that’ll be the day.” He knocks back the rest of his whiskey and then pushes the glass to the bartender, signaling for another, “This is really what you want?”

You bite your lip, “He seems sincere. Like he really wants to try.”

“But do you love him? Do you love him the way you love me?”

No. There would never be a love for you like Tommy. You look down at your hands. Either way you answer, Tommy will be hurt. But at least this way he could go on thinking that you’re happy. That you don’t need him. Maybe this way he’d fall in love with somebody else. The thought sent daggers through your heart, but you knew you had no one to blame for that but yourself. He should be happy, he deserved that. “Yes.” You lied.

His eyes shuttered and he looked away from you, “Alright. I’ll help you, then.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you.”

“Now get the hell out of my bar.”

You manage a small smile and nod, sneaking out without another word.

***

The door buzzed and you nearly smiled, “That’ll be the guests, darling.” You moved behind Benjamin, squeezing his shoulder as you passed, “I’ll get it.”

When you opened the door and saw Tommy standing there with a tall, beautiful woman, you couldn’t deny the hurt that rushed through you. You had asked him to bring someone, you reminded yourself, you had told him he needed to bring a fake wife.

You step aside to let them through, “It’s good to see you, Tommy. Martha. Come in.”

“Your home is so lovely,” The woman said. You weren’t sure if you just felt like she was staring daggers at you or if she was. How much did this woman know of you and Tommy? Just from the way she looked at Tommy, you could tell she had feelings for him. He had probably fucked her at some point. You ignore the painful tightening of your stomach at the thought. Tommy, for his part, seemed bored by her.

“Thank you.” You gestured for the maid to take their coats and you couldn’t help the way your breath caught as Tommy took his off. Then his hat. And his gloves. Those hands and those rings and-- You looked from his left hand to hers. They were wearing wedding rings. You supposed it shouldn’t have surprised you, they were supposed to be married. But the sight painfully stole all the breath from your lungs. You wondered if this was how Tommy felt when he saw you. You turned away from it and guided them into the drawing room, immediately going to get a drink while Benjamin bored them with talk of business.

You didn’t expect for it to hurt so much, seeing him with someone else. Even if they were just fucking, you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you stumbled into the kitchen. The kitchen staff ignored you as you braced your hands on a table, looking down at it and trying to catch your breath. They were used to you having breakdowns here. The staff liked you because you treated them like people when Benjamin wasn’t around. When he was on his trips, you’d invite them all to eat with you in the dining room and they were some of the most fun dinners you’d had since marrying Benjamin. So they let you cry in here and didn’t speak a word of it.

When the kitchen doors open abruptly, you stand immediately, expecting Benjamin, but it’s Tommy who stands there instead. “What are you doing back here?” You asked with annoyance.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, and you hate the concern that floods his face.

“You shouldn’t be back here, Benjamin might come looking for me--”

“I told him I would go look for you, he seems quite charmed by Lizzie, he won’t come looking.”

“So her name’s Lizzie then? She’s lovely.”

He’s quiet a moment, “So you’re sulking in here because I brought another woman here, something you asked me to do.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“We should go back out there,” You begin to walk around him, but his hand clasps on your upper arm and pulls you back.

“Does it hurt? Knowing I’m fucking someone else?” He whispers in your ear.

Tears sting your eyes and you realize he’s done this on purpose. He wanted to hurt you. You look up into those ice blue eyes to show him yours that are shining with tears, “Are you happy now?” You wrenched your arm from his grasp and left the kitchen, putting on a smiling face as you left.

Tommy watches you closely for most of the evening and you think that normally Benjamin might notice his predatory gaze, but Tommy was right. He’s enamored by Lizzie. They share touches and longing glances, even when you place your arm on top of Benjamin’s to signal that he’s yours. He just pats your hand and draws his arm out from under yours all without looking away from Lizzie. So when Tommy excuses himself for a smoke, you follow him out, not even bothering to excuse yourself.

“Ol’ Benjamin is really giving it his best shot with you, eh?” Tommy says immediately when you walk outside. You don’t say anything, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your anger. “Can’t say I blame him,” He continues, “Lizzie’s a great fuck.”

You close your eyes, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what am I doing, love?” He makes the endearment sound condescending and you hate him for that.

“You’re trying to get me angry so I’ll admit that I lied to you about loving Benjamin.”

“I saw the way you looked at the wedding rings when I took off my gloves,” He inhales on the cigarette in his hand, “I don’t need you to say it.”

“Then what, you’re just rubbing it in because you’re a sadistic fuck?”

“So you are angry, then.”

