#learned to pick bouquets from the best (her uncle)

[1alchemistart]

sillies!

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 14

Hello! Sorry this is a couple days late. I was really struggling with Eddie's reveal in the last part of this chapter and I wrote three different versions of it before I liked it well enough to be considered done.

And then WIP Wednesday was a smashing success and it kept me busy almost all night. I had so much fun. You're always welcome to join me and send me asks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

So without further ado...

***

That night when Steve closed up his shop with Robin, Steve looked down at the necklace that had been around his neck all day.

“Robin?” he whispered.

She froze and turned to him slowly. He never called her that unless it was serious. It was always Robs or Robbie, never Robin. As she face him, she spotted the necklace dangling from his neck as he rubbed his fingers over the warm surface.

She walked over to Steve and carefully took it from his grasp. “Is that a guitar pick?” she asked gently.

Steve nodded. “It’s his lucky guitar pick, it was the first pick his uncle ever bought for him when he was learning how to play.”

Robin looked him in the eyes. “You want to know what it means that he gave it to you, don’t you?”

Steve gulped and looked away. “I thought I was reading too much into his feelings for me when he made the joke about Chrissy, but now I’m not so sure. The only thing he took from what you told him was my coffee order. The flowers, the necklace, the bagels...that was all him.”

Robin let the necklace drop and wrapped her arms around him. “Look, I know it’s tempting to jump feet first into this. But you can’t. Get to know him. Take it slow. You don’t know what kind of hell he’s been through in the intervening years.”

Steve let out shuddering sigh. “It’s so hard. I’m really struggling with this. It’s like I don’t know how to make friends anymore.”

She smacked him upside the head.

“Ow!” he cried. “What the hell was that for?”

“You made friends with Argyle and Chrissy,” Robin reminded him. “Not to mention Miranda and the other band members. You can make friends just fine. You’re sweet and personable. And clearly he at least wants to be friends with you.” She tugged on the necklace.

Steve looked down at the necklace and let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”

She poked his forehead. “You are letting your intrusive thoughts get a better of you. You’re in love with him, that much is clear. But if you love him, you’ll go at his speed. Capeesh?”

Steve lift his head and tried to steady his jaw as it shook, trying to cry.

“I’m so scared,” he whispered.

She kissed his cheek. “I know, Stevie. But you’ll figure it out. You’re smarter then people give you credit for.”

He hugged her tight. She hugged back just a fiercely. “Now, come on,” she said with a hint of a sniffle. “I would love to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

Steve snorted. “I think it’s clear when I’m not tattooing him, I can’t be left alone with him.”

Robin sighed. “Right, next time he comes over I won’t spend the night at Erica’s. If nothing else to make sure you go to bed on time.”

Steve grinned. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, yeah...”

*

Eddie got home to from the shop, glad that Steve had forgiven him. He touched the spot where the necklace used to be. He didn’t regret giving it to Steve. He wanted to add roses to the apology bouquet but he was terrified of sending the wrong message. Pink meant friendship, white purity, red romantic love. And if he was honest Steve was all of those things to him, but hella confusing in a bouquet. So he just didn’t.

Steve was surprised he remembered the everything bagel he would bring to class when they shared English together Eddie’s second go at graduating. But how could Eddie forget? The teacher hated it because it had a strong scent to it. Most of the class didn’t care so the bitter old hag couldn’t call him on it. It was glorious.

Eddie cherished any memory of the teachers having as rough a go at it as he was experiencing. No matter who was causing the grief. So yeah. That might have been the first time he realized he was head over heels with Steve Harrington resident queen bitch.

He loved that Steve had leaned into the whole royalty thing for his tattoo shop. It was funny in a way most shops weren’t.

Before he could get too deep into his thoughts, there was a knock on his door. He got up to answer it and there were Jeff and Mandy.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie greeted. “Come on in. Pizza’s on it’s way.”

“Score!” Mandy crowed. “Let’s see it!”

Eddie turned around for them to look at it through the cellophane wrap. “It’s not ready to come out yet, but I figure it would be ready for the lotion by the time we finish dinner.”

Mandy’s blunt nails dragged along the outside of where Steve had worked on today. “Jesus Christ, Eddie I’d marry him for his art work. That’s so fucking incredible.”

Eddie nodded. “Add to the fact that he’s the right balance of bitchy and sweet, hot as fuck and might totally be into me? Yeah, if I don’t ask him to marry me by this time next year, you have my permission to beat the sense back into me.”

“So the apology went well?” Jeff asked.

He pursed his lips and nodded, rocking back on his heels. “I made a fool of myself in front of the entire shop, too. For extra ‘apology’ points.”

Jeff tapped Eddie’s sternum. “Gave the man your lucky pick? Does he know what that means?”

“Does he know that it’s the most important object I own?” Eddie asked. “Yes. Does he know that it means I’m head over heels in love with him?” He raised his hand and waved it back it forth. “Ehhh...maybe?”

Mandy chuckled. “You are such an idiot, but that’s why we love you.”

The doorbell rang and Jeff went to go get it. He handed the guy a a ten dollar bill as a tip and closed the door.

Eddie pulled out a dinning table chair and flipped it around so that his back wasn’t pressed against anything as he ate.

He picked up a slice of pizza and began telling them about poor Steve’s horrible morning.

“I get that she like, lied,” Mandy said, “but it doesn’t change the fact that he was dating her because he thought she was eighteen.”

Eddie nodded. “Robin said she got a call back from the police, not only is Steve’s mom not paying for his bail or lawyer, but she served him with divorce papers, too.”

Jeff’s eyes went wide. “Dude fucked around and found out, man.”

Eddie smiled. “I never got why men would cheat on beautiful, successful women. Like what are you getting out of the side piece that you couldn’t get from your actual wife?”

“The thrill of cheating on a beautiful woman,” Mandy said. “It’s stupid, but some men just can’t go beyond their lizard brain.”

“I’m just sorry Stevie had to see that,” Eddie murmured. “He didn’t deserve to have his father come to his place of business and make an absolute ass of himself in front of his employees.”

Mandy nodded. “But you got to come to his rescue and trust me that will win you a shit ton of brownie points with the man.”

“And his friends and employees, too,” Jeff added around a bite of pizza. “Robin was already rooting for you two since day one, so use that. Let her help you get your man. Because it sounds like she’s more than willing. Especially after this morning.”

Eddie wavered.

Mandy put her elbows on her knees and leaned forwards. “Eddie, my love. You know I adore you. But you can’t keep expecting the next guy to come along is going to treat you the way Seth did.”

Eddie didn’t have a lot of exes but Seth was the worst and unfortunately the last. He was everything Eddie thought he wanted in a partner. Long blond hair, tattoos, piercings, long legs in tight leather. He was charming and funny. He started off a little clingy, and ended up full on possessive. He became jealous of the band. Of Mandy, even though Seth knew Eddie was gay.

Eddie cleared his throat and rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“I know.” He grabbed the back of the chair and yanked his arm straight, throwing himself back as far as he could without falling off the damn chair. “The man was a serial monogamist, and from what I remember back in school, all the girls would talk about what a romantic he was, how sweet and gentle he was with them.”

Jeff nodded, picking up the pizza boxes to throw them away. “He was too much of a romantic, the poor bastard,” he told Mandy. “Flowers because he thought his girlfriend would like them. Tell them that an hour was too long between meetings. Kiss them tenderly in the halls.”

“Which is great if you like that sort of thing,” Mandy concluded, “not so much if you don’t.”

Jeff and Eddie nodded.

“So even though it feels like you’re comparing apples to apples,” Jeff said to Eddie, “you’re comparing a rabbit to a hare. They might look the similar on the surface, but they are not even close to being the same.”

Eddie sighed again and tilted his head back. “Is Seth the hare in this scenario?”

Mandy laughed. “Yes, monster hell beast, Seth verses cute little bunny, Steve.”

Eddie huffed out a chuckle. Jeff tried to stifle his laugh, but he caught Eddie’s eye and they both burst out laughing. Soon they were all laughing about the image.

Mandy and Jeff came over and hugged him.

“Talk to Steve,” Jeff suggested. “Tell him what happened and how wounded Seth left you. I’m sure he’d understand.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I’m seeing him on Thursday for day three of this bad boy,” he jerked a thumb at his back, “I’ll talk to him about it then.”

“Good,” Mandy said, rubbing her hands together. “Now, let’s make sure Stevie's artwork is protected.”

Eddie laughed and let them help him take care of his latest ink.

***

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

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[the-flower32]

Monsttober week 2: Angel

The Farm of Spencer Spector; Remembrance and Realizations

It was a crisp autumn day in Ashwood, the graveyard was quite save for two visitors. One was an older woman named Spencer Spector, the other was younger and named Mic.

“Man… this place is way cleaner than the one in my home town.” Mic said as he looked at the headstones they passed.

“Oh thats sad.” Spencer said over her shoulder, a bouquet of Violets and Lilacs in her hand.

“Oh- I don't mean trash- it was just over grown in a lot of places. There was even a club in highschool that petitioned to get it ‘spruced up’.” 

“And how’d that go?”

“Not that well until one of them offered to buy pizza for the class who had the most signatures, she was only able to do so because her dad owned the local jewelry shop.”

Spencer chuckled.

“Food is a big motivator, especially sweets.”

“I know right.” 

The two approached a headstone with an angel carved into it, Spencer stopped in front of it, Mic off to the side. Mic read the name on the headstone.

‘Amissa Spector, Loving wife’

“I wonder who they were.” Mic thought as Spencer placed the flowers and crossed her arms against the wind. 

They wanted to ask, but hesitated. 

“No, it’d be rude.” they told themselves, so they fidgeted with their necklace. 

Mean while Spencer glanced over at them, she was old enough to recognize curiosity when she saw it, and smiled.

“Thanks for driving me out here, I really need to get fitted for glasses.” she started, Mic jumped.

“Uh… no problem.” they said. 

A moment of silence went by.

“You can ask if you want,” Spencer said, seeing Mic’s surprised face she added, “I know most people don't like talking about those the’ve lost but, I like talking about her.”

Mic glanced towards the angel on headstone.

“Ok…who was she?”

Spencers face got a reflective look on it,

“She was my best friend. We got married in a courthouse- we couldn't afford wedding dresses so we just stole our prom dresses…. Neither of our parents agreed to it.” 

Mic watched the old womans face as she paused for a moment, Mic was unsure if she was fighting tears or just trying to remember.

“In fact she had to steal this ring from her mother’s jewelry box, the only guests we had were our friends who stuck with us from highschool.” Spencer giggled fondly, “and her uncle. He owned a tattoo shop and had basically been disowned by his family- except for her. He sat at the back of the hall to make sure our parents wouldn't run in an object. He also gave us the van we lived out of for nine months.”

Spencer looked up at the cloud covered sky as she reminisce,

“We were finally able to buy the farm I live on now, we had no idea it was such a supernatural hot spot of course. The first time we met anyone was during winter, and she greeted them with a shotgun. It was Maple’s older brother.”

“Mark?”

“Yep.”

“Was he in human form?”

“Nope, but he changed back the minute he saw the gun.” Spencer laughed.

“I bet that conversation was awkward at all.” Mic smiled, remembering when they met Maple and Mark, and his surprise when he learned more than just werewolves exist. 

Spencer ran her thumb over her wedding ring, “She was loud and brave, and would fight till the end of time if she could. You should have heard what she said to my parents when I introduced her and they freaked out. She almost punched my dad!”

“We’ll he sounded like a jerk, so I don't blame her.”

Spencer laughed.

“you’d of gotten along with her. Though- she’d probably try to talk you into a less heavy eyeliner look.”

“Yeah- that wouldn't of worked.” Mic smiled down at the headstone. Then he frowned, and started picked at a loose thread in their fingerless gloves. “… sorry you two had to live in such a crappy time.”

Spencer looked at them.

“And with such crappy families too. Neither of you deserve that.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow and smiled,

“Actually… after my dad died my mom came and found me.” she started, “she came to apologize, said she didn't want to die angry like my dad did. She’s not burred here- though- she’s with my dad.”

Mic couldn't help their expression from becoming disgruntled as Spencer talked, so they turned away. 

“I remember, when she was in the hospital, she said she’d tell my dad how wrong they were once she died. I wonder if they’ve moved on yet.”

“Heh, im glad she could get over her prejudices…” Mic mumbled, not knowing they were loud enough for Spencer to hear them. “some peoples families cant.”

Spencer looked sympathetically at him, then smiled. 

“Oh- she may have been my mom but she wasnt my family,” spencer said, Mic looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “not till after she apologized anyways.” 

“You know the phrase ‘blood is thicker than water’? It actually started as ‘the blood of the covent is thicker than the water of the womb’, which narrows down to the fact that the family that cares about you is the one that matters, sure- your biological one made you, but the one you make yourself can be just as important.”

Mic looked off to the side as he thought about what she had said. Then smiled. 

Spencer rubbed and blew on her hands, 

“we should get back to the farm before it gets colder, feel like stopping by the donut shop on the way back and getting a tea or coffee?”

Mic nodded, “If they have hot chocolate, then sure.” 

Week 1

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons Bonus Chapter: Aemma's Nameday Gift

Another toddler Aemma  focused chapter as she learns to cope without her mother in her life.

This also takes place after Rhaenyra married Laenor. That being said, I'm taking the Fire and Blood  version of Ser Joffery Lonmouth's death in an attempt to circumvent the Bury your Gays trope (I know it's not a fix or nothing, but the book version seemed less...well senseless in my opinion, at least there was a reason behind it). That being said, I really wish we did get to see more of Laenor and Joffery, I thought their relationship was actually endearing.

"Take a good look, Aemma," Viserys says as he places the little princess on his knee and shows her his model of Old Valyria, each building and tower carved out white marble stone. 

Since Daemon had left for the Vale to settle the dispute over who held claim the title of Lord of Runestone, given that his lady wife Rhea Royce had recently...passed away in a tragic horse riding accident (*cough cough*) and without ever giving Daemon any heirs to pass the titles to, Aemma was left behind in King's Landing under the care of her aunt and uncle. Viserys had taken it upon himself to spend some time bonding with his niece, and take this opportunity to educate her some on her history and the family legacy. "This is your history, princess, our shared ancestry. Or at least it is a mere scale of what once was. It is my personal endeavor. It has taken years to make sure every structure is carved with such accuracy. Sometimes, I have had to start over on more then one occasion. Yet, every cut into the stone was made with care. Perhaps one day you and Aegon will take up where I left off...should I not live long enough to complete it."

Aemma wasn't really listening to her uncle or what he was saying. She was more fixated on the model of the dragon that was laying by the city model. It reminded her of a toy she'd seen Aegon play with back in the nursery. She reached out, wanting to play with the dragon. Viserys sighed a bit, shaking his head a little before reaching out to give Aemma the toy. Perhaps the king would have to wait till his niece was a little older before he explained this to the girl again. Hopefully it would someday teach Aemma why this history was important and why they all had to stick together as a family.

"Gardens," Aemma points outside. Viserys looked outside, understanding what Aemma was asking. He called for a nursemaid to take Aemma outside in the gardens for some fresh air. Just as well, as even though Viserys was slowly recovering from his bout from the night of his daughter's wedding, he was still not in top shape. Part of him was wondering at this point if he ever would achieve full health again.

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

Aemma walked around the gardens, under the supervision of her nurse maids, picking whatever flowers she could get her tiny hands on. She wanted to make sure her little bouquet was perfect, so she kept an extra eye for what she felt were the best flowers. Once she got the flowers together, Aemma walked back to the Holdfast. 

On the way, she ran into Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. "Princess Aemma," Rhaenys greets, she and her husband turning their gazes to the little princess. "Hello, Princess Rhaenys," Aemma greets, "Lord Corlys. How are you?" "Quite well, princess," Corlys answers, noticing the bouquet in Aemma's hands, "whatever are those flowers for?" "They're for Ser Laenor," Aemma explains, "I heard he's sad." "...and...why would Ser Laenor be sad?" Corlys asks, a little confused. "He lost his friend," Aemma explains, "Ser Joffery. It made him sad."

Corlys and Rhaenys both exchanged looks, remembering what happened that day of the tourney. Aemma wasn't present that day, seeing that she was deemed too young to be participating in such events. Of course, Aemma did not know the true relationship between the son of the Sea Snake and the Knight of Kisses, and Rhaenys and Corlys could only speculate and/or deny the existence of said relationship. Nevertheless, Rhaenys bent down and touched the flowers Aemma was holding, "they are rather lovely, princess," she tells her, "I'm sure my son will appreciate this gesture."

Rhaenys dismissed the maids so she could escort Aemma to her intended destination. _-------------------------------------------------

Ser Laenor, meanwhile was sitting in his chambers, a sense of depression sinking in as he silently mourned the loss of the man he loved. He never expected things to go so wrong during the tourney; how was he to know Ser Criston held such a grudge against Ser Joffery? How was he to know the knight in question, who had bested the likes of Prince Daemon and even Ser Harwin would brutally pummel Laenor's lover over and over to death? 

Rhaenyra had understandably given Laenor space during this time to grieve, to mourn the loss of his love. However, this would not last long, for both knew that if the newly married couple kept distant for too long, people would begin to talk.

The doors to Laenor's chambers opened, and Laenor looked over to see his mother and little cousin approach. "Princess Aemma wished to give you something," Rhaenys announces. Aemma took the cue to give Laenor her bouquet, "whatever are these for, princess?" Laenor inquires. "To make you not sad," Aemma explains in that childlike way, "I heard Ser Joffery...is gone. Just like mama."

Laenor looked at Aemma knowingly. He recalled when he came to King's Landing from Driftmark for the first time in years since he returned from the Stepstones...when he was first betrothed to Rhaenyra. He remembered him and his mother being first to arrive before everyone else, her on Meleys and him on Seasmoke. He remembered eagerly waiting in the courtyard for the rest of the traveling party to arrive, most of all, he was waiting for the Knight of Kisses. He remembered him and Joffery sneaking away down the halls away from prying eyes for a few private moments of intimacy. Which was interrupted when Aemma was doing her own running from her nurse maids and ran into the happy couple before anything could happen. As un-welcome as this interruption was, Laenor gave the princess a greeting smile, having not actually ever met the daughter of the Rogue Prince and the Lady of Larks before. He had picked Aemma up, having recalled some pleasant memories when the Lady troubador had entertained him and his sister with sea shanties many years ago. Laenor also remembered how Joffery had warmed up to Aemma, having expressed a dismay that he never had the pleasure of meeting Aemma's mother before, something he's been wanting to do since Laenor had regaled him of her sea shanties and riveting ballads of a Continent across the sea. "Don't worry, Ser Joffery, you will," Aemma had assured, "mama will return someday."

Sadly, Ser Joffery Lonmouth would never get the chance to be entertained by the Lady of Lark's ballads.

Laenor's contemplation on such bittersweet memories where pulled away from when he heard Aemma humming a certain tune, "whatever are you humming, princess?" he asks. "Mama's song," Aemma answers like it was obvious. Laenor frowned a bit, never having heard that song before. It must've been a special tune the Lady of Larks had composed only for her daughter. It was rather peculiar though that this tune did not seem to come with lyrics. Laenor gave a small smile and took the flowers from Aemma, "they are beautiful," he admits, "I appreciate this gesture, princess."

Aemma gave Laenor a big smile in response. Rhaenys herself made a small smile witnessing this interaction. The elder woman could see the potential in her son to be a good father to his future children; she could only hope to the gods that Laenor could do his part to further both the Velaryon and Targaryen lines.

Right on cue, Rhaenyra walked in, rapping on the door first to announce her presence. "Rhaenyra!" Aemma gleeful ran over to her cousin. "Hello there, cousin," Rhaenyra says with a smile on her face, picking up Aemma as she ran into her arms, "Have you come to cheer up Ser Laenor?" "Yes," Aemma nods. Rhaenyra look over to Rhaenys and then to Laenor who made a small smile, though his eyes still held sadness in them.

"Can we go dragon riding again, Rhaenyra?" Aemma ask. The request took Rhaenyra by surprise a little, but she smiled once more, "of course we can, princess" she nods, "I'm sure Syrax is eager to stretch her wings again." "Can Ser Laenor come with us?" Aemma asks. Rhaenyra looked over to Laenor, as did Aemma who had a hopeful look on her face. "I think that would be a wonderful decision," Rhaenys speaks, placing a hand on her son's knee, "it may do some good to get some fresh air...and to bond with your new wife."

Laenor seemed reluctant, but he nodded in acceptance, "I think that would be wise," he says in a low, quiet voice as he stands, "Seasmoke will be eager to spend time outside the dragon pit as well." "You should come with us, princess Rhaenys," Rhaenyra also suggests, "I don't believe Aemma here has had the pleasure to meet Meleys." "Oh very well," Rhaenys accepts as even she couldn't deny a day out on dragon back.

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

Once at the dragon pit, the dragon keeper came to greet the royals and bring out their dragons.

"Cirillia!" Aemma calls out once she sees her dragon. She wiggles out of Rhaenys' arms and runs to her bonded dragon. Cirillia, who was now the size of a large dog, perked up upon hearing her rider's squeals of delight and ran over to Aemma. The little princess gave her dragon a hug in response. "Gods she sure is growing fast," Rhaenys comments in regards to Cirillia, "I dare say this dragon will be fit for riding in several years time." "It certainly will be the greatest day in princess Aemma's life when that happens," Laenor whispers to Rhaenyra who smirks in response. Aemma was as much Targaryen as anyone else in their party, bastard born or not. It was in her blood to crave the thrill of flying, of taking to the skies on dragonback.

Rhaenyra recalled when she first took Aemma the dragon pit herself. It had been sometime after Daemon left Aemma behind as he was commanded by his brother to return to Runestone, back before the tragic demise of his late wife (also right after the alleged events that happened between Rhaenyra and her uncle that night in the pleasure house). She also recalled how sad Aemma had become once again, now having to deal with both her mother and her father not being there for her. Rhaenyra had remembered that her uncle had taken to bringing Aemma with him on flights on Caraxes, and she had sought to do the same for Aemma by taking her flying with Syrax. 

It certainly won Rhaenyra many points with Aemma, and the older princess certainly felt it gave her an advantage over her stepmother in terms of gaining Aemma's favor. Alicent may fare better in playing the role of a mother to Aemma in place of the Lady of Larks, but Rhaenyra knew deep down her little cousin had the blood of a dragon, and such blood could only be soothed by rush of air one feels when taking to the skies on dragonback.

"Shall we, cousin?" Rhaenyra asks, walking over to Aemma who was still hugging her dragon, "I'm sure Syrax is eager to start flying." Aemma was about to accept, but the roar of a larger dragon caught everyone else's attention. Rhaenys smirked knowing it was the Red Queen herself announcing her arrival. Sure enough, Meleys was there, standing strong above the other dragons. Syrax and Seasmoke both backed away, leaning over almost as if they were bowing to the Red Queen.

Cirillia, on the other hand, approached Meleys in a curious fashion, almost as if she'd never met this dragon before. Rhaenyra and Laenor both held their breaths, almost anticipating what was going to happen next. Cirillia looked up to Meleys in awe. Meleys in turn faced the little dragon, who did look little in the older she-dragon's presence. Meleys lowered her head, touching Cirillia's, who made almost what sounded like purring in response.

There was almost a collective sigh of relief when Cirillia jumped back to rejoin her rider. Rhaenys approached Meleys and gave her dragon a pat on the head, speaking to her softly in High Valyrian. "That was quite bold of Cirillia," Laenor remarks, "not even Syrax would disrespect the Red Queen in such a manner." "For as long as I could remember, Cirillia has always come across as fearless," Rhaenyra points out, "She's been Aemma's little guardian since the time she hatched from her egg."

Mirroring her dragon, Aemma also approached Meleys, also staring in awe. Rhaenys saw this and gestured for Aemma to come close and stand by her side so she may tough Meleys without fear of retaliation. Meleys gave a light snort as Aemma touched her snout. "Would you like to ride her this time, princess?" Rhaenys offers, making Rhaenyra and Laenor look at her with a sense of surprise. Aemma nodded eagerly and Rhaenys helped her up.

"You know, princess, you grandmother was once bonded to this dragon," Rhaenys tells the little princess, "she took your father riding on Meleys many times when he was your age. We appear to be repeating history." Meleys took to the sky as soon as she was out of the pit. Cirillia took off to follow. Rhaenyra and Laenor then mounted Syrax and Seasmoke and took to the skies as well.

Once up high, Rhaenyra looked over to her husband, who returned the look with a reassuring smile. He wasn't quite done grieving his loss, the princess knew, but it was a start. Rhaenyra knew from experience, it wasn't something Laenor would easily get over, or even get over at all. But, like with the loss of her mother, she knew it would take time for her husband to heal and come to terms from such a loss. 

----------------time skip------------------

Some months had passed since that day, and to much surprise to the court, princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor were expecting their first child. At that point, rumors had been circulating that the wedded couple were having trouble conceiving, or more specifically Laenor was the one having trouble. Some had even gone as far as to speculate the marriage hadn't even been consummated yet. But evidence of Rhaenyra's small but growing baby bump was proven to the contrary.

As rumors of the couple's supposed marital troubles were slowly being quelled, some excitement was stirring up once again as Aemma's fourth name day was quickly approaching. Alicent, who was already heavy with her third child at this point, had decided to organize a name day celebration for the little princess as her own father had not yet return from Runestone to celebrate with her.

Since the events that had occurred before Rhaenyra's wedding, since seeing her father dismissed from the king's service and learning that Rhaenyra had lied to her, Alicent had took it upon herself to keep Aemma close and to keep her from being too heavily influenced by Rhaenyra's recklessness. A feat that was easier said then done when the princess in question could win her cousin's love and affection with frequent flights on her dragon. For now, Alicent could only hope whatever lessons she may try and instill in Aemma will stick as the girl continues to grow, and hopefully such lessons will serve the little princess well once she comes of age to wed the king's eldest son.

"Flowers, your Grace," Aemma says, offering Alicent flowers she had picked from the gardens. "Oh, they are lovely," Alicent says with a smile as she accepts, "thank you, princess." Aemma turned her gaze to the queen's rounded belly that was sure to pop any day now; she stared in curiosity. "You know it is rather rude to stare, princess," Alicent points out. "Sorry," Aemma looks away in shame. "It's quite alright," Alicent says, "you're curious, it is only natural, but you should be discrete. Do you understand?" Aemma nods. "Here, feel," Alicent offers, placing Aemma's hand on her belly. Sure enough, the babe inside kicked, making Aemma gasp and stare in fascination. Alicent suppressed whatever laughter was about to bubble to the surface.

"Maybe Rhaenyra's baby will be like this too," Aemma says with a smile. Alicent said nothing; she had often contemplated what she say could about Rhaenyra at this point, what could she say to warn Aemma of what was to come in the future, how Rhaenyra may someday see Aemma as a threat, especially when the day would come that this girl before her would be married. Alicent recalled what Otto had said, to raise Aegon to be the heir and to prepare him for the day when Rhaenyra would rise and challenge his claim to the Iron Throne. She remembered Otto also telling her to keep Aemma close as well as the girl needed to be fully loyal to their side when that day inevitably comes.

Aemma was only a child now, a young child who would not understand now. But maybe she would. Alicent couldn't afford to alienate Aemma now as the young princess had formed bonds with Rhaenyra through their dragons. Alicent though had the advantage of motherhood; being a mother herself nearly three times over, the queen had some experience in that matter, and she could shower Aemma with the love and affection she needed right now in place of her own mother. Sometimes Alicent did wonder what would happen should the Lady of Larks return. Would she try to take Aemma away from here again? And if she did, would Daemon go hunting after her again in order to bring the both of them back? Would such a daring feat put Aemma's life at risk?

Feeling tired suddenly, Alicent had a nurse maid take Aemma back to her chambers to rest. It was going to be a long day tomorrow as there would be much to celebrate.

------------the next day-----------------

Aemma spent the day in the nursery with Aegon under the supervision of the maids. Currently the young princess had a toy in her hands she was fascinated with. It was the same toy of a dragon her uncle had gifted her the other day when he showed her his stone model of Old Valyria.

Being fixated on it, she didn't notice her cousin crawl over and reach out for it, attempting to take it away from her. Aemma pulled back, refusing to let Aegon have it, but the prince kept insisting. Finally having enough, Aemma pushed Aegon away, causing the boy to land on his bottom. Aegon cried and screamed out, getting the attention of the maids, two of whom proceeded to scold Aemma and have her share. Aemma reluctantly did so, but she wondered why she was the one in trouble when it was her cousin that was being demanding and trying to force the toy out of her hands. Not to mention this was the princess's name day, she didn't have to share if she didn't want to.

Normally Alicent would've been here to watch over the children, but she wasn't. From Aemma's point of view this was rather unusual, and she had become concerned over where the queen could be at this hour. "Where is the queen?" Aemma inquires of her nurse maids. "Her Grace is resting right now, sweet princess," the maid assures. Right on cue, screams on anguish reverberated across the corridors of the Red Keep.

Aemma recognized them to belong to Alicent. Concern in her face, the young princess rose and ran out of the nursery once again, and once more the maid ran after her. Aemma ran down the halls where the screams were getting louder, until she stumbled towards the queen's chambers. A midwife came out with towels, nearly running into Aemma, "princess, you should not be here," the midwife scolds. The maids came to escort Aemma away, but the princess struggled out their hold.

The struggled stopped when the cries of a baby had sounded from the chambers. "A boy, your Grace," the midwife inside says. Curiosity taking her once more, Aemma ran inside.

Alicent leaned back against the pillows, exhausted from her labors as she held the new bundle in her arms. The midwife just announced another son, and like his brother and sister before, this babe too had tufts of silver blonde hair on his head. Alicent held him close, giving him a kiss. "Queen Alicent?" Aemma speaks up, getting the queen's attention. "Aemma?"

"Forgive us, your Grace," the first maid said, "she slipped right past us." "She seems to make a habit of that," Alicent remarks in a light huff, "it's quite alright, you may go, I'll keep an eye on her." The maids nod and curtsy before taking their leave. Aemma looked up over the bed, standing on her tip toes to get a good look at the new baby. "You can climb up if you want a better look, Aemma," Alicent encourages.

Aemma did so and stared into the bundle in fascination. "A boy," Alicent tells her, "a prince. His name is Aemond." "He looks like Aegon," Aemma comments, noticing the tufts of hair poking out of baby Aemond's head. "I suppose he does," Alicent agrees, "I'm sorry we weren't to celebrate your name day like I promised. You haven't even received your name day gifts." "It's okay, your Grace," Aemma says, still keeping her focus on the babe in the queen's arms, "I like this one." Alicent smile in response. 

Aemma leaned down and gave Aemond a kiss the way her mother used to, "hello prince Aemond. I love you. Happy name day."

Aemond started to fuss, indicating he was hungry. Alicent handed him over to the wet nurse, who had Aemma escorted back to the nursery so Alicent could rest.  

Later in the evening, Aemma crawled out of her bed and snuck into the nursery where Aemond was peacefully sleeping. Aemma looked over the crib to watch the young prince. On the other side where Aemond slept was the dragon's egg, one of silver grey. Aemma smiled with pride seeing that egg, for she had picked that egg herself, after begging her uncle to go to the Dragon pit where she could the egg for her name day 'present'.

Aemond stirred in his sleep, yet did not wake. It wouldn't be long before he woke and started fussing for his wet nurse. And indeed it wasn't long before he did. Aemma was escorted out of the nursery and back to bed shortly thereafter. Aemma continued to spend more time with Aemond when she could, whether his was being tended to by his nurses or when Alicent was holding him in her arms, and Alicent would take these times to bond with Aemma, who was starting to spend less time riding dragons with Rhaenyra in favor of spending time with Aemond. Aemma would also stare at the egg in Aemond's crib, wondering what it would be like when the day comes when that egg would hatch; what the day would be like when she and Aemond could their dragons together.

One day, Aemma was woken early by her maids and dressed and her belongings were being packed by servants. Aemma was confused by all this and questioned this, the maid telling her that her father was having her brought to Dragonstone where she would see him. Aemma could not extract anymore information other then her father had a late name day present for her. Aemma was reluctant to leave at first, having grown attached to her family in the Red Keep, but she did as she was bid.

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

When Aemma finally arrived at Dragonstone, she was eager to get out and run about, stretching her legs. She looked up to see Cirillia was flying around and enjoying herself.

Also flying above was the blood wrym. Aemma smiled, recognizing her father's dragon right away even though she had not seen Caraxes in a long while. Cirillia flew circles around Caraxes, almost like she was engaging in a game with the older and larger dragon.

Looking further towards the beach, where Caraxes and Cirillia landed, an even larger dragon had resided, resting on the sand. Cirillia stared at this dragon in fascination as this one dwarfed the she-dragon in comparison; even Caraxes seemed small when standing next to this ancient battering ram that has seen her fair share of life and joy and war as evident in the battle scars that decorated her body. Cirillia approached the giant and ancient sleeping dragon in a curious manner, daring to touch snouts with her. The dragon, who was Vhagar stirred and opened an eye, staring down whoever was daring to rouse her from her mid afternoon nap. Vhagar made a low warning growl, which Cirillia surprisingly heeded and back away. This was clearly a dragon one should not mess with unless one had a death wish.

Distracted by this interaction, and also being distracted by the sheer size of Vhagar, it had taken some time for Aemma to hear her father's voice calling out for her. When she did, she ran over eagerly into her father's arms. "Kepa!" she called as she wrapped her arms around Daemon's neck in a hug.

Daemon smiled, proud that her daughter still retained the High Valyrian he had started teaching her prior to his departure to Runestone months before. His attempts to petition the Lady of the Vale to give him Runestone may have been a failure, but that hardly tampered Daemon's spirit, especially when he had something far better to look forward to.

"I have missed you," Daemon whispers, giving Aemma a kiss on her head. "Did you find mama?" Aemma asks. Daemon sighed once more, "I'm afraid not, little love. Don't fret, I will not stop." In truth, Daemon wasn't planning on trying to find the Lady of Larks anytime soon...or ever. If anything, the Rogue Prince had found someone else to take the Lady Lark's place both as his wedded wife and as a new mother to Aemma.

"What was that large dragon?" Aemma asks him, "the one that's WAY bigger than Caraxes?" Daemon smirked some and was about to answer but was interrupted, "that would be Vhagar, little princess. The largest dragon in the world. My dragon."

Daemon and Aemma turn towards Laena Velaryon who a sense of pride about her from describing her dragon. Aemma recalled having met Laena a few times when she and her family came to King's Landing for Laenor and Rhaenyra's wedding.

"Princess, I believe you have met the Lady Laena Velaryon, yes?" Daemon speaks to his daughter to which Aemma nods. "Hello Lady Laena," she greets.

Laena smiled and placed a hand on Aemma's, "it is nice to see you again, princess. But if you wish...you may call me mother." Aemma frowned a bit and looked over to Daemon in confusion, "Laena and I...are married," he explains, "she is my wife. Your stepmother. This is the gift I had wished to present to you, little love."

Aemma was still confused, but seeing the warmth from Laena's smile, sensing it was genuine, the little princess returned it with an equally warm smile of her own.

Bonus Masterlist

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: THIS IS THE MOMENT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR. PURE FLUFF AHEAD!!!

Masterlist

Chapter 24

The doorbell rang Friday night as you were popping popcorn in the microwave for family movie night.

“I’ll get it,” you called out, walking to the front door.

You opened it to see Penelope standing there. She immediately grabbed your hand and started tugging.

“You’re coming with me, soon-to-be Mrs. Reid,” she tried to drag you out of the house.

“Spencer! Code pink! Code pink!” you yelled.

You heard Spencer dashing towards the front door.

“You’re not taking her anywhere,” Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist.