“Yes!” You threw up your hands in exasperation, “Yes, I’m fucking angry that I thought maybe Benjamin did love me only to see him touch and look at that woman in there more than he’s touched me in over a year! And I’m fucking angry that you are also fucking her! I’m jealous, I’m fucking burning with how jealous I am that she gets to touch you and I don’t! Is that what you want to hear, you fucking prick?!”

God help you, he has a cool smile on his lips, “Yes, sweetheart. That’s what I wanted to hear. Would you like to go make your husband terribly jealous?” He reaches a hand out to you.

You’re frowning at him and you shake your head, “I don’t understand.”

“Sure you do, I’m helping you get what you want.”

“But why?”

He lowers his hand, “Do you want the truth or the lie?”

You swallow, “Truth.”

He brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek, “Are you sure? It’ll break your heart.” He says softly.

You smile sadly and bring his hand to your chest, right above your heart. Your eyes glitter with unshed tears as you look at him, “Already broken.”

You almost miss his sharp intake of breath at your admission. You suppose he’s happy, happy that you were in so much pain after shattering his heart. “So?” You say.

“The truth is that,” He swallows, “The only thing that hurts me more than you not being mine is seeing you so fuckin’ sad. So let me help you.” You look up at him with those big sad eyes that practically scream at him how much you love him. He can’t stand to look another second, “Come on.” He offers you his hand again.

You place your small hand in his and he brings you back inside, not even dropping your hand as you pass your husband and Lizzie who are looking even cozier than when you left. He brings you to the drawing room in view of the dining room and finally drops your hand to go to the gramophone.

You feel Benjamin’s eyes on your back, but you don’t turn, focusing on Tommy.

A smile breaks out on his face, “I knew you’d have it.”

He holds up a record that the two of you used to listen to so often, you had had to replace the record a couple years back. A small smile forms on your lips, “Tommy, are you sure?”

When the two of you were together, you had taken a dance class together, mostly as a joke, but then you surprised yourselves when you had so much fun with it. Soon, you were choreographing dances together and Tommy was spinning you around that abandoned house. It seemed lifetimes ago and you couldn’t believe that the man who went to France and came back ready to kill any man standing in his way would still know or want to dance with you like when you were barely adults. But he’s beaming at you now, hand extended and the song is starting.

Biting your lip to hide your smile, you curtsy to him before taking his hand and he did a slight bow in response. And then he’s whisking you around the room. You can tell he hasn’t done this in a while and neither had you, but as the song picks up you lock eyes with him. You hadn’t seen him this happy since before the war. The sight sends such a thrill through you, you laugh, and suddenly you’re both in sync.

The weight of both Benjamin’s and Lizzie’s stares nearly break you, “It’s just me and you,” Tommy whispers, noticing how the light had dimmed from you just a little, “Focus on me.” And you do, losing yourself in the music and Tommy’s touch. Tommy dips you, your head falling back and upside down, you can see Benjamin and Lizzie, their eyes on you just like you thought. Tommy pulls you back up and you nearly crash into his chest as the song ends. He clutches your hand to him and your foreheads nearly touch as you both breathe hard.

There’s footsteps behind you and you turn to look to Benjamin, a smile still on your face, and his hand collides with your cheek. There’s only silence for a few seconds and it takes you all of those seconds to realize that Benjamin has hit you and before you’ve reached that conclusion, Tommy’s fist is already connecting with Benjamin’s jaw.

“Stop, stop.” You reach for Tommy to pull him off your husband, “Tommy, that’s enough!”

He had only punched Benjamin twice before you were able to pull him off and then he’s looking at you, “Are you alright?” There’s such concern in his eyes, he even brings his hands up to your face, eyes darting back and forth to assess the damage.

But your husband is still here so you push him away, “I’m fine, you should go.”

He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, “I won’t leave you with him.” He says quietly enough that you’re sure you’re the only one who heard him.

“Yes you will.” You look at him with cold, calculated calm. Your husband is still lying on the floor with stupid Lizzie coddling him, “You both should go.” You repeat.

Tommy is still staring at you and Lizzie has risen from where she was crouching next to your husband, placing a hand on Tommy’s arm, “Thomas, let’s go.”

You hate the familiarity of the touch, you’re able to tell she’s done it several times before. “Listen to your wife.” You say bitterly and that ice in his eyes is back. He simply backs away from you, Lizzie pulling him out the door.

“You humiliate me.” Benjamin says, now sitting upright and dabbing at blood at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. It gives you sick satisfaction that Tommy had made him bleed.

“You humiliate yourself.” You say coldly.

“You danced with him like… Like you were some whore.”

You flinch at the insult, “I told you I knew him from Oxford, we took ballroom together. We were simply reminiscing.”

“You think me an imbecile,” He chuckles, “I saw the way you looked at each other. You’ve never once looked at me like that.”

Now you laugh and the sound makes him flinch, “Benjamin, when we met I looked at you like the sun and the moon set on your command, do not insinuate otherwise.” Your voice shakes with anger, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to touch and talk to me the way you talked to Tommy's wife all goddamn night. That’s why I danced with him. I wanted to make you jealous, I didn’t think you’d hit me.”

He’s shaking his head, “That doesn’t change the fact that you once bedded that man and then brought him into my house.”

You stare at him blankly, “If I recall correctly, you were the one who invited him here. And I daresay, Benjamin, with the way you were with his wife I have no doubt what you do on those business trips. I will not be made the villain when all I’ve done is begged for your love from day one.” He looks away from you at that and you relish how you’ve made him submit to you after being submissive for so long, “I’m going to bed, you’re welcome to wallow here in your weakness if you’d like.”

***

Tommy drives in silence with Lizzie next to him, quietly fuming. He has half a mind to turn around and drag you from that house himself, but he knew you’d never forgive him for that. “Was a bit daft to dance with her like that in front of her husband, don’t you think, Tom?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, the only indication of his agitation, “Was a bit daft to flirt with her husband in front of her for three straight hours, don’t you think, Lizzie?”

“He advanced on me--”

“No,” Tommy’s shaking his head, “No, don’t give me that bullshit. You knew what she meant to me and you went in there to purposely hurt her. Well congratu-fucking-lations Lizzie, you won.”

“As if you didn’t enjoy seeing her hurting after she left you.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know.” He said dangerously.

“Fine, Tommy,” She says, slumping in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest, “Let her destroy you again, went so well for you the first time.”

He doesn’t respond as he knows there is some truth to what Lizzie is saying. He would let you destroy him again, he would give you his last breath if that was what you wanted.

***

When you wake the next morning, Benjamin is gone. The maid told you he left in the early hours of the morning and handed you a note.

I know what he is and I know what you are. Don’t be here when I return.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Who had told him? How had he figured it out?

The answer was obvious. It had to have been fucking Thomas, trying to force your hand after you refused to leave with him. You crumpled the note and ran back upstairs to get dressed. You figured you had a few days until Benjamin came home, maybe you could still sort it out. The first order of business was going to yell at Tommy.

***

When he sees you walking down the streets of Small Heath looking murderous, he wonders what he’s done. Maybe this is a response to the previous night, but you hadn’t seemed homicidal when he left you.

“What the fuck did you tell him?” You greeted him by shoving him against the nearest building. He raised his arms in bored surrender, not wanting to cause a scene, but you didn’t seem to care about that, “Did you turn around and come back and tell him everything? Do you think I’ll run off with you now that I have nowhere to go?” Tears run down your cheeks now and he frowns in concern, “Well I won’t. I’m fucking done with you, Thomas Shelby. I don’t care if I have to beg on the streets--”

“What are you talking about?” He interjects finally. You look him over, eyes darting over his face and you can see there’s genuine confusion there. He didn’t do this.

Rubbing at your eyes, you sit on the nearest surface, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, “He knows who you are. Which means he knows who I am. He’s kicking me out.”

He gently puts a hand on your elbow, “Come inside. Please.”

For once, you let yourself be guided. He brings you inside the building that says Shelby Company Limited on the outside and then suddenly the rest of the Shelby family is staring at you.

“Tommy,” Polly says softly, staring at you with a hand on her heart, “You told us she was dead.”

You blink and then turn to Tommy who won’t look at any of you, “She was.”

Tommy Shelby had told his whole family that you were dead rather than go through the humiliation of explaining that you had left your old life behind in favor of another. Left him behind. You supposed, in a way, you had died.

Polly’s gaze drifts to your hand where you’re fiddling with your wedding ring. “Oh, Tommy. Tell me you haven’t killed someone’s husband.”

“Not yet,” The words send a jolt through you, “Stay here.” He orders, squeezing your shoulder.

“Tommy, wait,” He turns back to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to kill him before he ruins you and then you’ll have your pick of any lord you’d like. Maybe one of them will actually love you this time. Isn’t that what you want?”

It feels like a dig though you’re not sure he meant it to be one, “No.”

Sensing the energy in the room, the rest of Tommy’s family dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

“What d’ya mean ‘no’?” There’s a bit of anger in his voice, “You don’t want to be with me, you don’t want to be a lady anymore, are you gonna live on the streets?”