“It’s bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the day of the wedding,” Penelope stomped her high heel in protest.

“Yes, we knew you would say that so we bought these,” you and Spencer held up sleep masks, “Me and Spence will put these on before we go to bed. I’ll set my alarm 15 minutes before his so I will be up and out of the room, headed to Rossi’s before he even sees me. No bad luck and I still get to sleep with my fiancé, everyone’s happy!”

“I should have known you guys would find a loophole. You even had a whole code name,” Penelope huffed.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” you laughed, “I will see you in the morning.”

You gave her a big hug before she returned to her car.

“A brilliant idea if I do say so myself, Dr. Reid,” you grinned.

He leaned down to kiss you as Jo shouted “you’re missing Nemo.”

-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You fumbled to swipe your phone alarm off without actually being able to see it.

Once you got it off, you felt Spencer’s arms tighten around you.

“Keep that blindfold on, mister,” you demanded.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled.

“Do you not want us to get married today?” you teased.

You felt Spencer’s arms slowly retract from around you after giving you one final squeeze.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you giggled.

“Bye, love you,” he tried to kiss you but ended up kissing your nose.

You put your hand flat on his face to find his lips and then guided yourself to them.

“I can not wait to marry you,” you whispered after pulling away.

“10 hours,” he whispered back and you could feel his smile as you went in for another kiss.

You slowly got out of bed and crawled towards the door to avoid hitting anything. However, you slammed your head right into the door.

“Ouch!” you rubbed the top of your head.

Spencer sat up in bed, still with his blindfold on, “Love, are you okay?”

“Yep, I found the door,” you laughed, “I will see you at the aisle.”

“I can not wait to be reduced to a blubbering, crying mess in front of my closest friends and family,” Spencer smiled.

You felt around for the door knob and opened it, taking off your blindfold once you were out of the room. You picked up your bag that you had set outside your door with all of your skincare and makeup before heading out the door to Rossi’s.

By the time you had gotten there, the driveway was full of trucks and vans dropping off decorations and setting up the canopy and tables.

The second you rang the doorbell, you were pulled inside by JJ and Emily who were already in their dresses.

“You both look gorgeous!” you exclaimed as they dragged you up the stairs.

“Here’s a muffin,” JJ said as she sat you down.

Emily was already assessing your hair and combing it out.

“Penelope told us what you did last night,” Emily smiled, “I think it was extremely adorable.”

JJ nodded in agreement as she pulled the makeup products out of your bag.

“I would just feel weird if I was away from him for a night now since we are so used to being right next to each other. Speaking of Pen, where is she?” you asked.

“She needed to make sure they put the lattice trellis in the right place so the sun would set directly behind it,” JJ informed you.

You and Spencer would be getting married in front of a lattice trellis covered in vines and an assortment of flowers right at sunset.

“What would I do without her and you guys?” you laughed.

-

Spencer groggily answered the door to see Derek standing there, holding both of their tuxes.

“Ready to get married, Pretty Boy?” he grinned.

“Yes,” Spencer rubbed his eyes to wipe away the tiredness, “Let me wake Jo up.”

Spencer walked back up the stairs and opened Jo’s door, sitting at the edge of her bed.

“Time to get up, Princess,” he whispered, “You get to wear your new dress today.”

Jo’s eyes shot open and she got out from underneath the covers, revealing she was already in fact in her dress.

“You got up already?” Spencer laughed, picking her up.

“I tricked you, Daddy,” she giggled.

“Yes, you did,” Spencer smiled, “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Uncle Derek!” Jo exclaimed.

“Jo!” Derek shouted, accepting the little girl into his arms, “Well, don’t you look nice. Auntie Penelope was telling me how excited she is to do your hair later.”

Jo nodded enthusiastically.

“You get ready,” Derek pushed the tux into Spencer’s arms, “I’ll get Jo breakfast.”

-

You stood at the back of the line in front of the glass double doors leading out to Rossi’s backyard.

As the violins and piano began to softly play, you heard Penelope say, “Jo, go see your Dad.”

The doors opened to let Jo out, holding her basket of white rose petals.

You sneakily watched from a nearby window as Jo took her job very seriously, throwing a handful of petals every other step and then taking a seat in the front row next to Henry and Will.

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all proceeded down the aisle one by one, standing on the opposite side of Derek and Rossi who were standing next to Spencer.

You ran back from the window to in front of the doors, grabbing your bouquet from the table. You had decided to walk down the aisle alone. Your parents were in the audience here to support you but you were your own woman, you didn’t need to be “given away” to Spencer.

The doors opened for the final time and you stepped out. Spencer turned to face you and you could see the tears already glistening in his eyes.

You smiled and mouthed ‘I love you’ as you walked down the aisle and he mouthed ‘I love you too’ as the tears quickly began to form in your eyes as well.

You took your spot in front of Spencer and Jo waved to you both which elicited a small chuckle from the crowd.

“Hi, baby,” you waved back.

You don’t even think Spencer noticed because his eyes were laser-focused on you.

“Shall we begin?” Hotch asked and you both nodded.

“I would like to thank everyone for being here to help Y/N and Spencer celebrate this special day in which they attest to their love for one another. Spencer, would you like to read your vows first?”

Spencer nodded, “I have never admitted this to her until now but the first time I spoke to Y/N is because I offered her a sweatshirt. I actually brought that sweatshirt to the library with me that day, hoping the pretty girl who was always shivering would finally have a reason to acknowledge me. That was the single best decision of my life. Unfortunately, a little over a year later, I made the single worst decision of my life by letting you go,” Spencer started to get choked up, “I honestly think my ‘genius’ title should be taken away for that alone. Somehow, I was graced with the opportunity to come back into your life even though I didn’t deserve it. And your life now revolved around one particular little girl that I grew to love more than I thought was ever possible. So, I just wanted to say scientists learn from their mistakes so while I can’t promise I won’t make any more in the future, I can tell you for sure that I will never let go again.”

“Oh wow,” you sniffled, taking a kleenex and your little journal from Penelope, “How am I supposed to top that?”

“I really don’t care what you have to say, you marrying me is more than enough,” he whispered.

“Oh my god, you’re still coming up with better vows than me on the spot,” you whispered back.

“Much like Spencer, I also wrote about our first encounters in college. Spencer and I quickly formed an unspoken agreement that we would always meet at the same table in the library. One night, when he was taking the time to repeatedly explain to me a calculus concept I just wasn’t getting even though I knew he had a paper due tonight, I thought to myself ‘this one is too good to let get away’. So at our next meeting, I ordered takeout from his favorite restaurant and set up a little dinner for us. It was all worth it when I saw him walk in with his textbooks only to be soon lost for words when I asked him if he would go on a date with me. I never really dated anyone in the time we were apart, I just had this feeling that our story was far from over and I’m so so glad that feeling was right. I promise I will never stop loving you, no matter what, because I don’t think I could even if I tried” you stated.

“Spencer, with this ring, do you take Y/N to love and to hold, to cherish and respect her in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward?” Hotch asked.

“I do,” Spencer smiled as you slipped the band on to his ring finger.

“Y/N, with this ring, do you take Spencer to love and to hold, to cherish and respect him in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward?” Hotch repeated.

“Absolutely I do.”

Spencer slipped the ring on your finger.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” Hotch smiled.

Spencer cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as he could and kissing you deeply. Everyone cheered as you both interlocked your hands and headed down the aisle.

As soon as you were inside, Spencer pulled you in for a more passionate, sloppy kiss.

“I didn’t want an audience for that,” he grinned, pulling you back in.

“Bleh,” you heard Derek say, who had Penelope on his arm, “Do you guys need to go home already?”

“No, we can wait a few more hours,” you giggled but Spencer whined.

JJ and Will had offered to take Jo for the night so you and Spencer had the house to yourself. You had opted for just spending one night away from Jo rather than a long honeymoon. You were going to take a family vacation all together instead.

A few minutes later, you heard Penelope and Derek announce on the microphone, “Now introducing for the first time ever, Dr. and Mrs. Reid!”

You exited the glass doors once again, holding you and Spencer's interlocked hands up in the air as everyone cheered under the big white canopy with fairy lights.

“Please clear the dance floor for their first dance together as husband and wife,” Penelope smiled.

Bloom by The Paper Kites faded in as Spencer’s arms wrapped around your waist. You rested your head against his chest and wrapped your hands around the back of his neck.

You felt him rubbing small circles on your side with his thumb as he planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you so much, my husband,” you whispered.

“I love you more, my wife,” he smiled.

You swayed gently back and forth until the music faded out. Spencer leaned down and kissed you as you stopped swaying. You completely forgot you were in front of an audience until you pulled away from Spencer and the crowd erupted into a cheer.

You looked into the audience to see Diana twirling Jo around in a circle. Luckily, an aid was able to bring her on such short notice.

After everyone had enjoyed the banquet, Hotch and Emily took the microphone this time.

“Time for the cutting of the cake!” they cheered.

You and Spencer both stood from the main table to go get the first pieces. You both held the knife together, cutting out two pieces.

You grabbed the plate that your slice was on and gently shoved it into Spencer’s nose, laughing as he pulled the plate away, his face covered in white frosting.

“You think that’s funny?” he grinned, grabbing his piece and pressing it into your face.

You continued your giggling fit as he cut another piece.

“Princess, come here!” he called out.

Jo ran up, eager to get a first taste of the cake and you and Spencer pressed another piece right into her face.

Jo stuck her tongue out and licked some off her face, “It tastes good,” she smiled as you and Spencer continued to laugh.

[author-morgan]

Hi there! So I have a request for Eivor if it hasn't already been requested yet and if you have the time. Since I've started to play the game I love the Cairn stone events. I would love it if you could possibly write something with Eivor teaching his young daughter about them and teaching her how to stack them.

man, i wish i loved the cairns as much as you. i've never wanted to throw my controller through the tv more, not to mention the one i spent almost 2 hours on. but gosh if this isn't super cute, so here you go, Eivor teaches his and your daughter how to stack stones. m!Eivor x fem!Reader

SVANDÍS PROTESTS WHEN you veer from the path leading down to the wharf, instead taking to one of the benches outside the longhouse. Sitting down with a long and heavy sigh, you wipe the sweat from your brow —it is only a spring morning with a cool breeze, but the aches and sniffles from the prior evening have taken hold. Valka will tell you it is a spring fever and that rest, and a good meal is the best remedy, but you have an antsy five-year-old on the verge of tears, tugging at your skirts. “But you promised!” She pouts.

“I know” —you stroke back her blond hair, already in disarray from chasing rabbits— “I know, little one, and I am sorry.” Svandís crosses her arms and looks up at you with those clear blue eyes that are impossible to resist, yet another reflection of her father. You sigh, wiping the dirt from her cheek. Breaking promises never feels good, especially ones made to your young daughter, even if it was to stack stones. “All I need is a few days of rest, and then we can go,” you assure her. Where are you, Eivor?

As though the gods have heard your silent prayers, two long horn blasts echo around Ravensthorpe and the surrounding forests. Shortly after, the longship docks —Eivor and his crew dispersing among the settlement. “Eivor!” You call, waving to him as he nears the longhouse —a smile blossoming on his travel-worn countenance when he sees you and his daughter. Little Svandís darts to her father quick as an arrow. He scoops her up into his arms, pressing short kisses across her cheeks and forehead, laughing as she does. Her arms wrap around his neck as he balances her on his arm.

Eivor places Svandís back on the ground, frowning as he sees the pallor tinting your complexion and the sheen of sweat on your brow. “Are you ill?” He asks, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead before you can give him an answer —your skin is hot to the touch, his frown deepens.

“Spring fever,” you tell him, swatting his hand away, “nothing rest will not solve.” He knows it to be true. A few days rest would see you right as rain, but for now, he’ll take his chances and kiss his wife. Eivor bends down, his lips wind-chapped from the sea and river, but his kiss is gentle and sweet, a way to say I love you without speaking. When he pulls away, he brushes the wisps of hair clinging to your forehead aside and lays a quick kiss there too, sitting next to you.

Svandís’s excitement has already worn away —the pout on her lips is back. If she can’t get her way with you, then she knows her father won’t be able to deny her. “And what is wrong with you, my little shieldmaiden?” Eivor asks, picking Svandís up and setting her on his knee. She crosses her arms, squinting at you —still crestfallen.

“Mama promised she was gonna teach me how to stack stones,” she tells him.

Eivor’s lips curl into a smile beneath his golden beard —longer and shaggier than you are used to seeing. “She was?” Svandís nods. “Well, do you want to know who taught her to stack stones?” He inquires, raising a brow, eyes flitting to you. She looks between you and Eivor, blue eyes wide and questioning. “I did,” he tells her, boastful, smile widening as her arms uncross, already seeing the next question popping into her racing mind. “And my mother taught me when I was just a boy,” Eivor explains.

He strokes back Svandís’s messy braids and looks to you with a wide smile, grateful to have the chance to be the one to teach his daughter the art of making cairns. Eivor reaches for your hand and cranes his head down, blond whiskers tickling your skin before his lips brush against your knuckles. “Let your mother rest, Svandís,” he says, letting your hand go as he stands, shifting Svandís up onto his shoulders, “I know just the spot.”

EIVOR PULLS BACK on the reins of his chestnut horse, bringing the beast to a halt next to a bend in the River Nene. He slides from the saddle, then lifts Svandís, setting her on the riverbank. “First,” he says, freeing a woven sack from his belt, “we must gather our stones.” Crouching down, he picks up a stone, smooth and flat —like a honey cake— and places it in his daughter’s hand, letting her feel the weight and rounded edges. “Look for ones that are smooth and flat,” Eivor explains, knowing those are the ones to make for easy stacking for a young novice. It does not take long for them to fill the small sack with river stones —setting back off for the hilltop.

Cresting the hill reveals a vista to the north, overlooking the river and green rolling hills of Mercia —a calm and quiet place, good for clearing the mind, easing the soul, and stacking stones. Eivor sets Svandís to the ground, lowering the sack of stones too before dismounting —breathing in the crisp spring air, lingering with the scent of wildflowers, honeysuckle, and rain. Eivor eyes the patch of wild daisies growing beneath the shade of an ash tree, thinking they’d make a sweet gift for you to keep bedside.

Turning out the stones, he sits, first watching as Svandís eagerly begins stacking the stones. The short piles fall to shambles with her careless haste, but this is part of the learning process. “Failure is part of it, Svandís,” Eivor consoles when she lets out a frustrated groan, her wobbling tower of stone finally crumbling. He sees his younger self reflected in his daughter’s disappointment, remembering the times when his cairns would teeter and fall. He swore never to bother with them again —his mother laughed, knowing her son wouldn’t be able to stand failing at anything in life. He leans forward, resting a hand on her small shoulder. “Think of it as a test of mind,” Eivor says, tapping her noggin before picking up and reordering the felled stones. “You need patience and perseverance.”

Taking the broadest stone from their collection, he smooths over the ground before them both, knocking away small pebbles and little twigs —creating a good base on which to build. Eivor takes the largest and flattest stone, placing it first. “See?” He says, recalling how his mother first explained it to him. “You want the flattest and largest stones near the bottom to build a strong foundation.” Looking over the scattered stones, he picks another one, setting it atop the first —twisting and flipping to find the best way to place it. He nods for Svandís to try again.

Svandís places another stone atop the two already there, echoing her father’s motion of twisting and turning to find the best place to set it. She looks over her shoulder, seeking assurance and approval, Eivor nods, and the cairn grows taller. Before she places some of the last stones, Eivor stills her hand, hovering over the stack. “Don’t let go until you are certain they will not fall,” he tells her in a low breath. She nods, carefully placing the last three stones. The stack is small —not even reaching the height of his father’s bearded axe— but it stable, unmoving in the wind or Svandís’s excited outburst.

“Just like with everything, it takes practice,” Eivor reminds her, wrapping an arm around her small waist. The first cairns he stacked with his mother and father as a boy were just as unimpressive, but he lived and learned and soon could stack them higher than he was tall. He grins with pride, seeing Svandís smile. “The more you stack, the taller they’ll grow,” he tells her, lifting his hand in the air, “and one day you just might make one tall enough to see the home of the gods.”

Eivor reaches into the small pouch at his hip, pulling out two small red-green apples. “Did Uncle Sigurd ever stack stones with you?” Svandís asks, settling next to Eivor, taking the slice of apple he holds out.

“No,” Eivor laughs, recalling the times Sigurd would bother him while trying to make cairns, “he stole my stones more often than naught and called me troll-toothed.” Svandís giggles. The commotion piques Sýnin’s curiosity from where he circles above on an updraft of wind. Sýnin swoops down, landing on Eivor’s shoulder —the raven’s head tilts this way and that as he observes the short stacks of stones, thinking one to be a good perch. The raven hops down, beats his wings once, and settles atop the last stack Svandís built —preening his blue-black feathers. “Look,” Eivor announces, merry with pride, “you’ve built a cairn sturdy enough for Sýnin to perch.” The raven croaks in agreement, bobbing his head up and down. Svandís leans forward, rubbing Sýnin’s head with one of her fingers, smiling when his croaks turn to soft gurgles.

Looking to the sky, Eivor sees the first dark clouds rolling in from a distance, shrouding part of the sun. It will rain later. “Come, little one,” he says, rising with a soft groan —a reminder he is not so young anymore— “I think it’s time we check on your mother.” He goes to the patch of daisies, taking a handful and severing them from the earth with the throwing axe at his back before whistling to his horse. It is an easy ride back to Ravensthorpe, through the forest, and across a shallow parting in the river.

Stabling the chestnut mare, Eivor kneels outside the fence where Svandís waits, bouncing on her toes. He hands her the small bouquet of daisies so that she may give them to you, though before he can stand, she leaps into his arms, squeezing tight. “Thank you for teaching me, father,” Svandís says, almost a whisper.

Eivor brushes back her hair, kissing his daughter’s forehead, eyes crinkled with his smile. “And I am thankful to have been able to teach you,” he answers, swallowing the lump of heavy emotion rising in his throat. “Now, let's tell your mother about our day,” he says, still smiling, scooping Svandís up when he rises. For a second, Eivor does not move, his gaze skyward to the setting sun, a silent prayer of gratitude on his lips, and a hope that he will live to have many more days like this with his little shieldmaiden.

[ taglist: @angstygunslinger @vanillabeanlattes @withered-poppies @ananriel @itseivwhore @maximalblaze @dynamicorbit @theelvenvalkyrie @xxdearlybeloved @elizabethroestone @elluvians @letsloveimagines @finick94 @wallsarecrumbling @kitkitvm @thedragonqueenfan @callmemythicalminx @edelae @darkravenqueen98 @rhienn-lavellan-rutherford @pat-talks ] if your name is italicized, tumblr would not let me tag you. if you’d like to be added to my Eivor taglist, just let me know!

[skzsauce01]

A Good Man

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Seungmin loves you so much so that he wished he was the one left behind in the plane crash, not your late husband.

Warning: guilt, plane crash, death

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Seungmin

Chan was a good man— loyal, loving, reliable. Seungmin is a good man too, but Seungmin is not Chan, and he knows it. He knows it well.

He approaches you, bouquet in hand. You turn and smile when you hear him.

“Hi, Seungmin.”

“Hello, Y/N. Where’s Miyeon?”

“I left her with her grandma. She isn’t quite old enough to sit still for stuff like this yet.”

“I see.” He set the flowers by the picture of his late leader. “I should leave the two of you alone then.”

“No, wait, Seungmin,” you stop him. “Would you like to have dinner with us this evening?” 

You’re inviting him to dinner? His eyes slide to Chan’s framed smiling face. No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. There probably isn’t something more to this invitation. You probably just don’t want to be alone on your late husband’s fifth death anniversary. “Sure. Where? I’ll see if any of the boys are free too.”

“No, I meant just the three of us at my place,” you clarify. “I… I have something to say.” 

Seungmin can’t stop his heart from accelerating even though he knows it’ll hurt more later. “O-okay.”

You nod and turn back to the memorial. Seungmin watches as you whisper something into the single white carnation in your hand and set it on the altar before he himself turns to give you room.

He finds it ironic that he was actually the reason why you and Chan were together. You were his classmate whom he reunited with when Stray Kids did a reality show at a site you worked. He was even the best man at your wedding. He remembers that day clearly— that day when he saw you walking down the aisle dressed in white. He’d never felt so sick as he did then when realization and regret hit him all at once. He loves you. Since when, and for how long, he didn’t and doesn’t know, but it was and is too late. 

He finds it even more ironic, however, that he is the reason you two are now torn apart.

He raises his finger and presses the bell. Within seconds, the door is thrown open wide and a bubbly five year old greets him. “Hello, Uncle Seungmin!”

He automatically bends down and scoops the child up. “Hi there, Miyeon. Have you been a good girl today?”

“Uh-huh! You can ask Mommy!”

As if on cue, you pop out from the kitchen. “Yes, she’s been a well-behaved angel. Welcome in, Seungmin.” 

You take the melon he’d brought while he takes off his shoes. Seungmin’s a bit surprised to see three lit candles on the dining table when he walks in, but says nothing of it. He does, however, raise an eyebrow when you off-handedly mention you baked his favourite chocolate cake. He knows the recipe calls for red wine, and for a single mother such as you, anything that does not involve your child usually does not fit into your schedule, let alone cross your mind. 

After dinner, you take your daughter to her playroom upstairs with a large plate of cookies that are obviously meant to keep her distracted for a while.

Seungmin watches as you scurry back downstairs afterwards. You’re wearing a skirt. He doesn’t remember you wearing a skirt since you gave birth. He thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, but the effort you put into looking nice makes him blush a shade darker.

“Shall we?” you dramatize, pulling out the dessert.

Seungmin helps lay out two plates while you serve a slice onto each.

“You mentioned you have something to say?” he asks as you both tuck your chairs in.

Are you blushing, or is it just the heat from these candles?

“I, uh… Let’s eat first.” You smile sheepishly. “I haven’t had this in so long.”

Despite having his favourite dessert, Seungmin cannot concentrate on its taste at all. He watches as you cut through the moist cake with your fork. He can tell you’re nervous by the way your joints are turning white by your grip on the utensil. He’s used to being the anxious one, so this is new. What could have gotten you so on edge?

At last, you’ve scraped every last drop of cream you can procrastinate with into your mouth. Seungmin takes the plates and sets them into the sink before sitting back down in front of you, waiting patiently.

“What I want to say is,” you begin carefully. 

He nods once and leans forward, letting you know you have his attention.

“We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

“Yes, why?” Goodness, this sounds like a line from every other friends-to-lover romcom skit. Not that he would mind. As long as you tell him you feel the same way he does, he wouldn’t care if you quoted “Twilight” verbatim. Oh, to be in a lighthearted romcom with you, Seungmin dreams of nothing more. Then again, he reminds himself, these are just dreams.

“Ever since… ever since Chan passed, we grew closer, and I depended on you a lot. You’ve been my cornerstone, and I wanted to say ‘thank you.’”

He nods again, but doesn’t say anything. He knows you enough by now to recognize you have more on your mind.

Indeed, you continue. “And over these past five years, my heart has—”

“Mommy!” A sudden cry sends you both to your feet. 

“I’ll tell you later,” you toss over your shoulder to Seungmin who’s running right on your heels towards the cry.

“Miyeon!” you gasp, seeing the state of your daughter. Somehow, she has managed to squeeze through the gaps between the railing of the stairs and is hanging from the second floor. Below her, her stuffed monkey lays sprawled out on ground level.

“I’ll pull her up,” you decide, but Seungmin stops you.

“It’ll be hard to fit her back through those rails, and she’s crying too much to cooperate.” He stands under your daughter and extends his arms upwards. “Miyeon? Miyeon, let go. Uncle Seungmin will catch you. You’re going to be alright.”

The little girl stops wailing for a moment and looks down only to cry again from the intimidating height.

“Sweetie, it’s okay. You can do it. We won’t let you fall,” you add in. “You trust us, don’t you? You trust Mommy and Uncle Seungmin?”

She quiets down again and sniffles as she looks at you and Seungmin now instead of the floor. Her tiny arms are shaking, and you brace yourself, knowing she’s going to fall soon whether she wants to or not.

Miyeon whimpers once more and closes her eyes. She then finally releases her grip and lands squarely into Seungmin’s awaiting arms.

“Oof. There we go. Safe and sound,” he assures her. 

Once she’s set on the floor, Miyeon again begins to bawl from shock. “Mr— Mr. Bananas wanted to climb. Mr. Bananas wanted to climb!” she sobs, gripping the stuffed animal you’ve returned back to her arms.

“Okay, okay, we understand. Still, no more climbing for you or Mr. Bananas, alright?” hushes Seungmin.

You pick up your daughter and bounce her on your shoulder. “I think she’s learned her lesson. I didn’t think we still needed baby rails, but I guess you can never be safe enough.”

Seungmin reaches for Miyeon. “Let’s put her to bed. She must be exhausted after all that.”

You nod and let him carry the five year old up the stairs once more. You have him wait downstairs though as you change the child, so he heads back down and makes himself comfortable on the couch. On the lamp table beside him, there’s a photo of you and Chan excitedly holding up an ultrasound. It is the only picture of the three of you together.

He runs this thumb over the other man’s face, wiping it free of any dust. “I’m sorry…” he whispers. “I know it’s not worth much, but I’ll keep Y/N and Miyeon safe and happy. I promise.” 

He quickly sets down the picture and stands when he hears you closing the bedroom door. 

“Is she alright?” Seungmin asks when he sees your head appear from around the corner.

You nod, descending the steps quietly. “She’s sleeping now. She’ll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.”

“I wish I could say the same when I get hurt. I can’t even sit in certain positions anymore,” he jokes.

You laugh lightly. “I’m glad you were here, Seungmin. Things could have been a lot different if it were just me.”

“I’m always happy to help. I should get going now though. You must be tired too.”

“Wait.” Your voice stops him at the front door. “The accident… I’m thankful you were here, and I realized it had to be you. You had to be the one to do it.”

His stupid hope is rising again. He can feel it in his chest. “Y/N, what are you saying?”

“Miyeon, she wouldn’t have trusted anyone except you. She needs you, and I… I need you too.” 

Is he hearing incorrectly? His silence and bewilderment prompts you to explain. “The thing is, ever since Chan passed five years ago, you were the only one who’s been by my side, supporting and caring for me, and slowly, I’ve fallen for that. Seungmin, I know I come with a lot of baggage, but would you be willing to give us a try?”

He wants to jump, he wants to cheer, he wants to accept your confession, but none of this makes sense to logical Seungmin, so he restrains himself.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’re saying?”

You nod. “I-I know it’s sudden, but I like you, Kim Seungmin.”

“But you love Chan.”

You hesitate but nod in agreement anyway. “I’m not going to put you second. I—”

“Y/N, I killed Chan. Don’t you see? You should hate me instead. If it weren’t for me, you’d still have your husband, and Miyeon would still have a dad. If I hadn’t stood under that propeller after the plane crash, Chan wouldn’t have had to push me and get crushed in the head. I killed Chan, and no matter what I do— no matter how much I love you too— I can never stand in his place.”

You take a moment to stare at him, trying to read his body language after that confession of insecurity. After a while, you straighten your back and look him right in the eyes.

“You’re right.” He’s startled by your sudden firm tone. “You can never be Chan. You’re not a music-producing insomniac. You’re not Australian. You’re not born with curly hair.”

He swallows and hangs his head.

“But,” you continue. “I’m not looking for another Chan. I’m not looking to replace him; I’m looking for you.”

“Y/N…”

You soften your voice. “When I found out how he passed saving you, I knew I was going to be okay. I knew Chan wouldn’t leave me and his unborn child to fend for ourselves. He saved you because he knew he could count on you, and it’s why I trusted you from the beginning and why I let myself fall in love again.”

You walk up to him and take his hands. “Let me ask this again. Will you, Kim Seungmin, stand by my side, not as Chan, but as someone who loves and is loved?”

His heart pounds in his head, yet he cannot take his eyes off of yours. His throat is tied into knots, yet he cannot stop the words from tumbling out.

“Nothing would make me happier,” he breathes. 

You smile and wrap him in a hug, which he finally returns. Just then, footsteps thump down the stairs and a five year old child waddles into view.

“Mommy?” she calls. She then takes a moment to look around before her eyes land on Seungmin. “Daddy?”

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Wolf in the Castle

Pairing: Charles Blackwood x fem!Reader

Words: 4110

Summary: You arrive at Blackwood Manor to find an unexpected visitor disrupting the sensitive ecosystem of the small family.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f receiving), fingering unprotected vaginal sex), very minor violence (brief mention of blood), mention of committing crimes, SMUT, 18+ ONLY!

A/N: I’ve been binging a bunch of Seb Stan movies over the past few days as I finish my week off, and Charles Blackwood kind of struck me. I really enjoyed this fic and hope you do too!

Will reblog later with tags (join my taglist here!)

not my gif

Alright, what the hell? You thought to yourself as you pulled up to Blackwood manor.

There was a strange red convertible in the driveway. Constance and Merricat never had visitors aside from the Clarkes and you. You frowned to yourself as you climbed out of your sedan, picking up the books and flowers from the passenger seat as you went to knock on the front door.

Constance greeted you with one of her beaming smiles that always managed to break your heart a bit.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you! I know Merricat has been looking forward to you coming to visit. You’ll have to excuse us, our cousin Charles has come to stay with us unexpectedly, so we didn’t have enough time to prepare a room for you.”

“Constance, you don’t need to apologize!” You chided as you followed her into the receiving room. “You’re certain this visit won’t be a strain, now that you have another houseguest?”

“Oh, nonsense! Merricat would never forgive me if I sent you away! I see you brought her some new books. And are those lilies?”

“Lilies, cherry blossoms, and lilacs. I remembered they’re your favorites!” You gave her a warm smile as you handed her the bouquet and set the books on one of the end tables.

“Thank you so much! Oh! Y/N, this is our cousin, Charles Blackwood! Charles, this is Merricat’s tutor, and our very good friend, Y/N.”

You extended your hand to the man who had just entered the receiving room and he pressed his lips to your knuckles with a charming smile. His blue eyes took you in as he leaned back against the rear of the couch. You were a stark contrast to Constance’s proper and domestic appearance. You were wearing a pair of tight white capris and a gingham blouse that you had tied in a knot just above the waistline of your pants.

You gave him an appraising look of your own. He was relaxed in a cream linen suit. His soft chestnut waves slicked back from his face as he gave you a smirk. He had an air of easy allure about him that made you uneasy. 

You didn’t trust him a bit.

“So nice to meet you, Charles.” You murmured as he stared at you.

“Y/N!” Merricat came tearing into the receiving room and leapt on you, wrapping her arms around you in a desperate embrace and making you laugh. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!”

“Mary, you’re being incredibly inappropriate.” Charles was no longer smiling as he watched your young student chatter at you giddily, her hands and knees smudged with dirt from the garden.

“Please, it’s fine.” You grinned at him as Merricat shot him a poisonous glare over her shoulder. “I’ve brought you some new books Merricat, ‘Transcendental Magic’ and several encyclopedias of poisonous plants of the United States and Canada.”

“Oh, thank you!” Merricat ran her fingers over the book covers lovingly when you handed them to her. “Will you join me in the woods to look for some of these?”

“Dear girl, I would love to. But first I need to bring in my suitcases and unpack.” Constance was still beaming between the two of you as her sister opened the book on magic and started to read. Charles looked incredibly disapproving though, and that made you smile for some reason. “I think it’s a little too late for us to venture out tonight anyways, so why don’t you help me bring in the rest of my things, and tomorrow we can make a whole day of it! We’ll bring a picnic and everything!”

Merricat grinned at you before she ran off to put away her new treasures, taking the steps two at a time.

“You shouldn’t encourage the girl.” Charles mumbled under his breath, scowling at you.

“I think it’s lovely how Merricat light’s up whenever Y/N is here.” Constance started to say, but her words died off and her smile took on a certain strain as Charles turned his disapproving gaze to her.

“Exactly what harm is she doing?” You asked, turning to the man with a tired expression. “The girl is exceptionally bright, and I refuse to stifle her. She could be turning that energy into something far more destructive if she isn’t given a proper outlet.” You murmured, shooting a knowing glance at Constance.

“Very well.” He grumbled. “Just make sure she’s washed up for dinner. Constance has made us a lovely meal, I won’t have the girl spoiling it.”

You considered questioning Constance about her cousin once he left to work his way up to his room, but she just gave you another smile and turned to head to the kitchen and finish her preparations. Merricat came bursting through the front door then, looking slightly comical as she tried to maneuver your two cases at once. You hurried to assist her and the two of you headed up to the guest room.

Once you reached the guest room, the two of you set to unpacking your things.

“When did your cousin arrive, Merricat?” You asked as you hung up some of your dresses and she arranged your makeup and perfumes on the vanity.

You saw her shoulders tense when you mentioned Charles. Jonas had followed the two of you and was winding his way through Merricat’s legs. She picked him up and held him close to her chest.

“He came here unbidden and is most unwelcome.” She whispered harshly as she avoided making eye contact with you. “I believe he is making Uncle Julian sicker, and he intends to take Constance from me.”

You stood up to embrace the girl, hoping to soothe her. You smoothed your hands over her hair as she buried her face in your chest.

“Dear girl. Are you sure about these things?” She was incredibly overprotective of her remaining family members, but you couldn’t deny the man made you uncomfortable too.

She just nodded into your shoulder.

“Well, we’ll just have to do our best to make sure he leaves then, won’t we?” You tipped her chin up to face you and she gave a small smile of relief. “Now, I’m going to take a bath before dinner, you should get cleaned up as well. We don’t want to arouse any suspicions.”

She gave you a serious nod and scurried off to her room as you went to run yourself a bath. You chewed the inside of your cheek nervously as you began to undress, considering the best way to go forward.

You joined the family downstairs an hour later, and again felt Charles’ eyes lock onto you. He was considering the differences between you and Constance, once more. Constance had changed into a lovely pale blue chiffon dress for the meal, while you had again chosen an outfit that could well be considered scandalous; a long-sleeved black satin cape-cod sheath that hugged you tightly. He was leering at you over his glass of wine as you entered the dining room.

You heard Merricat hiss when she pushed her Uncle Julian into the room, and deduced that her cousin was wearing one of her father’s suits. He had also placed himself at the head of the table. You gave a heavy sigh as you took your seat across from Constance, in between Charles and Julian. You gave the girls’ uncle a smile and polite greeting as Constance poured you a glass of wine.

“This looks wonderful as always, Constance.” You tipped your glass to her and gave her a small smile of appreciation before raising it to your lips. The poor woman was doing her best to ignore the excessive tension in the room, beaming at everyone seated around the table.

“I’m so glad you like it, Y/N. I made sure to make you some green beans amandine, I remembered that it’s your favorite.”

“It is, it’s so sweet that you remembered.” You praised her, sending her into a fit of tittering. “So, Julian, how are the memoirs coming?”

You smirked into your drink as the man started going on about the night of the murders. You could sense Charles tense up once he started talking and turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of the muscles in his jaw tense up as he took a swig of wine.

“That’s enough.” He seethed, slamming his glass back down on the table and taking a deep breath to recenter himself. His smile had a certain strain to it when he lifted his head again. “Let’s talk about happier things.”

“Oh, of course.” You murmured. “Merricat, how are your studies going?”

You saw his knuckles grow white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“Oh, I’ve learned six new spells since I last saw you, the first…”

“No.” He looked at you frustratedly as you threw a wink to Merricat, making her giggle. “How about we just, enjoy our meal, hmm?”

You shrugged at him and took another sip of wine before tucking into your dinner. Constance was such a wonderful cook, it was easy to lose yourself in the food. Everyone had a clean plate before long, and you stood to help Constance and Merricat clear the table.