“For your information, Thomas, if I wanted I could make a living for myself,” He scoffs. “But you’re wrong.”

“About what?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes glittering with tears, “I do want to be with you.” After finally uttering the words, you brace yourself for rejection.

He stares at you and then rubs a hand over his face. He begins shaking his head, “You don’t mean that.”

You walk to him and reach your hands up to frame his face. You expect him to move away from your touch, but he doesn’t. When you gently stroke his face with your thumbs he closes his eyes and you truly understand how you had broken this man in front of you, “I do,” You say again, “And I’m sorry for ever making you think you didn’t deserve me.”

Finally, he does push your hands away and walks to the window on the far side of the room, his back to you, “I still want to kill him.” He says softly.

You frown, “Tommy--”

“If you weren’t in that room last night I would have kept punching and kicking and gouging his eyes out with my bare hands for daring to put a hand on you.” His voice is dangerously low, “Is that still the kind of man that you want?” He finishes bitterly.

He would kill a man for you. The thought sends a thrill through you. “I’ve spent the last few years of my life with a man who didn’t even attempt to learn my favorite type of jam, Tommy, do you understand?”

“It’s strawberry.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

He finally turns to you, “Your favorite jam, it’s strawberry. I used to wait in line for hours in the summer when strawberries were in season to get some for you.” He smiles a bit to himself at the memory, “It was always worth it for the smile and kiss on the cheek you gave me.”

Tears finally cascade down your cheeks as you recall the memory, “I’d forgotten about that.” You say softly, “Tommy, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”

“You told me minutes ago that you wouldn’t run off with me, that you were done--”

“I know,” You say, “That’s when I thought you had betrayed me, that you wanted to force me to be with you--”

“I would never force you to be with me.” He says fiercely, “I would never force this life, this fuckin’ hell, on anyone.”

You shake your head, “I know what you’ve become since you came home. Knowing all of that, knowing what you’re truly capable of, I still choose you. I know you’re my only chance of real happiness.”

He stares at you for another few moments, “So you’ll marry me, then? The whole bit?”

You smile, “I imagined this whole bit to be much more romantic, but yes, I’ll marry you, Thomas.”

“You can’t change your mind once Benjamin comes back, it’s me or you figure out your own way.”

“I’m not choosing you because of the money. I’ve had the money, all it did was make me miserable.”

He steps to you and runs a thumb over your lips, “You’re really mine then, eh?”

“You know,” Familiar mischief lights up your eyes, “Benjamin won’t be back for a few days… What do you say we drink his expensive wine straight from the bottle and fuck on every surface we can.”

Tommy finally cracks a smile, “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

You laugh and go up on your toes to kiss him. He immediately dips his head to you, breathing you in deep as he kisses you. His tongue slides along your lip until you open to him, awarding him with a soft moan. His tongue strokes against yours and you feel hot need for him pooling between your thighs when he pulls away.

He relishes the pout on your face at his absence, “Save it for Benjamin’s bed, princess.” He smirks and tugs you out of the building, lifting you onto your horse. And as he rides, your arms wrapped around his waist, you only wish you had had the wisdom to choose Tommy Shelby first.

[lovehotelreservation]

Praise Be

Summary: With The Firmament’s imminent debut on top of so much more, all Aymeric wanted to do was to enjoy and indulge this night with you, the mother of his dearest son.

Or rather, as you had come to cheekily reveal.

The mother of his dearest children.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Plus-Size F!Reader/Aymeric

Sequel to “Belle of the Ball”

YEEEEHAW TIME TO CAP OFF THIS ROUND OF COMMISSIONS WITH MY FAVORITE DRINK OF CHOICE: ISHGARDIAN MILKIES 💦💦

THANK YOU AGAIN TO MY LOVELY COMMISSIONER AND I HOPE YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE HAVE ENJOYED READING ALL THE FICS FROM TODAY!!!

UNTIL NEXT TIME~!!!

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It was a night to indulge.

The fireplace crackled with flickering red and orange flames, filling the lounge  room of Borel Manor with much needed heat to deal with Ishgard’s neverending winter.

Though, even without the kindled fire, there was enough warmth within Aymeric’s chest to keep him immune to the cold for days to come.

Especially when tonight would be dedicated to just him and you, his most beloved wife.

It was a much needed break.

As the current Speaker of the House of Lords, his work was endless. Though he was happy to serve his revered home, there was only so much delegation and meetings that a single soul could bear to take, especially with The Firmament having reached completion and with its full public unveiling on the horizon.