“No, Y/N, you’re our guest, I don’t want you doing any work during your visit with us. It wouldn’t feel right.” Constance scolded you. “Please go join Charles and Julian in the lounge for some after-dinner drinks, oh, and maybe some dancing later, wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“That does sound lovely.” You turned to walk to the lounge but when you arrived, only Charles was there, pouring himself a glass of sherry. “Where’s Julian?”

“Julian decided to turn in for the night.” He told you as he focused on pouring his drink. “Did you want a sherry?”

“Yes, please.” He handed you a small glass and you took a sip, giving a hum of appreciation when the sweet liquor hit your tongue. “Constance is such a wonderful cook, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, Connie’s great.” He chuckled, turning to face you. You felt your hackles rising as he leered at you, his eyes roaming over your body with no reservations as he gave you a wolfish grin. “So what’s your story sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him but Constance chose that moment to enter the study, and he put up his charming façade again.

“My goodness, I didn’t realize how late it was.” She said, grinning at the two of you. “Will you think any less of me if I retire early? I feel like such a bad hostess.”

“Constance, please.” You gave her a soft look of reproach. “You need to take care of yourself, darling. Please rest, I’m sure Charles and I can find some way to entertain ourselves.”

“Yeah, go to bed, Connie.” Charles gave her a grin as he moved to refill his drink.

You shifted yourself as Constance turned to go, moving towards the desk slowly as you listened to her footsteps going up the stairs. You shifted a letter opener under your palm as you leaned back, waiting to hear the click of Constance’s bedroom door before you started talking again. You heard the click and turned to face Charles, tossing back all of your drink as a look of malice came over your face.

“Alright asshole, what’s your fucking game?” You seethed at Blackwood, sneering at the look of surprise that came over his face.

“Excuse me?” His accent slipped as he tried to recover, and you knew you had him.

“You come in here, zero prep, and manage to raise the hackles of these morons in what, a week?” You were furious, this man must be some kind of special idiot. “I’ve been working these fools for 2 years, asshole, I swear to god, if you ruin this for me…”

“Listen, bitch, I didn’t realize someone was already latched onto this teat.” You could tell he was pissed now, too, but you didn’t care. “But maybe, the fact that you haven’t gotten anywhere in 2 years means this just isn’t for you. I’ll do you a favor and cut you in for 10 percent once I get access to the safe.”

“The safe?” You covered your mouth so that your laughter wouldn’t carry. “You idiot. No wonder that stupid fucking kid is so worked up. You’re working a short-con on them? This is not going to go your way.” You were shaking with mirth.

He growled and slammed his glass on the bar cart, jostling the bottles dangerously. He was snarling as he closed the distance between you and wrapped a hand around your throat, pressing himself into you so hard the desk rattled. You brought up the letter opener and pressed it against his neck in warning, making him hiss.

The two of you stilled when you heard footsteps above you. You just stared at each other, panting heavily as you waited. The footsteps stopped suddenly, and you sighed in relief as you heard the creak of Constance finally climbing into bed.

“Listen dumbass,” You whispered at him, digging the blade into his neck to accentuate your point. “This is my score. I actually did my research, I ingrained myself to that brat, I fucked the damn simpleton, you think you can just waltz in here with that shit-eating grin and take it all away from me, you are very mistaken.”

He snorted at you, “Jesus, why would you fuck Julian?” he had slotted one of his knees between your thighs and started to edge up the hem of your skirt as he moved even closer to you.

“What?” You were doing your best to ignore the way your body was reacting to being in such close proximity to him. “No, the other simpleton, Connie. What, you haven’t?”

The look of surprise on his face was satisfying and annoying at the same time. You rolled your eyes as he released your throat and gave you an appreciative look.

“Well, fuck, sweetheart. You’re full of surprises.”

“Yeah, right.” You were tired of this. “Alright. We’re both to far into this now for either one to back out without arousing any suspicion. So, we’ll split it.” You pressed the letter opener into his neck when he scoffed at you. “Or, I could just cut your throat now, tell those two gals you assaulted me, and keep it all to myself. Which would you prefer?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Fine.” He spat at you. You had the upper hand for now, but he could find a way to get rid of you eventually, he was sure. His face split in a grin suddenly. “Y’know, we should consummate our little agreement in some way. Make it official.” He moved his hands behind you and pressed you into him roughly, making you gasp when you felt him grind his erection into your hip. “I can make you feel better than that stupid bitch did.” He moved a hand up the inside of your thigh until he was cupping your heat through your panties, groaning when he found you soaked.

You bit your lip as he ran his fingers over the sopping fabric of your panties, teasing them against your throbbing clit. You kept the blade against his throat as you rocked into his hand, begging for more friction.

“You wanna consummate it?” You gave him a wicked grin as you slowly withdrew the letter opener, tutting softly as a thin line of blood rose from his skin when it left. “Get on your knees.”

He pouted at you, that wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for. You shook your head and brought the blade back up to his neck swiftly, with a click of your tongue.

“Look at that, already not holding up your end.” You scolded as he eyed you warily.

He just grumbled at you as he sank to his knees, digging his fingers into your thighs and drawing them apart slowly. He hooked his fingers underneath the sides of your panties and drew them slowly down your legs. You withdrew the blade from his neck and set it aside as he latched his palms under your hips and pulled you to the end of the desk, running his freshly shaven cheek over the smooth skin of your inner thigh and inhaling your scent.

You broke eye contact when you felt him breathe against your entrance, thrusting your hips forward to drive yourself into his mouth as his tongue flicked out to taste you. He dragged it over your slit in a heavy stripe that had you panting with need. You ran your fingers through Charles’ hair and gripped tightly, drawing him closer to you as he moaned against your core.

“Fuck.” You murmured as you fell back on your elbow, screwing your eyes shut as he thrust his tongue into you, curling it inside your canal. “Charles.”

His fingers were gripping your thighs so hard above your stockings you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. His lips brushed softly against your folds as his tongue lapped up the evidence of your arousal greedily, making you moan.

You felt him release one thigh and bring his fingers to stroke over your slit as he disconnected his mouth to give you a wicked grin. “You need to be quiet, doll. All we need is you blowing the whole thing when I make you cum.” He plunged two fingers into you and curled them in a beckoning motion and you collapsed against the desk with a thud, writhing into his hand and whining softly.

You shoved your fist into your mouth and bit down on your knuckles when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently, making your back arch off the desk. He chuckled as he felt you clench around his fingers and he increased the pressure on your tiny bud, sucking even harder as your body rolled underneath him.

“That’s right sweetheart, cum for me.” He curled his fingers one more time as he latched onto you and that was that. You sobbed into your hand as your spine curled, every muscle in your body going rigid for just a beat before you were trembling in bliss, your release gushing over Charles’ chin as he kept fucking his fingers into you while you rode it out.

“God, darling, that was something.” He grinned down at you as he rose to stand between your legs, watching you shiver as aftershocks wracked your body. You looked sinful with your skirt bunched around your waist and your cunt on full display. One of your stockings had come loose from your garter belt and was starting to slide down your thigh. “If we’re gonna have an even partnership though, I think you owe me something.”

He bent over you and pressed his mouth to yours possessively, shoving his tongue between your swollen lips and probing the warm cavern of your mouth as he wrapped one hand around the back of your neck. His other hand started traveling underneath your back, searching for the buttons to undo your dress.

“Alright, fuck this.” He withdrew his hand from beneath you and started fumbling it around the desk searching for something. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the cool silver of the letter opener press against your chest, but he just drew in down in a quick slash, tearing open your dress and the thin lace of your bra until your breasts were exposed.

Charles watched the rise and fall of your chest hungrily as he rose above you, wrenching his tie and jacket off before starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. You reached down to undo his belt and whipped it off through the loops before working on the buttons of his pants. He stepped back when you had finished your work to slip out of his shoes before sliding his slacks down his legs and tossing his shirt aside.

He started tracing his fingers over your thighs lightly as he stepped closer, nudging his tip against your pussy and making you whine. Charles just chuckled as he teased you, one of his thumbs rubbing right next to your slit before withdrawing it again.

“Maybe we should renegotiate, doll.” He pressed the head of his cock into you slowly before dragging it out again. “I bet you’d give me anything right now just to get me to fuck this sweet little cunt.”

“Fuck you, Blackwood.” You hissed at him before it devolved into a moan as he brought up a hand to palm at your breast and you felt the sensation echo in your core as you clenched around nothing.

He lined himself up and clapped his palm over your mouth before spearing into you violently. You screamed into his hand and felt tears leak down your cheeks as another orgasm ripped through you and your shuddered as he began to fuck into you like a madman.

“God, this pussy is so tight, doll. So fucking warm and ready for me.” He kept his hand over your mouth as he bent to trace a bead of sweat that was trailing through the valley of your breasts with his tongue, moaning at the salty taste of you before mouthing softly over the slope of one breast to lave his tongue over your nipple. He laughed against your skin as he felt you clamp around him, your hips thrusting to match his as you neared another release. “You gonna be quiet if I move my hand, darling?” You nodded and sucked in a ragged breath when he removed his hand.

His hand moved underneath your hips and tilted you just slightly as he buried his face in your neck, sucking softly at the hollow behind your ear. You dug your nails into the muscles of his back when he brought his hand between the two of you to rub his fingers against your clit.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” You whispered, tossing your head back and arching into Charles as you felt a warm coil tightening in your stomach.

“Be quiet about it.” He hissed at you, pressing his cheek to yours as he continued rutting into you.

You dipped your head and sank your teeth into his shoulder as your pleasure took hold of you and you heard him swallow a shout as you fluttered around him, your legs holding him to you tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He growled in your ear, bringing up one hand to brace himself against the desk and stare into your eyes. “God, I’m close, darling. You got one more for me?”

You smirked and shoved him off you roughly, making him stumble back and land heavily on the settee. You crawled into his lap and sank onto him with a hiss, grinding into him slowly before you started fucking yourself on his cock.

Charles leaned back and gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you impaled yourself on his length over and over. You picked up the pace and he groaned as he watched your tits bounce with each thrust of his hips. You braced a hand on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed and you bit at your bruised lips. One more drive of his hips had you collapsing on top of him, your pussy strangling his cock as he fucked you through it. Your body rolled against him as he turned your head to kiss you deeply.

You felt his hips stutter and suddenly you were flooded with warmth as his seed shot into you, thick hot ropes of his spend filling you up and leaking out around his cock as he groaned into your mouth.

The two of you laid there for a bit, panting as you waited for your breathing to regulate. You were the first to move, standing over him and trying to think of some way to cover yourself long enough to make it to your room, eventually deciding to just pull the ruins of your dress over your shoulders and hope for the best. You smirked down at Charles as he started to sit up, his cock coated in a mix of your releases and his skin flushed. His perfectly coifed hair was now falling into his eyes in sweat-soaked curls as he gazed up at you through his thick lashes.

“I think this is the start of a pretty great partnership, darling.” You teased him over your shoulder as you headed back up to your room, leaving him to clean up the lounge on his own.

Not my gif

A/N: Surprise!! Our reader is a bad, bad girl! We’ll see what sort of other trouble she and Charles get up to!

[melzula]

Obstacles

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

requests: Could you write a Fire Lilies blurb where Zuko struggles with how to approach being around Princess Reader when she avoids him and/or gives him the silent treatment? // Hi- I was wondering if you could write a fire lillies blurb where, when the gaang first starts interacts with zuko, they are more protective of the reader. Simply because they know the history between the two.

a/n: the format of this is a little different than how I normally write but I think it works :)

Though Zuko had finally become a part of Team Avatar, he still found himself to be the odd one out of the group. From Katara’s cold glare to Sokka’s reluctance of being left alone with the prince, Zuko struggled to find his place amongst the group. It was odd and new and strange, but at least it was a start in the right direction, and his first step included mending things with the Princess. He had gotten her to fall in love with him once, so it couldn’t be that hard to do it again, right?

In truth, it was very hard. Zuko faced many obstacles and many set backs, and it would probably be some time before she even so much as looked at him, let alone forgave him...

~~~

Katara

Zuko watched from afar as the Princess handled her chores for the day, sitting peacefully by the fountain as she washed the clothes. Her movements were delicate but precise, the water flowing smoothly through the dirt and the grime collected on Toph’s green robes, and a faint smile graced her features as she hummed softly through the work. She was at peace and completely relaxed, more relaxed than Zuko had ever seen y/n in years. Even in Ba Sing Se there had always been a nervous edge to her, an edge she did her best to hide from Zuko, and she had almost been completely rid of it until the caves. He cringed at the thought, guilt overcoming him at the fact that she seemed so much better off without him.

“What are you doing?” Katara scowls accusingly, startling the Prince from his silent watch over y/n.

“I-“

“Y/N’s been really happy ever since she left you, and you’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you ruin that for her,” the water bender scolds harshly.

“I just want to apologize to her,” Zuko replies calmly, but Katara isn’t having it.

“A simple apology is never going to fix all the ways you’ve hurt her. Y/n deserves better, and if I ever see you make her upset or uncomfortable I won’t hesitate to step in.”

Zuko says nothing as Katara stalks away, he knows better than to get in her way when she’s angry, and when her retreating form finally disappears he looks back at the fountain.

The clothes have been washed, and the Princess is gone.

~~~

Sokka

The smell of stew was heavenly to Zuko’s rumbling tummy, and he was eager to join everyone by the fireside. Bowls had been served, seats had been chosen, and an empty spot beside the Princess was his for the taking.

“Excuse me, buddy,” Sokka chirps, patting Zuko heartily on the back before quickly sitting himself beside y/n. She smiles softly at the water tribe boy and offers him her leftovers to which he happily accepts.

Zuko deflates, choosing to sit next to Aang and enjoy his stew of failure. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it probably won’t be the last. He knew Sokka was just protecting her, and he couldn’t be mad at him for that. Sokka had probably done more for y/n in her time with him than Zuko had ever done, who was he to blame his protectiveness?

Y/n offers to take the empty dishes to wash, and as Zuko attempts to follow after her his path is quickly blocked by Sokka.

“Listen, I know you’re trying to make things right, and while I respect that, y/n’s asked me to keep you away from her,” he explains as gently as he can. “It’s nothing personal, but I care about her and I want to make sure she feels comfortable.”

“Oh... I understand,” Zuko utters quietly. “Will you at least tell her that I love her?”

“...I’ll do my best,” Sokka replies solemnly, watching with a pang of guilt as Zuko retreats to his room for the night.

~~~

Aang

“What am I supposed to do?” Zuko groans whilst tugging at his hair.

“You know I’m a firm believer in peace, and I do think that neither of you will be happy until your issues are resolved,” Aang comments wisely. “But I also think you should never force anything. Y/n will come around in her own time when she’s ready.”

“But that could take forever!” He protests. “I’ve already been away from her long enough, and being near her but not being able to speak to her is torture.”

Both boys turn their gazes towards y/n in the distance where she carefully brush Appa’s hair and talk to him about his day. The sight is very Princess like, which is fitting since she is a Princess after all, but the sweetness of it all makes Zuko’s heart ache with longing.

“What you did wasn’t right,” Aang sighs. “And she’s still healing. But, if she truly couldn’t stand you then she wouldn’t have given her blessing to let you stay.”

“She only let me stay so I could train you,” Zuko argues.

“Okay, that’s true. But she also washes your clothes, serves you dinner, and just the other day I saw her mending a hole in your boot. She won’t talk to you, but she does still care.”

“She’s always had such a big heart,” he murmurs dejectedly. “Back when I was still hunting you y/n always went out of her way to take care of me even if I didn’t want it. I was a fool to take her for granted.”

“I really do think you guys will work it out. Just don’t force anything, and you’ll be fine,” Aang comforts, and the two continue to watch the Princess as she tends to Appa.

~~~

Toph

With a bouquet of wild flowers in hand and his hair combed in that same horrid style his Uncle had given him back in Ba Sing Se, Zuko headed to her room in hopes of finally talking to the Princess. He knew how much y/n loved flowers, and he also knew how much she loved that ridiculously dorky hairstyle, so he hoped that the two combined together would at least earn him a smile in return.

But when he arrived to her part of the temple he found that her door was barricaded with a smooth slab of rock, and sitting a few feet away from said rock was Toph. The little girl sat leaning against the wall, legs crossed over each other and hands folded behind her head.

“Sorry, sparky, boss’s orders,” she explains with a small shrug, and Zuko deflates. “Personally I think she just needs to man up and face you, but until then I’ve been put under strict orders not to let you in.”

“She really hates me, doesn’t she?” Zuko sighs, joining Toph against the wall. The flowers in his hand are beginning to droop from the lack of water, much like his demeanor from his lack of y/n.

“No, but she’s very angry,” Toph corrects. “Really sad, too. Sokka’s already been in there three times tonight.”

“Are they...?”

“Together? He wishes,” the girl scoffs. “His heartbeat picks up a beat or two sometimes when he’s with her, but he’d never make a move on her. Not when she’s so upset and he’s the only one she can talk to.”

“Yeah, well maybe they should be together,” Zuko grumbles, the flower stems charring in his hands from the sudden heat that emits from his palms. “They’re both water tribe and he obviously takes care of her better than I ever could.”

“That’s true,” Toph nods much to Zuko’s dismay. “But she doesn’t love Sokka. She loves you.”

“Loved,” Zuko corrects only for Toph to roll her eyes.

“You dunderhead,” she mutters before punching him in the shoulder. “I should just knock your heads together and make you kiss and make up right now.”

“Can you do that?” Zuko asks hopefully only to receive another punch from Toph.