While he was thankful for the work that Francel had done under his watch, as Ishgard’s main representatives, he was due to traverse across Eorzea and formally invite leaders and ambassadors for the official debut of the newly developed residential area.

And so his paperwork continued to pile up while his eyebrows furrowed all the more.

Though, as much laborious work that he had been doing, surely nothing could even come close to what you had to bear the burden of.

Your duty as the Warrior of Light carried a responsibility that made his duties and obligations look like the schoolwork of a mere child.

However, unless absolutely crucial, the brisk rate of your work as Eorzea’s savior had thankfully slowed in the midst of the current peaceful lull that the entirety of the realm was enjoying.

For in the year since past, the two of you had welcomed your most darling blessing of all.

With eyes and hair that mirrored his own yet with a nose and smile that were unmistakably yours, it had been a year since the arrival of your son, Nicolas, and Aymeric couldn’t have been more in love with you as you granted him the gift of fatherhood that he had wanted so dearly.

The few precious days that granted leave of his duties to be with you and your newborn were something he constantly looked back to fondly. Nestled by your side, your head on his shoulder while he cradled Nicolas with absolute loving care, only ever wanting to relinquish hold of your son over to you so he could attend to any of your needs.

It was heaven.

And while duty eventually called for his return to his office, nothing soothed his soul more than returning home to be greeted by you, a kiss shared between you both before the soft babbles of Nicolas would catch his ears and have him immediately scooping his beloved son into his arms.

Earlier today was no different.

Though, upon returning home from the Congregation of Our Knights Most Holy, Aymeric was greeted by the dutiful servant of Borel Manor, who noted that you had already taken off to the chirurgeon for your monthly check-up. 

He did not think too much about this after thanking the servant for the update while he headed over to Nicolas’s nursery to greet and spend time with his son.

After all, he was already aware of your appointment, your absence of providing him enough time to prepare for tonight’s proceedings.

And now, after having tucked Nicolas in for bed, there was a fond look in Aymeric’s deep ocean blue eyes while he continued to inspect the wine bottle currently in his hands as he stood in the center of his lounge room.

The finest bottle from Wineport, a pair of gorgeously ornate wine glasses paired with a delectable display of chocolates on a table, the crackling fireplace, along with petals and blossoms of your favorite flowers decorated all throughout the lounge room.

His attention turned towards the sofa, noting its spaciousness just moments before his lips curled into a small but utterly pleased grin.

Tonight would be one to truly indulge.

There was simply one missing vital component to complete the scene, one that eventually made itself known with the knock on the door that ignited a jolt of anticipation through him.

“I was wondering why you weren’t snoozing away in bed already.”

The familiar chime of your voice had him turning immediately, all while a light chuckle escaped his lips as he faced you, “To slumber without a kiss from your lips, my love? How can I even think of committing such a sin?”

While his tone was light and humored, his eyes immediately took in your current attire--a gorgeous winter set that hugged your thick curves perfectly.

He had to assess how quickly it would take for him to strip you down, after all.

You returned his laughter with your own, the sound so sweet and lovely to his ears. “Well now, has someone started worshipping Menphina all of a sudden?”

“I think Halone herself knows that my devotion to her guidance cannot match my love to you,” Aymeric responded, his tone half-teasing yet fully sincere.

Gesturing over to the spread of chocolates and the pair of wine glasses, he proceeded to offer his hand towards you as you approached him, a smile forming on his lips. “Now then, shall we spend this evening with a deserved respite, dearest?”

Your eyes grew wide for a moment as his fingers threaded with yours, just before they softened, an eager smile quickly spreading across your mouth, an excited mirth noticeable in your voice as you then spoke, “Ahh, I’m afraid I will have to refrain from a glass for a while, Aymeric.”

“‘A while?’” He repeated with confusion only for his dark blue eyes to grow wide.

Your visit to the chirurgeon. 

His jaw went slack as the realization dawned on him. “Wait...could you mean--?”

You rested a hand upon your stomach as you joyously affirmed, “Our son is only a year old and he’s already going to be an older brother. They’re twins, Aymeric! We’re having twins!”

Your husband’s breath caught in his throat.

Taking in each word you spoke, your exhilarated energy as you stood before him.

It was then that he proceeded to set the wine bottle down onto the floor.

For it was the last thing he wanted to be mindful of while his quickly deteriorating composure still remained intact.

Because as he proceeded to ensnare your body into his arms while his lips hungrily sought out yours, he was not going to hold back whatsoever.

The wine was forgotten for he was going to get drunk off of you instead.

While the pop of a wine bottle cork was ever satisfying to the ears, Aymeric much preferred the sound of your moans as his hands fondled your skin as he stripped you down upon the sofa.