“You sure do have a lot to learn, sparky.”

~~~

The Princess

The morning is quiet and calm as you rise with the sun, heading out to collect the dew on the plants of the temple so that you may use it as water for your group. Other than Momo, who sits comfortably on your shoulders, everyone is asleep, giving you some time to decompress and enjoy the solitude of the rising sun.

“Anything I can help with?”

Or so you thought. Of course Zuko would approach you now when there was no one to keep him away from you. You say nothing in response, refusing to even look at him as you set down your bucket and begin to remove the dew from the leaves.

“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs. “Let me make it better.”

Zuko is met with silence and an eye roll. Momo chitters curiously at the Princess, receiving a head scratch in return which is more than Zuko can say.

“I never stopped thinking of you,” he says. “And I wish I could take back everything I’ve done to hurt you.”

“I don’t want your apologies,” you utter quietly. “I want you to go away.”

Hearing your voice after being met with silence for so long brings the boy to tears, and with a hesitant demeanor Zuko reaches out for you. However, at the sight of the water glowing your palms the Prince takes a step back. You’re not afraid to turn your bending on him, not anymore, and it isn’t until now that he realizes he really has hurt you, more than he could ever have imagined.

“Y/n...”

“Go. Don’t make me ask again.”

With a defeated sigh Zuko turns away and leaves the Princess to her own devices. She goes back to tending to the dew, and the Prince goes back to his room to wallow in his shame.

Both have tears streaming down their faces.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @eridanuswave @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang |

[oigimi]

. owlet .

. mozart and baby oc . found family . 1.9k words .

here’s a found family fic that’s been in my head for awhile now! i really hope you like it. mozart seems like the kind of guy to have a daughter

A cry filled the mansion’s halls, piercing the ears of all who heard it. It was relatively late at night, and everyone was gathered at the front door, staring at quite the unusual package. Gifts and shipments would grace the mansion’s front doors often, but this… this was something entirely different. Rather than a case of Rouge or Blanc, or a bouquet of roses or anything in the ordinary, the residents of le Comte’s mansion stood in front of a baby girl in a basket, with a tag attached reading, “My name is Asuka. Please take care of me.”

“Asuka… Just like- Ah, never mind,” Sebastian started, waving his hand. He bent down to pick the screaming infant up, only to have her screech even louder, and swat her hands around in an angry little tornado.

“Sebas, you’re holding her wrong! You need to-” Arthur’s attempts at calming Asuka were even more fruitless, with her fighting to wriggle out of his arms. He passed her on to Theo, who scared her. She was given to Comte, then Leonardo, then eventually everyone in the room before being returned to her basket.

Vincent looked downwards, his mouth tugged downwards in a frown. “What do we do? I feel so bad for her, she won’t even stop crying. Poor little baby…”

“Broer, she tried to bite you!”

“She’s just little and scared! You were like that too once, Theo.”

As the younger brother clammed up, a final face showed itself that hadn’t been present before.

“What’s all this noise? Whatever you’re all doing, can you wrap it up soon? Or perhaps be a little quieter?” Mozart hissed, marching right up to his roommates and their new problem. He caught sight of Asuka and wrinkled his nose. “Arthur, did one of your little flings catch up with you?”

“No! She’s just a darling little thing that showed up on our porch and we simply can’t get her to stop crying. If you want to get her to be quiet, why not try and hold her?”

Mozart looked at the screeching infant, whose face was reaching a color as hot and fiery as her hair. “No,” he simply said. Babies were messy and loud and provided everything he didn’t want in his life. But, Arthur was right. If there was any way he could try and fix the problem, it was to try and hold this thing. Mozart took a deep breath and took the baby out from the basket, shaking his head and awkwardly cradling her in his arms. “There… there. I suppose.”

“You’re supposed to bounce her,” Vincent chuckled, guiding Mozart into rocking Asuka to the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Just like that.” They looked down, and everyone’s faces melted into shock when Asuka finally stopped crying. Her big, glossy blue eyes were coated with tears, but she stared up in wonder at Mozart, or rather the feather in his jacket. She reached her tiny hand out to grab it.

“No. You’re just going to put it in your mouth and get sick.”

Asuka scrunched her face and pouted, reaching a little harder for the feather. She fussed, to which Mozart simply scoffed.

“No.”

“No!” she echoed, shaking her head. “No, no!”

“She’s already learning to speak like him,” Arthur snickered. “Oh, isn’t that just precious?”

Mozart glared at him as he tried to keep the baby away from his feather. He sat down on the couch, holding Asuka away from his body as if she carried a disease. “How long do I have to hold this thing?”

“Until she goes to sleep. Mozart, can’t you take care of this baby for just one night until we can figure out what to do with her?” Comte asked, tilting his head to the side. “It would mean you can get to your music faster, anyway.”

He looked at Asuka, who was still making fruitless attempts to obtain Mozart’s jacket feather, scowling in contempt at her. “Fine. But only for one night.”

“We all know how ‘just for tonight’ goes. You’ll be with her on her wedding day now!” Dazai mused, earning another deep scowl.

“I am not fathering this child.”

Asuka began to fuss, wriggling around and squirming in Mozart’s arms. He moved his arms so that she was gently pressed against him. “There… I suppose.” He swayed his body to the rhythm Vincent showed him, slowly patting her back. Before he knew it, she was yawning and her grabbing began to stop. “Hm. I’m putting her down to bed. Then I’m going back to my music.”

“Are you sure you should leave her alone? I think she’s gotten quite fond of you!” Arthur chuckled. “You might just wake her up if you leave.”

“Are you serious?” He groaned and looked down at the baby. “I guess I’m going to go to sleep too. The sooner I sleep the sooner time moves forward. Goodnight.”

Without another word, Mozart made a quick stop in the kitchen to warm up some milk. He swiped some chocolate, and glanced down at Asuka. She looked so… relaxed. So cute, even. Mozart couldn’t deny that he didn’t like babies, but the child he held in his arms felt a little different. He didn’t like her very much, but he couldn’t let anyone else take care of her. For some reason, it felt warm in his chest when she would only relax in his arms. As if he was meant to be her father in some way.

He grabbed a second, little cup with this in mind.

When he got to his room, Mozart made a tiny bed on the carpet with layers and layers of blankets and pillows, and laid Asuka down in it. She stirred, and made little cries in her sleep. Was she upset that Mozart had set her down? Could she even tell? It didn’t matter, he still felt a little bad for her. “We’ll get you a proper bed tomorrow. I couldn’t put you in a drawer or in your small basket,” he sighed. “You’re annoying and I don’t like you, but you’ll get a crib tomorrow. Goodnight, owlet.”

------

The next morning was full of diapers, crying, hissy fits, and screaming. Sebastian had run to pick up some basic supplies, but it ultimately did very little in the vampires’ battle against a fussy baby. She didn’t like peas, she didn’t like corn, and Vincent had to learn that babies can’t eat pancakes. What could she eat that would make her happy?

“Warm milk,” Mozart huffed, taking some off the stove. He poured some in the little cup he’d carried and let it cool off to a safe temperature. With some strict, yet gentle coercion, he managed to bring the cup to Asuka’s lips and help her drink as much as her tiny stomach could handle. “What was so hard? Babies like milk.” He grumbled a bit and cleaned out the cup. “Morons.”

“Well well well! You really are like a natural father to her!” Dazai chuckled. “What did we predict?”

“Nothing. I’m just not a fool,” Mozart snapped back, lifting Asuka out of the chair and burping her. “The plan today is to get some more supplies. But I am shopping for them.”

“Are you sure you do not want anyone to help carry anything?” Jean mumbled. “I can hold items at the store for you and help take them home.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

Jean’s workplace ended up with a bit more than he expected, with a nice crib and mobile and a lot of bottles and sippy cups. The Frenchman blinked at the juxtaposition between the baby supplies and the items of war he sold in the shop. Mozart mentioned only taking care of Asuka for a few days. The abundance of furniture seemed like overkill.

At a nearby store, Mozart stood next to a stroller with his fussy responsibility inside. He scanned the shelves for toys, putting a set of blocks, paints, and a few stuffed animals inside. He stopped, however, when he laid eyes upon a stuffed snowy owl. “Just like Schelm…” he chuckled. He took the toy off the shelf and held it to Asuka. “Do you want an owl? An owl for the owlet?”

“Ow,” she replied, reaching out for the toy. “Ow!”

“Is that your way of saying ‘owl’? Alright, here you go. Be nice to it.” He paid for the toys and found himself looking in the stroller at the baby. She was cuddling her new toy and inspecting its wings and rubbing it, inspecting it for anything of interest. “It’s just a stuffed animal. Silly,” he chuckled. “Let’s get you home now. I have a feeling you’ll start screaming here in a moment.”

By the time night had arrived, the crib, bookshelf, mobile, and toys were all set up. Asuka was shaking a rattle on the floor when Mozart picked her up. “Alright, it’s time for bed. Come on.”

“Noooo!” she cried. “Nooooooo!”

“Yes. Come on.”

She fussed and began to cry, reaching down at the floor for her rattle.

“No rattles in bed,” Mozart huffed. “Here, I have something you can take in bed.” He reached down on the floor and handed her the stuffed owl. “Here. Your owl.”

“Ow.”

“That’s right. Your ow,” Mozart chuckled, setting Asuka down in the crib with her stuffed toy. “Goodnight, Asuka. You’re a silly little owlet who needs plenty of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he wound up a music box and turned off the lights.

------

“Papa, can I get the first slice?” Asuka asked, beaming wide at a large cake in the kitchen. “Better yet, I want the whole thing!”

“You can’t have the whole cake because you’ll get sick. You have my sweet tooth.” Mozart finished moving the cake to the table and sighed, “I can’t believe you’re sixteen years old now.”

“Old enough to get a boyfriend!”

“Let’s not go that far.”

“But you said when I turned sixteen I could!! Papa, you’re being unfair.”

Mozart chuckled and ruffled his daughter’s hair. “Alright, go sit down at the table.”

She did as she was told and grinned, admiring all the presents everyone in the mansion had bought for her. From personalized books from Uncle Arthur to a paint set from Uncle Vincent to expensive clothes from rich Uncle Comte, Asuka was surrounded with so many luxuries given to her by the people who loved her. She was adopted into the greatest family she could imagine, and by the best father she could ever want. Sure, Asuka had a bit of an attitude sometimes, but she always knew when the important things needed to be said.

“I love you Papa,” she murmured, getting up and hugging Mozart. “Thanks for taking care of me, and thanks for all the birthday gifts.”

He smiled, embracing his daughter tightly in his arms. “I love you too. I love you so, so much, Asuka. You gave my life and music meaning like no other… Are you crying?”

“N-no! I don’t cry!”

“Okay.” He kissed his daughter’s forehead and sat down at the table. “No matter how old you get, whether you’re sixteen or sixty, you’ll always be my little owlet. I love you so much, and happy birthday.”

[strawberrylemonz]

Gates Opened Wide

Part 10

Part 11 [CURRENT]

Part 12

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin

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

“Clem, do not make me use your full name, big lass! Stand still! Damnit-”

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

“You learn how to speak more than usual, and you choose to copy my curse words, Jesus Christ. If you’re going to curse, then do it correctly. Now, hold still- hey! No hissing! You put those claws away! Clementine, stop shapeshifting!”

After spending an hour after “early breakfast,” Tommy had finally managed to dress the squealing girl for the day. It was on mornings like this that made him wish he would be on Theo duty, leaving Clem to be dressed by Fundy. But, alas, that day was not today. It took telling Clem that she would be wearing matching outfits with her cousin to convince the rascal to sit still long enough for Tommy to get her ready. She was nearly vibrating by the time Tommy added the finishing touches to her braided hair. Once he pulled his hands away from her small head, she hopped off the chair and run over to Fundy’s room, where Theo was getting ready. Sighing as he stood up, Tommy couldn’t help but laugh as he heard the bedroom door swing open with a slam, a squeaky voice squealing in sync with a happy yell, as well as a startled one. Shaking his head, Tommy finished fixing his hair, adjusting his collar in the process. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening alerted him of their visitors. Sighing, he prepared for the quick force that would engulf him into a hug. 

“There’s my baby of a brother!”

Tommy slightly cursed as he was nearly toppled over, only being saved by the winged embrace of his proud brother. He hugged his brother back, truly happy to see him excited for the day. The hug, however, lasted longer than their usual long hugs, which was causing Tommy to bite back a groan. His efforts, unfortunately, meant nothing, therefore he groaned as he playfully flailed his arms behind his brother’s back, who only held him tighter. 

“Muuuuuuuum, Grian won’t stop squeezing me!!!”

A playful laugh rang through the air, serving as the only warning for the older brother. Before he could pull away, a nerf dart hit him square on the forehead. Welping in shock, Grian pulled away, patting his forehead, which was slightly more exposed than usual due to him fixing his hair in a proper manner. Tommy picked up the dart, laughing as he handed it back to a laughing Kristin, who’s curled hair bounced with every laugh. 

“Grian, you’re going to wrinkle your shirt! We all spent all morning making ourselves presentable, don’t ruin it.”

“I’m not going to ruin it, we still have the gala at the end of the week to look our best! I am, however, gonna have a red dot on my forehead now.”

“Oh, no you’re not. Stop crying over nonsense, you big baby.”

“How am I the baby, when Tommy is standing right there”

“Oi, shut the fuck up, fucker”

“Don’t make me shove a bar of soap in your mouth”

After everyone was finally dressed and ready to go, they pulled the two kids aside. After they had succeeded in obtaining the children’s attention for more than a minute, Tommy spoke up.

“Alright, you two, listen up. Today is the day that a lot of people are going to be here. Remember to stick with us, and don’t talk to shifty shitheads you don’t know, got it?”

“Sh-”

“Do not finish that word, Clementine”

“Humph”

“Anyways, remember the secret spots? Well, if you get separated from us, stick together and go the the secret passageways if you two get in danger, okay? You two know your way around, I know you do. Just stick together, take care of each other, and have fun, alright?”

“Mkay, Uncle T”

“Good. Now, Theo, your father made a device for both you and Clem. Fundy, if you will.”

The man nodded as he knelt down to the level of the children. Smiling, he opened up his paws, revealing two pretty bracelets. Decorating them were various colors of gems. As he put them on their wrists, he explained how to use them.

“Don’t tell anyone that isn’t from this server, or isn’t the lovely trio or Stampy about these, okay? These are connected to all our communicators. If, for whatever reason you can’t use your communicators to contact us, you can use these. Each of these are connected to a singular communicator, see? This gem represents me, this one represents Tommy, this one is Uncle Grian, and this one is Grandma Kristin! I also labeled the other ones, so you know who you’re contacting. There’s Tubbo, Lani, Stampy, Drista, Iskall, Xisuma, Stress, Impulse-”

“I think they get it, Fundy. We can’t spend the entire day naming everyone.”

“I wouldn’t take the entire day! Anyways, this is how you’ll reach to us without anyone knowing. If you push the big gems on the middle, everyone is alerted and Xisuma will teleport to you. Don’t take them off, okay?”

“Mkay”

“Yes, Papa”

“Good. Ready to go?”

The adults laughed as the children switched from serious to excited within seconds. Taking the hands of the excited children, the family went on their way.

--------

Tommy stood at the entrance of his park, his family by his side. The Hermits helped him in putting up a wall around the park, shielding every detail from the eyes of the public. Today was finally the day of his opening, and he was excited. Maybe a little nervous, but mostly excited. Sighing in relief, he smiled as three figures approached him. Opening his arms, he welcomed the warm hug that came with Tubbo’s greeting.

“Tubbo!”

“Tommy!”

“We’re here too, y’know.”

“Lani! Oh, hey, Drista-”

“Hey!”

The four of them laughed as Stampy joined them, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Handing the bouquet to Tommy, he couldn’t help but remark about how excited he was.

“-And look at all of you! Oh! You all look lovely and dapper! Everyone from my server is here to show our support! We came super early to beat the crowds! Look at us! Getting the best seats to the opening! I’m going to go gather the rest of my server, do excuse me. We’ll be back to start the crowd!”

Clementine and Theo waved enthusiastically as the neighboring server admin waved, walking away as he let to find the rest of his friends. Smiling, Tommy handed the bouquet to the children, who held it with gentle care. Despite being rowdy and loud together, anything from Stampy could reduce the two the silent happiness. This was always a relief to the adults, who, even though were rowdy as well, could not catch a break with the bouncing toddlers.

“Big day, isn’t it?”

“Oh, you know it is.”

Everyone continued to converse as they attempted to pass the time. Halfway through their conversation, a cheerful voice, which belonged to Impulse, sounded through the communicators.

“Gates are opening, crowd control is being initiated.”

“On it, thank you.”

Gulping, Tommy accepted the words of encouragement that came from his family and friends as they made their way off the stage, joining the rest of Stampy’s server at the front of the crowd, which was now slowly growing as more people trickled in. Stepping behind the curtains that flowed slightly in the cool breeze, Tommy recalled the conversation he had earlier. 

------

“And then I call you each on stage to help me with the unveiling.”

“That’s a great idea, Tommy”

“Thanks, Tubzo”

“You want me to help? Are you sure?”

“Yes, Fundy, I want you to help. You are my nephew, which makes you family.”

“Even us?”

“Yes, Theo, even you and Clem. There is one concern, though...”

“What is it?”

“What if Dream’s server comes? I can’t just force you guys up there-”

“Uncle, it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. X made it so that the guests can’t harm or maim us outside of the dueling areas. Even then, they can’t do much.”

“But, Fundy, what about Dream-”

“It’s like you said, Tommy, we’re family.”

------

Tommy’s communicator snapped him out of his thoughts. Peering down, he saw that Xisuma had sent a private message to him.

XisumaVoid: The stage mics will turn on in a minute. Once the timer hits 30 seconds, the machine will play Pigstep in the background. Good luck, you got this 

Tommy sent a quick message of acknowledgment and appreciation back to the admin, quickly adjusting his shirt and fixing his hair. Taking deep breaths, he hyped himself up as Pigstep began to play in the speakers, causing the hermits and lovely’s to cheer, initiating the rest of the guests to follow in suit. Inhaling a deep breath, Tommy released the air as he gave a nice, charming smile as the curtains opened, revealing him and the crowd to each other. Doing his best not to break his professionalism, he bit back a laugh as he heard Iskall’s voice overpowering everyone else’s”

“GO TOMMY!!! LOOK AT HIM GO, THAT’S OUR BOY!!!”