The taste of Wineport’s finest had absolutely nothing to the sweet creamy mouthfuls of your milk as he feasted on your supple breasts, his lips suckling reverently all his fingers grazed over your thick curves, delving between your plump thighs to stroke over and plunge into your sopping core.

He had come far from the blossoming days of your relationship when merely brushing hands with you would render him weak to his knees.

Now, your husband--the noble and poised Aymeric the Blue--had become like that of an insatiable disciple to you, doing all he could to satisfy your pleasure, all while eager and galvanized to fuck you senseless.

As he did once he had rid himself of his own clothes, wasting little time to plunge the full and long length of his cock inside your slick heat, his mouth claiming yours once again as his arms enveloped around you lovingly, savoring the feel of your gorgeously plush body against his naked skin.

While mindful to not exert too much pressure upon your frontside, keeping some distance as he hovered above your form, his hips remained near conjoined with yours by the striking, brisk snap of his thrusts, his dick plunging into you with shameless desire.

Amidst your moans, you gazed up at your husband with a teasing twinkle in your eye. “I take it that you’re excited by the news.”

“I’m already looking forward to creating even more with you, my love,” he groaned, lowering his head to ghost his lips over your breasts, kissing and suckling on your nipples yet again. Ever far from the manners that were instilled into him, he continued, voice muffled and mouth happily full. “By the Fury, how you continue to bless me so.”

His thrusts quickened.

Your back arched.

A kiss shared between you both.

The flood of his seed was soon pumped into you with needy pounding thrusts was hot, inviting, with much more to come along the way as Aymeric lifted himself off of you to instead have you ride his lap instead, your hearts alight for each other.

It was a night to indulge, surely.

But it was a night to celebrate from dusk to dawn and beyond.

[silentwonderlocks]

Enchant Me *Loki x Reader* Chapter 1

I wrote this for fun, so please enjoy. I do plan on making this a short little story. The beginning takes place before Loki evades New York, then progress with Ragnarok, Infinity War and Endgame but Loki lives  Warning: Mentions of torture, Thanos being a d*ck.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Words: 2767 

It was a peaceful day like no other if it weren’t for the constant screams with loud booming explosions following behind. The bright green grass of the land now scorned with fire and destruction. The clear sky was filled with dark clouds, big metal weapons of mayhem that floated in the air right above the city. You watched as people scattered looking for a means of safety but met with pain.  

The loud ringing in your ears made it hard for you to hear your own screams as you searched for your parents. You ran around fighting through anyone that tried to stop you or pull you to safety, but you did not care. You were just a child, scared for her parents rather than for her own life. You ran past dead bodies, craters in the ground searching for anyone that might have looked like your parents but you found no one.

‘Mother! Father! Where are you!” You called out in the midst of the smoke, seeing the invading army rounding up what was left of your people. Without thinking, you ran into the maw of the beast. In the rows of the people together, you called out again and again until one of the soldiers dawned in gold and black armor harshly grabbed your arm. The soldier cursed at you to keep quiet and threw you to the ground making you cry out in pain. 

He sneered with pleasure at your pain, lifting up his spear ready to plunge into your body, that is until he saw your eyes change color from Y/c’s to lavender color with cat-like slits. You bellowed out a high pitch scream at the soldier knocking him far back, not wasting another moment. You got up and began to run until a giant man with light purple skin stared down at you. His golden armor told you he had to be the leader of the army. 

“Oh little one, what’s the matter?” He asks, looking down at your small frame. You were covered in dirt, bruises and blood that wasn’t yours. 

“my...parents..I need to find them..” You spoke with heavy breaths preparing yourself to fight once more. The man chuckled softly but amused. “Such determination...come with me little one.” With those words, he held out his huge hand waiting for your little one in his. 

You stared at him hearing the screams of your people suddenly stop. 

“We’ll use that potential of yours for a great purpose” He spoke proudly as if he had a grand plan already in the works.

With no parents, no home, and no planet, you did the only thing you could do and that was accept the deal with the devil himself.

That was nearly 18 years ago when your home Aciilnt was invaded by the mad-titan, Thanos. He wiped out nearly the whole population and took you as his adopted daughter. Your home planet was like any other planet in the galaxy, beautiful, full of life and culture with dark history. There were two main people that lived on Aciilnt, the Sirens and the Aciilntians. 

The Sirens proudly lived in the lakes and oceans nearby where they learned water magic, shape shifting abilities and their trance like singing. On the other hand, Aciinltians were the complete opposite. Proud and honorable people, who trained their young to either be great warriors or hard working farmers.

 The war between the Siren people and the Aciilntians was the most common knowledge on your planet. The two species used to live in peace until the Siren people were deemed dangerous by the Aciint’s government after an unstable Siren attacked local people during a celebration. They feared the mind controlling power of the siren’s singing The Siren people were given two options, have their vocal cords removed leaving them mute or be banished from the planet. 

Many chose to have their vocal cords removed to try and have a normal life while the rest of the Sirens chose to be banished rather than give up their dignity.  Soon enough, the government began to purge for sirens who still had their powers, fresh born were killed and those who were caught were sentenced to life as a slave for the wealthy. 

Your mother happened to be one of the Sirens that chose to stay on Aciinlt and fell in love with your father, a simple but honest man. Together they had you, the perfect siren and Aciintian hybrid. Your parents were terrified because they knew if the government found out, then you would be killed. So your mother birthed you in secret and once you were old enough to learn how to do simple things at a young age. She taught you to change your eyes so you would blend in with everyone. You almost got away with it until that soldier had forced you to expose yourself and now here you were on Thanos’s ship as one of his many adopted children.

 Since you were brought upon the ship, you were taught to fight and learn how to use your powers to serve your stepfather along with your adopted siblings.You had mastered your singing to put foes in a trance then make them do your bidding, You were now able to change your small appearance to help blend in for certain mission, and your water magic was terrifying yet powerful. 

Out of all the siblings, Gamora and Nebula were the two that you got along with. Gamora had already been on the ship for a few years when you first met her, she was cold and distant with you at first. She wasn’t used to having someone near her age, and to top it off someone with powers as yours. She didn’t want to be near you. The only time she would be near you was in your room that you shared, when you ate together, and when you fought with her when your father wanted to test your skills. 

You both were equally skilled so it was mostly a tie between you two.  After a year of being together on the ship, Gamora had gotten into a fight with Thanos and came to the room in a fit breaking things, ranting about how much she hated her life and she hated Thanos. Instead of turning her away like she had done to you, you had decided to show her some sympathy. You told her about your hatred, you told her about the day you lost your life to the mad- titan and you also told her that she made you feel like you weren’t alone even if she didn’t like her. You were happy to have someone to suffer with. Gamora soon after that warmed up to you, then Nebula came along. 

Nebula was a different story, she hated all of her siblings and wasn’t trying to make bonds with anyone. She was devoted to her father so much, and was willing to do anything to make him proud. So when it came to you and Gamora, she despised you both and wanted to prove she was the superior daughter. Her hatred grew deeper when she would be challenged against the two of you and always lose, resulting in Thanos adding upgrades to help her improve. By the time the three of you were in your teen years, Nebula had almost lost most of her right side becoming half cyborg. 

You honestly hated hearing her screams of torture when Thanos worked on her so you would ask your father for permission if you could be with her to try and give her comfort and support. He denied every time saying that it was Nebula’s punishment for being weak so she needed to accept her pain. So one day Nebula finally won a battle against you because you had let her win and you took your punishment instead which was a scolding from your father.

 It took a lot more time for Nebula to warm up to you and when she did, you were happy to have two sisters. One you could talk to and one you could spar with. The three of you were unstoppable, the assassin daughters of the mad titan warlord Thanos. 

Now here you were standing in your room, staring out into the void of space relieving your memories of your old life. You hated Thanos, you hated your life, you hated what you had become and you wanted to run but that would take time to plan and units. So you decided to wait for the perfect moment to betray your father and escape away.  

You glanced at your reflection, your lavender eyes piercing back at you, your hair was neatly in a crown braid, the black strapless corset with black tight pants and a purple jacket that fitted around your body felt weird. Your father told you that today was a special day for you to wear something nice. He was supposed to have a meeting with someone to help him find something he called The Infinity Stones. You wondered about this stranger and couldn’t help but scoff to yourself, the poor guy didn’t know what mess he or she would be getting into. 

“Sister, are you ready?” Gamora asks, standing in the doorway with her long ombre hair done up neatly like yours. Her outfit is similar to yours but with a red corset and a black jacket instead. 

You sigh, turning yourself away from the window to stare back at Gamora. 

“Of course sister, come we mustn’t keep father waiting” You responded with ice in your tone as you said the word father. Gamora knew and shared your hatred as well so she just nodded and began to walk down the hallway to the meeting room. You followed her out watching her walk in front of you. As you passed by several training and torture rooms, you knew that you would not miss this place. Your sisters, you would dearly miss but then again they were not your real siblings. Putting your thoughts away, you caught up to Gamora  walking by her side. 