Waving to the crowd before him, he allowed his eyes to hover over the crowd, taking note of the faces before him. His friends and family, of course, were situated before everyone else in the crowd, the members of Stampy’s server behind them. The Hermits were scattered about, helping disperse the energy whilst being some form of security for opening day. Then, he spotted them. There, stood near the center of the crowd, stood the members of the Dream SMP, both old and new. He couldn't tell who was all there, solely because he did his best not to alert them that he knew they were there. Making eye contact with his nephew, he silently plead for guidance on what to do. Fundy, who understood the meaning behind the look, gave his uncle a nod of encouragement. Readjusting his smile, Tommy cleared his throat as the music slowly deafened, leaving only his voice to speak above everyone else. 

“Welcome! I’m about to do something really fucking annoying, but this server and the neighboring server finds it hilarious. That being said, CAN I GET A HUMINA IN THE CHAT???”

Laughter filled the large crowd as Hermits and Lovely’s alike began chanting the word, over and over again. They died down once Tommy let out a genuine laugh, making his friends smile. Clearing his throat, he spoke up again.

“Ahah, I apologize for that. It’s kinda of a tradition we have when I do productive shit around here. Anyways! Welcome everybody to the grand opening of my park, ‘Innit an Adventure?’! I genuinely want to welcome and thank you all for coming to celebrate such a special day for us Hermits and Lovely’s alike. When I first began this ambitious project, I did so to cope with my trauma. When words failed to express my emotions, I turned to building. That, in itself is saying something. I mean it, ask any of the Hermits here, they’ll tell you. I was a little shit with shittier building abilities. But they didn’t give up on me, and I eventually became able to create this wonderful world on my own. Know that if you are in a rough place, help is available almost anywhere. If, at any point today, any of you feel overwhelmed or panicky, we have designated panic rooms designed to help calm your nerves. The new pamphlets you all received upon entering the portal show not only the map, but a key that will point you to certain points, like the panic rooms. As much as I want this place to be a fun place for all, I want it to be a safe space, too.”

Peering over to the front, he was encouraged to continue when Clementine waved in a hyper manner to him. Letting out a chuckled, Tommy continued. 

“Although I managed to create this myself, I couldn’t have made it to this point without the support from my fellow Hermits.”

He initiated a round of applause as every member of Hermitcraft stood up and waved, some teasing Tommy. Rolling his eyes, he waved them off as he pretended to walk off. Laughing as he stood back on his spot, he gave a genuine smile. 

“No, seriously. They had to deal with the little shit that is me, and they did so wonderfully. They guided me through, what I thought, was impossible to guide me through. Truly, thank you. I would also like to thank the lovely trio of terror. When I fell into this world, quite literally, I was scared about where my friends could be, especially my best friend. Luckily, I soon found out what happened to him. Please welcome to the stage, these three headaches that I call my close friends, Tubbo Underscore, Lani Sky Underscore, and Drista Never Taken!”

Applause filled the air as the three lovely’s walked up stage, waving to the crowd. Wearing their matching outfits, Tubbo and Lani stood on either side of Tommy. Drista, who had worn a cleaner version of her mask, stood on Lani’s other side. As the applause died down, Tommy smiled at his friends as his cheerful voice sprung up.

“Hello!”

“Hi!”

“Hello, everyone!”

“After discovering where they were and that they were okay, my mental state improved greatly. They have inspired so many prizes and attractions in this park, which only proves that they have done so much good for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I also have some amazing family to thank. Let’s start with an amazing, strong woman, who has an even more amazing aim. Please welcome to the stage, my mother! Kristin Minecraft!”

As the trio took a step back, Kristin handed Clem over to Stampy, who happily accepted the giddy girl. Making her way to the stage, she embraced Tommy, giving him a kiss on the forehead as he lowered his head to her, already expecting it. Hugging him one last time, she joined the trio as Tommy spoke of her. 

“The way I found her was quite amusing. She really is a lifesaver, thank fucking god for her. Although I didn’t have her around while I was growing up, due to her disappearing before I was even around, she has done more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. She truly is an amazing mother and woman. Go Mumza! Go Motherinnit!”

Laughter erupted from the crowd as Kristin gently smacked him upside the head. Although it didn’t hurt, he still cringed as he peered down at her. 

“What was that for?”

“You’re being too sweet, only to revert to your rambling. Stay on track.”

“Yes, Mumza.”

As she nodded in approval, Kristin made her way back to the trio, who were openly laughing at their friend. Grumbling, Tommy faced the crowd once more. 

“Not only is he friend and a fellow Hermit, he is my brother. Quite literally. Give a big hand for my big brother! Grian- HEY, WHAT THE FUCK, MAN”

He heard his friends and family laugh as Grian opened his wings, rushing forward in the air towards his little brother. Picking him up, Grian hugged his brother before plopping him back on the stage in a less than graceful manner. Dusting himself off, Tommy couldn’t help but pretend to whine.

“What’s up with you assholes, and Mumza. Is it embarrass TommyInnit day???”

He could only muffle a handful of curses as Grian shrugged, a cheeky smile forming on his face. Shooting a smile of his own towards Grian, gave his brother a playful punch. 

“When I first arrived, Grian and I bounced off each other perfectly. We fit together, like brothers and shit. Turns out, much to my surprise, we were brothers. Crazy, right? I was like, holy shit, oh my-”

“Tommy”

“-right, sorry. Anyways, Grian was a brother that I had lost at a young age, too young to fully remember much about him. You could say the stars aligned in perfect order to allow me to reunite with him.”

Snickers could be heard from the Hermits and Lovely’s, catching the implications that came with Tommy’s words. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He could practically hear Fundy’s groans from where he stood. Using the anticipated embarrassment of his nephew, Tommy let out a booming voice for the next sentence. 

“Everyone, give a hand for my fucking amazing, brilliant nephew, Fundy! Look at him go! Such speed! Amazing!”

Fundy hurried up the stares, a murderous look in his eyes. Once he was near his uncle, he smacked his arm. 

“You just had to be theatrical with my introduction, didn’t you?”

“Just for you, Fundy”

“Oh, don’t play that card with me, Uncle.”

Scratching in between his nephew’s ears, Tommy put an arm around him, keeping him beside him, instead of with the others. 

“Fundy is a brilliant and intelligent man full of love. He is very passionate about family and his projects, and has a brain that flows with all this smart and creative shit. Although I had completed the park, he came in and showed me ways to improve and add on to it. He has truly been an amazing help to me, and I couldn’t have done some of the things I did without him beside me. Speaking of having someone to stand beside him, I’d like to welcome Fundy’s pride and joy to the stage. Please give a kind and genuine welcome to my great nephew, Fundy’s son, Theo!”

Fundy knelt down with open arms as his son ran up the steps to the stage. Theo couldn’t help but giggle as Fundy lifted him into his arms. Smiling, Theo leaned over to give Tommy a hug, his small paws papping his great uncle’s face. 

“Hi, Uncle T”

“Hey, big man”

Theo giggled once more as Tommy ruffled his hair. Curling his tail around his father’s arm, Theo gave the crowd a toothy smile as Fundy stood behind Tommy, situating himself between Grian and Kristin. Once the crowd regained their attention towards their main host, they noticed how he seemed to glow. To them, it was most likely dismissed by the sunlight. To those who knew of Clara, however, knew that it was her warmth, holding his head up in pride. 

“And finally, last but certainly not least, the final member of my family. Please, put your hands together for my magnificent moth, my beautiful butterfly. Please welcome, my Clementine.”

The crowd was a mix of applauding and worried gasps as Clem, being the gremlin she was, chose to not use the stairs. Instead, wanting chaos, she had decided to climb the beams. As people began to panic, the people on stage, as well as the Hermits and Lovely’s laughed. Tommy rolled his eyes as he extended his arms. Smiling, he called up to the troublemaker.

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

Clementine laughed as she jumped straight into Tommy’s arms. Once he safely caught her, she began squealing as she frantically moved her hands from clapping and waving. Once he assured the crowd that she was being watched by the Hermits and would have been safely taken down if she was in danger, everyone was ready for the reveal. Giggling as she loosely wrapped her arms around Tommy’s neck, Clem pointed to the stand in the center. Making incoherent excited noises, she and Theo began to wiggle out of their guardian’s arms, racing towards it as soon as their little feet touched the ground. Pulling themselves up, they revealed a lever. And as everyone on stage put their hands on the lever, they all nodded to Tommy. Taking a breath, said man smiled as he and his close ones pulled the lever. The sound of Redstone filled the air as the wall surrounded the park began to disappear into the ground.

“Everyone! I, Thomas Theseus Minecraft, welcome you all to ‘Innit an Adventure?’!”

They were all greeted by the loud cheers of guests as the gates opened wide.

[amorgansgal]

Cruel, Cruel World - I've Been Living Too Long

So here's the first chapter of my Charlotte x Arthur fic, it was inspired by @rivetingrosie4's other idea suggestion during the TY Giveaway I did. I liked both so much and wanted to do an Arlotte story anyway, that I decided to write it as well as The Bitter End! It will cover their meeting and feelings for each other, but it's going to be a tale of unrequited love, so prepare yourself for angst and feelings!

You can read it on AO3 and The Bitter End on AO3 too.

Warnings: Depiction of skinning and gutting an animal.

The first time they meet she’s still crying. The overwhelming shock of grief that left her gasping for air and howling like a wounded animal is gone, replaced with tired sobs. Her back and shoulders ache from digging, there are blisters coming up on her fingers. Charlotte knows she must look a sight, her blouse is covered in filth, mud smeared across her face, tear tracks run down her cheeks and her eyes are red and sore.

She has no widow weeds, nothing suitable to wear for a funeral. The closest she can get to is a blue blouse and a grey-green plaid skirt. She hadn’t exactly planned on having a funeral. What young couple does? Why would she think that the beginning of their new, exciting and adventurous life would mean the end?

Charlotte thinks about the one funeral she attended a long time ago. A Great Uncle. They hadn’t been close so she felt no real absence or loss. Grief had been a pretty thing, played out with processions, quiet sobs, small handkerchiefs fluttering like white birds amongst a black sky. A neat, tidy performance. What would all those people think of her now, crawling in the mud, dirt etched into her fingernails, her belly aching with hunger, as she sobs hopelessly?

‘We’ll read books and we’ll grow vegetables like we did back home and we’ll learn as we go!’ Cal’s excitable words haunt her now. What absolute fools. It would take thousands of books, hundreds of years to learn what they needed to know. ‘We don’t need anything special. All we need is each other.’

She’s so lost in thought, feeling her heart beating traitorously against her chest, that she doesn’t even hear the man’s footsteps or the rustle of grass at his approach.

‘Er, you alright there?’ A warm, rumbling voice says.

She turns quickly and gets to her feet. ‘Who are you?’

He’s as tall and broad as an oak, wearing a light brown leather jacket and blue shirt. His soft brown hair touches the collar of his shirt and rough stubble lines his cheeks and jaw. The hat on his head is tipped back slightly, as though knocked by a branch, and she tries to gauge from his blue-green eyes whether he will hurt her. He looks rough, strong, doubtless he could injure her if he wanted to.

He raises his hands in surrender, though she has already seen the revolvers at his hips and the rifle slung across his back. ‘Oh, it’s okay, ma’am. I don’ mean you no harm.’

What does it matter if he does? The world has pulled every last bit of love and warmth away from her. If he knocked her into the ground, raped her, robbed her, killed her, would it really matter? She cannot feel anything anymore, her body won’t allow her to feel any more pain.

Charlotte watches him cautiously, his gaze steady and sure. No sense of danger within them and better still no false pity or assumed grief. He doesn’t know her; he isn’t going to pretend to feel her pain. For that she’s grateful.

‘Well, it makes no difference now. If an outlaw or wild animal doesn’t get me, starvation will.’ She says hollowly. She looks over to Cal’s grave and sees with shame that the flowers she left on it are streaked with mud. She thinks about the bouquets and wreaths that were given at her Great Uncle’s funeral. So lovely looking and well ordered, that they almost didn’t look like real flowers.

Charlotte picks up Cal’s flowers and does her best to wipe away the smears of mud. When she turns her head, the stranger is still there, watching her. There’s still no artifice in his gaze and almost without meaning to she finds herself speaking openly to this man.

‘We came out here from the city in search of a different life. Something true, something real. All this squandering and indulgence we wanted to strip it away, to find something authentic.’ She hates the words, she hates herself. If this man mocks her now, she wouldn’t blame him. What a stuck-up prig she sounds.

A sob gets caught in her throat and she almost chokes. ‘What a pair of fools.’

He looks away briefly, almost a little uncomfortable with her grief, but then returns his sea green eyes to her. He looks saddened for her, but more for the situation she’s in rather than anything else. He does not deride her dreamy notions of escape and adventure, he does not pity their foolishness, he won’t offer false sentiments of his condolences for her.

‘Is there a train station or a town I can take you to?’ he offers.

His offer is sensible, practical, reasonable. Everything she and Cal hadn’t been. Her head says she should take the stranger up on it, pack her things, head back to Chicago. But to what? To a family that will give her nothing but pitiful looks? To in-laws that will do the same but may whisper behind their hands about her? To a society that will look at a childless woman in her thirties and will shake their heads at the shame? Her heart tells a different story. Do this for Cal, do this to show the world you can, do this to show this strange man you aren’t afraid.

‘No, I can’t give up now. He wouldn’t want that. I… I can’t have it.’

She turns to the grave, looking at the rough wooden cross she had made from two planks nailed together. ‘I’m going to do this for you… Cal.’ The very act of saying his name aloud says a sharp wave of pain through her, but she bites back her sobs.

‘Well…’ the stranger murmurs. She begins to walk past him to go back to the little cabin Cal and her once called home. Her muscles are stiff and aching and she struggles to walk normally. ‘I’ll erm… I’ll leave you to it.’

The tight feeling in her chest grows as the restrained sobs seem to grow more and more, pressing against her throat and lungs, till her eyes burn. He’ll leave her, he’ll go and she’ll be alone to face this terrifying, looming pit of grief and hunger and pain and loss. Charlotte staggers and drops to her knees, the tears all too easily dripping from her face and the pitiful sob forces its way up. She hears his footsteps stop, but she can’t look back, she can’t watch this man go.

‘Damn fool,’ she thinks. ‘Damn, damn you, Charlotte. You don’t know this man; you can’t feel pain at his leaving. He would leave at some point. What would he do otherwise? Offer to stay with a grieving widow?’

‘Is there anything left for you to eat?’ The warm, gravelly voice asks.

She looks at him, wishing she could offer a real smile. He might be uncomfortable, but he’s kind. Unreasonably so to a widow he’s found in the cold grey afternoon who is acting like an idiot. Any normal man might just leave her to her fate, rolling their eyes at the ridiculous notion of her surviving.

‘Nothing.’ Charlotte manages to fight back her tears again and gets to her feet. ‘No, we didn’t know the first thing about hunting, we… couldn’t even catch a darn mouse. If you need any poisonous berries though, I’m a natural at finding those.’

The joke is a poor one and it sticks uncomfortably in her throat. Though the man does the decent thing and lets out a small murmur of amusement. She realises she is still holding the flower from Cal’s grave in her hand. The flowers are almost wilted, the petals sticky with mud. Tears burn in her eyes again; she can’t even do this part right.

‘Well… you ain’t goin’ to last much longer out here if you don’ know how to hunt. Come on,’ he says, gently cajoling her. She gazes up at him seeing his expression has softened considerably. ‘I’ll show you.’

She feels strangely reassured as she rises to her feet. ‘Alright… But you better not try any funny business. You know, I may be weak but I still know how to stand up for myself.’

‘Oh, I don’ doubt it,’ he gives her a quick smile. From anyone else it would be mocking, but it’s genuine from him. ‘Come on.’ He gestures with a hand for her to follow and Charlotte is surprised when she finds her feet moving towards the pathway.

She looks back to the grave. Despite the hunger the claws in her stomach, the grief that weighs heavily on her heart and the tiredness she feels from digging that cold, dark pit, a small glimmer of hope seems to blossom inside her. Perhaps in the moment of absolute loss and heartache, Cal has guided this man to her. Perhaps he was still looking out for her. Charlotte looks back at the man walking ahead, his reassuring smile that he turns on her so welcoming she could weep all over again.

Arthur walks through the woods, hearing the quiet, steady footsteps of the woman beside him. He finds himself still reeling at the thought of his eagerness to help her, perhaps the old Arthur would have turned aside. The old Arthur Morgan would have shaken his head and left the woman weeping by the grave. He doesn’t like to think if he would have done anything worse, but there’s no denying it, he did go here because of a robbery tip.

Old Arthur wouldn’t have time to teach her to hunt, to survive. But for all that his time is rapidly running out, it seems almost as though he has plenty of it. Plenty of time to offer help and aid instead of a cold shoulder of indifference. More and more he longs to help others. Perhaps it a longing for redemption, to do what little right he can do. A lifetime of sins isn’t easy to unpick and untangle, but he can at least balance out the bad with some good.

He glances at her, trying to see the woman underneath the streaks of mud on her face and the mask of grief her features have become. Dark hair that is straggly and unkempt, eyes swollen, her clothes plastered with mud.

‘Tell me, you ever skinned an animal before?’ He needs to know how much she knows; he doubts whether a city girl would ever need to learn such a skill, but he could be wrong.

‘No, but then again, I haven’t caught much of anything either.’

For all the comfort and privilege of her upbringing, he appreciates her humour and straight forwardness. ‘Well, you’ll need to know how to do both if you’re going to survive out here.’

‘I am all too aware,’ she replies grimly. ‘So where should we head for?’

‘Er… let’s try in the trees down there, near the river.’ He gestures the large body of water that spans the length of the train bridge. There must be something down there, even if just a rabbit or a duck. The woods are quieter, the shadows of the late afternoon lengthening. There is still a little golden light from the sun that reaches through the trees, making the grass and low-lying shrubs glimmer as though gold coins are being tossed amongst them.

‘What happened to your husband, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Arthur says. He remembers she talked bitterly about the poisonous berries she found and, as they pass a patch of bright pink oleander sage, he thinks perhaps he’ll also need to teach her which plants are good and which are deadly.