“Nebula is there with father?” You ask first, keeping your eyes ahead. “Ready and waiting, you know she’s gonna scold us later for not being good daughters” Gamora responded, stopping in front of a large door with alien language encrypted on to it.  You nodded to your sister that you were ready and the door opened letting a bright blue light emerge. Inside the room was a large  grey chair in the center of the floor that was twice the size of you and your siblings. Your father proudly sat upon it dressed in his infamous golden amour with your sister, Nebula by his left side waiting. A golden specter in his hand with a bright blue stone in between the two pongs. She sneered at the two of you for making your father wait but before making sure to keep herself in check. 

“Ah..my daughters, finally you grace us with your presence” Thanos began as he held out his hands for you and your sister. Gamora stepped first, letting Thanos lead her to his right side then you stepped up letting your father lead you next to Nebula. Now facing the direction that your father was, you now took full notice of the man in front of you.  

The man was tall, he had to be about 6 ft and over, his black, green and gold leather clothing told you that he was royalty. He was a handsome man with sharp cheekbones, ebony shoulder length hair that was slicked back. His eyes were a deep emerald green that seemed to pierce through your soul.

 His demeanor was something you’ve never seen or felt before. It felt terrifying but sad? It confused you to your core of why this man was intriguing you so. You felt his eyes on you as well, taking in your form. He studied you as you did him, since you knew this would not be the last time you saw him. “Now. Speak of your ambition.” Thanos began making the man’s eyes switch to him. 

“I am Loki of Asgard, or better known as the God of Mischief. I am burdened with a glorious purpose to achieve my rightful place as king! I have come in need of an army” His voice..was alluring and confident. The accent in his voice was deep and a bit husky. The way he spoke, told you that he was determined to get what he desired. 

Thanos smiled and began to hum as he straightened himself in his chair. 

“Glorious purpose? We all have a purpose...a destiny to fulfill. It all arrives the same, the question is what will you do for me? You offer me nothing for my services.”

“I offer you Earth and all of it’s worms that they call their people. I offer you their blood, their screams.” The man called Loki responded with a slight tone of desperation. 

Your father stayed silent for a moment. “Perhaps we can come to an alliance.On Earth, there is this powerful object called the Tesseract. Inside of it, is one of the essentials to my great plan. I will give you an army, Earth will be yours to rule. I only ask for the Tesseract in return, understand?” 

Loki stood up straight, eyes still fixed on your father. “ I will not disappoint you”

Once you heard Loki say that, you felt your heart drop since you knew what your father did with his alliances. Thanos smirked with malicious intent. 

“We’ll see”  

You could do nothing but watch as your father took the specter and plunged it into Loki’s chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you hear his screams ring out, your father wanted to show Loki that he was not one to be disappointed or betrayed. You couldn’t bear to think of what he was making Loki see or feel but you swore that you saw his eyes water. What made it worse was that his eyes were no longer on your father but on you. They held such pain and terror that you almost thought he was begging for help. You gave him a sympathetic look before looking away. You couldn’t have your father seeing you be weak, Loki’s screams continued until your father had enough and made him pass out from the mind torture.  

“Y/n, take our guest to his room. I want to make sure he’s fully prepared for his mission.” Your father stood handing you the tall scepter. “ Give him this for his mission. Don’t be afraid to make him grovel to our will.” 

Gripping the specter tightly in your hand. You stared up at your father with a harsh glare. “Of course Father.” With your words, Loki was picked up by Gamora and carried him to his chamber for now. You followed her admiring his features. 

His face was bruised and scraped, his eyes were puffy with some red around them. 

‘He’s been in more pain than today..” You thought to yourself as the door opened welcoming you. 

Gamora flops him on the bed and proceeds to give you a look beginning to walk out but then she stops. “Y/n you can’t save everyone from father” She says, turning her head to look at you slightly.

“I'm not trying to save anyone, I just can’t stand the pain ” You stated factually as you watched Loki fidget and turn in his sleep. Gamora nodded once before leaving you alone with the god of mischief.  Deciding to give the poor man some relief, you crouched beside him and began to softly sing a lullaby to help ease his pain. 

You lightly grasped his arm to sing soft melodies in his ear. All you had to do was sing a few notes and anyone would be under your spell. Once you saw his face soften up and relax slightly, you pulled away to stand back up.  

“Sleep...and may you never have another bad dream..”  A soft smile rose to your face seeing Loki relax completely and just look peaceful before he would endure your father’s wraith. Leaving the scepter by his side, you exited the room and proceeded to the next mission.