‘A bear got him… it was horrifying.’ Her voice sounds hollow and tired, he wonders when was the last time she slept properly or ate. ‘He survived but only for a couple of days.’

Arthur risks a glance at her, seeing her pale drawn face, the pain in her soft grey eyes. He thinks about reaching out and touching her shoulder, offering some comfort that way. But he quickly pulls his eyes back to the path and the forest floor. Any comfort he could offer would be a poor affair and doubtless she does not want it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says instead.

‘This was really his dream more than mine. I’d have hopped back onto the next train to Chicago if he’d said the word… but now… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain… I have to do this.’ The calm resolution in her voice makes him reconsider his first thoughts, that whatever he could show her would be of little use. That perhaps like many he has met in his travels, grown to both like and love, she would not survive. But maybe she will. Maybe that steely calm resolve will help.

She spots the rabbit before he does. He quickly dispatches it and uses the time, where he bends down to pick it up, to hide the fact that he’s somewhat impressed at her keen eyesight. He only sees it when the rabbit begins to hop about, trying to escape from him. The woman seems to see it when the thing is nestling quietly amongst the bushes. Her voice trembles when she hears the shot.

‘Oh! Oh… Good shot.’

He shuffles the rabbit from hand to hand, busying himself so she does not see how the small amount of praise has affected him. It’s ridiculous, absurd that he should find a hot flush creeping up his cheeks at the kindness of her words. Has he really been so starved of approval from Dutch that any slight, meaningless compliment makes his head spin?

She approaches him cautiously and he passes the rabbit to her. ‘Okay then, go on. Time to get your hands dirty.’

‘How do I… I mean… what do I do?’ she asks apprehensively.

‘Just hold the legs tight, and pull the skin away, quickly. Should come righ’ off.’

She tentatively holds the rabbit up, her face betrays no squeamishness, just nervousness at getting it right. Her right hand carefully grips the fur by the rabbit’s legs. She glances up at him and Arthur wonders if he should show her how to grasp it more firmly. But then she tightens her grip and begins to tug on the fur, till bit by bit she manages to remove the coat.

‘Oh my… it worked!’ she exalts, a rare genuine smile crossing her lips. He finds himself smiling back, a deep sense of pride running through him. He taught her that and she did it. She’s a smart woman. Her cheeks flush pink and she looks away back to the rabbit. Arthur clears his throat nervously.

‘And that is all there is to it. You did good.’

She lets out a soft sigh, almost of satisfaction. ‘I think I’ve seen enough blood for one day. Do you mind if we head back now?’

‘Sure, I’ll walk you back.’ He falls in step beside her, the rabbit slung over her shoulder and he thinks about warning her that the blood will stain her blouse. But he remembers that she has a thick coating of mud all over her clothes, so it’s unlikely that any of them will ever truly be clean again. ‘That should keep you fed for a few days.’

‘Oh yes, at least. Thank you so much.’

Arthur is glad she’s walking ahead of him, though he shakes his head a little and stares down at his boots. Has a death sentence made him a complete fool? A twig snaps under his foot and the woman glances back at him, she offers him a quick smile. The fearful, desperate look in her eyes is gone, she looks comforted.

‘I mean,’ he says, clearing his throat and eager to change the subject. ‘This really ain’t such a bad spot. You got a good water source. It’s remote, but you can survive here alright.’

‘I have no doubt that one can survive here… whether Charlotte Balfour can is a different matter entirely. You’ve probably lived your whole life in the outdoors.’

‘A lot of it, that’s for sure.’ So that’s her name, Charlotte. He repeats her name in his mind, keen not to forget it immediately. Should he offer her his? Would she recognise it with the law and Pinkertons drawing in ever closer? Would she draw back in fear or contempt if she did? It doesn’t feel like he can stomach a rejection right now. He faces so much of it back at camp he probably should be used to it. But is it any better to lie and hide his true self from her? He feels bad when he realises she has been speaking and he hasn’t heard a word, too caught up in his own fears and concerns. For a man who has once insisted he didn’t think much about anything, that is another thing that has changed.

‘…Cal spent his summers growing up at his grandparents’ lodge in Maine, but I get the impression they did more punting than hunting.’

‘Right.’

‘Ever since we got here, it feels like every step forward has come with a hundred steps back. People always talk about the simplicity of country life. But there’s nothing simple about any of this.’

‘I guess we only know what we know…’

‘Oh please, I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long to adjust to a life of privilege and indolence in the big city.’ She smiles lightly.

‘I don’t know about that… it sounds awful.’

‘Oh, it is. A truly empty and boring existence… but an undeniably easy one.’

Arthur thinks about it. The notion of him being a banker or a shop owner sounds ridiculous. He’d be one of those many people he had robbed over the years and it almost tickles him to think on it. Would he be a well to do type? Someone who regularly smoke cigars and drinks brandy in the evenings, with a small wife and a family he’d occasionally see on weekends if the notion took him?

He glances at Charlotte as she climbs the hill, trying to picture what it would be like to be married to a woman like her. A city girl who has soft, delicate hands and has never skinned a rabbit. He almost scoffs aloud at the notion. Then scowls in thought.

Perhaps that was why he and Mary were destined to fail, he can’t imagine himself with a woman who hasn’t had a bit of rough living, who hasn’t skinned a rabbit or gone hunting. How he thought Mary was well suited to him he would never know. He wasn’t good enough for her. Not good enough for a woman who was better off living in cities, who could keep her hands soft and her skin unblemished.

They are approaching the apex of the hill, a simple wooden structure marking the entrance. Ahead two buildings. One looks to be more of a barn or shed, doubtless filled with tools and useful odds and ends. Outside the low wooden structure sits a wheel and a water trough. Arthur wonders if he should suggest Charlotte get herself a horse, but he doesn’t doubt the woman has thought about it already.

Ahead of him sits what could be a pretty cabin. He admires the slate tiling on the roof, providing far more protection than any thatch or wooden panelling could. Around the front door is a small porch, with a bench outside, practically ideal for any person to sit out on warm summer evenings and admire the sunset over the trees. Curling smoke drifts up from the chimney and he is glad that she seems to have enough wood to keep it lit. The path in front of the cabin is lined with stones and either side of the steps that go up to the front door are flowers, the tall blue ones he recognises from around the area of Little Creek River. A pretty place.

Once they reach the doorway, Charlotte pulls the door open slightly and then turns blocking the entrance. He can only see the wooden walls and maybe a chair from where he’s standing.

‘Thank you. That was the first time anyone’s done anything nice for us.’ She sighs at her mistake and raises the rabbit. ‘For me… since we got here.’ The recent loss is evidently still all too recent.

‘Well, nature provides, but she sure don’ always make it easy.’

‘That she doesn’t… I’d invite you in, but I’m dead on my feet, if you’ll forgive the pun.’ She manages another strained noise of amusement. ‘Please do call again some time, though. A good rest and hopefully I’ll be a new woman.’

‘You take care Ma’am.’ She lingers by the entrance and gazes at him for just a moment, then steps back into her house and closes the door. Arthur breathes out a sigh he had been holding and lowers his head. Then he turns on heel and begins to walk down the path. He whistles for his horse.

[free-pancakes]

Don’t Worry, I’m Here

So I ended up writing a part 2 to this

And crossposted both chapters to AO3

sorry for all the recent angst, i blame the recent chapter lol

Summary: Alternate epilogue-like ending if SNK chapter 138 didn’t occur

(italicized portions reference chapter 1!)

Chapter 2

“It’s your turn,” Erwin said with a warm smile. “I’m thinking they all need you right now.”

“Maaaaan, this is a lot of work isn’t it? Why did he ask me to watch over everyone! I thought I’d finally get to take a goddamn break when I got here…”

“Stop joking around, Hange, we all know you’re happy to do it,” Mike said. “And at least he can’t smell you when you cross over—can’t believe you alone could stink up the whole afterlife,” he teased.

Hange playfully shoved Mike into Erwin as they burst into laughter. She smiled big at the both of them. “See you morons later!” she yelled back.

“Hange-san, don’t forget to check on Connie and Niccolo for me! Let me know how good Connie’s pranks have gotten, and if Niccolo has gotten any better at tolerating him,” Sasha added.

“Of course, dear,” Hange said with a smile. She waved back at the three as she opened the door to go see everyone back home.

— She breathed in the cool, summer morning air and walked down a cobblestone path in town, smelling the decadent aroma of bread lingering over the bakery just ahead. She peered through the window, seeing Connie poking holes through bread dough, making something that looked like a little mask for himself, squishing it onto his face. Niccolo turned around the corner holding a box of pastries and threw them straight into the air, croissants showering down from the ceilings. “Connie, stop startling me like this!” he whined as he looked at all the pastries now all over the place, a massacre of flaky crumbs on the floor. The sound of Connie’s laugh was music to Hange’s ears. She took another whiff of the sweet smell and laughed as she watched Connie sadly pick up the croissants while Niccolo lectured him—“They’re doing well, Sasha,” she whispered to herself.

As she continued on her stroll, she saw Onyankopon walking alongisde Pieck. After hurrying over to walk alongside the two, she waved hello at both of them—sometimes she forgot they couldn’t see her whenever she came to visit.

“That’s so sweet, Onyankopon,” Pieck said as he flipped through a small book in his hand. “Oh, it wasn’t just me—without Armin I would have never gotten this all to work out.” Hange’s eyes glimmered with happy tears—she was so proud of her successor. She wanted to see him, but unfortunately it would probably have to wait for her next trip down here.

“I’m sure Hange-san would have loved it, no way we couldn’t publish all her hard work on titan research. Something that generations can learn about—real truth in books for them to read, to understand why they all dedicated their hearts,” he said, balling his other hand into a fist, gently tapping his chest with it, right over his own heart. Hange placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“And what do you have there?” he asked Pieck with a curious look in his eye. “Oh, just another record for Levi,” she said as she ran her hand over the smooth case. "I think he’d like this album.” Hange whispered a small thank you right by Pieck’s ear, happy that she continued to help Levi, and that their little record player was being put to good use.

Onyankopon patted Pieck on the back. “Well, please send the Captain my regards, and let him know that Hange’s texts should be published soon!” Pieck gave him a little smile and waved as she walked towards the forest path. Hange was about to follow her to see the little grump, but she stopped herself, sad to wait a little longer to see him. “Not yet, a few more I have to check on first,” she said to herself as she turned left, heading in the opposite direction from Pieck.

A familiar, warm voice echoed behind her, “Hi Pieck!”

Hange spun around to see Jean and Mikasa walking up from the forest path passing right by Pieck. "Just the people she was looking for!" Hange exclaimed, and smiled warmly watching her favorite little pair walk hand-in-hand.

“Date night I’m assuming?” Pieck asked. Jean blushed, scratched the back of his head, and responded with a nervous chuckle. Mikasa smiled back at him and left a little kiss on his cheek. “Yes we are, Pieck,” she said with a shy smile. “Are you visiting the Captain?”

“Yes, heading that way now. Are the kids with Levi?” Pieck asked excitedly.

“Absolutely, and Historia’s son as well!” Jean said.

Hange couldn’t help but feel overcome with emotion watching the scene. She was so happy to see them all happy, alive, and well. As the group parted ways, Hange followed Jean and Mikasa up a winding path, snaking up the green grassy hills just beyond the edge of the town.

“A graveyard?” Hange asked aloud, both hands instinctively gripping at both sides of her head. “That’s your date night?? Jean, what are you doing?? This is not what I taught you!” She tried grabbing at his shirt to turn them right around. “This isn’t even an Ackerman-related issue, this is just common sense, you idiot!” She ran around them in a frenzy, so distracted that she didn’t even realize who they were actually trying to visit.

“Thanks, Jean. Sorry to ask you for the detour. I know our reservations are—“

Jean quietly pushed a small bouquet of sunflowers into her hands, and stared into her eyes, his expression telling her that he wanted to be here too. Mikasa gave him a quick peck on the cheek and she placed the flowers down onto the grass as they sat down together, knees bent and elbows resting on them. He wrapped his arm around Mikasa as they stared at the headstone, Hange’s name etched neatly into the rock.

“These were her favorite, yknow?”

“I know.”

The wind whistled by their ears, leaving cool kisses on the tops of their heads, bringing them a moment of sweet relief from the heat as the sun began to rise higher into the sky.

“Sometimes, I feel like she never left,” Jean whispered.

Hange sat behind the two of them, arms encasing them in her embrace, and kissed the tops of their heads. She smiled at Jean’s words—“I never did,” she said softly into their ears. She tried to wipe the tears from Mikasa’s eyes with her sleeve. “So don’t be sad.”

Time was almost up, so Hange hurried her way down the path, and stole one last glance at the two. She smiled when she saw Jean lay his head on Mikasa’s shoulder. She couldn’t wait to do the same with the other Ackerman on her mind.

She stared at the little cabin, pangs of heartache clawing at her chest—her one and only regret. But the pain melted away as she heard the sound of children’s laughter escaping through the open window. She walked in to find a little boy and a little girl stumbling around, toddlers still getting used to their legs, their little minds still figuring out how fast they could go before falling over. Her heart melted as she watched the two.

She wondered where Levi was, but he didn’t keep her waiting—he never did. He walked through the doorway of the kitchen into the room where the two kids were running around, holding two mugs of tea. He then walked out onto the front porch and set one of the teas down next to him, steam rising from the cup, drawing Hange towards it with its familiar aroma. Just the way she liked it.

She turned to Levi, looking him up and down, drinking in every bit of his appearance, from every wrinkle in his white, button-up shirt to every strand of hair on his head. She laughed as she counted a few grey hairs peeking through the deep sea of black, and gently ran her hand through this hair. He looked rested, a rare sight for her to see, and nothing could make her happier. She left kisses on his cheek and wrapped her arms around him—she never wanted to let go.

Sunlight wrapped around Levi’s body like a hug, the cool breeze softly ruffled his hair and left cool kisses on his face—sweet relief in the summer heat. “Thanks, Hange,” he thought. He pressed his fingers up to his face, feeling the soft, smooth fabric of her eye patch covering his right eye and smiled.

“You’re welcome, shorty,” she whispered as she held onto him tightly.

As he went back inside, she followed him and sat down right next to him as he pulled out his little journal.

“My notes?”

She stared at Levi, his eyes filled with happiness as he read over every inside joke she scribbled into the margins—she was a little embarrassed about him reading all of that, but overall happy nonetheless.

The two toddlers suddenly jumped up onto his lap breaking him out of his trance. “Uncle Levi, can you please tell us a story??” they chimed together, staring at him with cute little puppy-dog eyes. He nodded.

“Yay!!!” They yelled in unison. They both sat on either side of him on the couch and stared up at him with eager eyes.

Hange sat right next to the three of them, ready to hear Levi’s story—she wondered what he’d come up with. She was ready to laugh at the inevitable constipated look on his face as he tried to conjure up a story for them.

“Once upon a time there were two best friends. They were the strongest heroes everyone knew. They climbed giant walls and looked at the vast lands in front of them from the top of it, knowing it’d all be theirs once they defeated the big, bad titans!”

Hange chuckled at the kids’ excitement.

“They jumped on their necks and cast a spell and they’d disappear!”

“Good call, Levi, I was scared you’d start saying we slashed them up or something,” she said with a small laugh.

They did this for many years until all of them were finally gone. The two best friends were happy and searched for more land to see and explore until they found the big blue ocean. Water that was salty and laid home to many creatures both friendly and dangerous. Now there were more bad guys on the other side of the ocean but they were a little different than titans, and they looked like you and me so it was much harder to defeat them. So the two best friends tried to find a way to win. They went on adventures together trying to figure out their secrets until they almost died trying to do that.”

Levi hesitated.

Hange’s eyes softened at seeing him like this, so she wrapped her arm around him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“And one day one of the best friends asked the other if they wanted to live in the forest together, and leave their younger, smart and powerful comrades to defeat the bad guys.”

He paused once more, and took a deep breath.

“It’s okay, Levi, keep going—the kids are waiting,” she whispered.

“And the other best friend said yes. Their comrades won the battle and the two best friends lived happily ever after in the forest. The end.”

He looked down at the two children, who nuzzled their heads into his lap and were now fast asleep. Jean’s kid snored loudly and drooled over his pants, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “Oh Hange, I wish you could be here too...” Levi said aloud. He felt tears well up behind his eyes but he blinked them away.

“Don’t worry, Levi. I’m here.” Hange tried to wipe away his tears with her sleeve before she began to wipe her own.

His mind went to the last page of his book of Hange’s notes:

“I hope Levi could live a long life and be happy for the rest of his days. Nothing brings me more joy than seeing him experience happiness behind his dumb scowl. And Levi if you come across this someday, remember that I love you and goddammit try to smile or something in front of someone other than me!”

Levi of course memorized these words, and repeated them in his head as he ran his fingers softly through the children’s hair as they slept.

She drank in the bittersweet moment—watching him smile through his pain. He was trying so hard for her, and it made her heart ache. She hoped that he was genuinely trying to find happiness through all of this. But she knew it was nothing he couldn’t handle. She was always watching him, after all.

Hange felt a pull at her shoulders—time was just about up for today. She peppered his face with kisses, hoping that he might feel them.

A gentle breeze blew through the open window, leaving sweet, cool kisses on his face. He swore he could hear her voice, whispering “Love you, Shorty,” in his ear.

“Love you, Shorty,” Hange whispered as she stood up to leave. She visited him every week, but it was still difficult for her to leave each time.

“Stupid four-eyes,” he thought. He breathed in memories of her and promised he’d try to live the rest of his days happily and smiling just as she wished for him.

“Til next time, Levi,” she said softly, as she closed the window behind her.

[sfb123]

Uncle Drake and his Royal Valentine

Turns out I have one more Valentine’s Day fic in me. Instead of romantic Valentine stuff, I’m all about that cute little kid Valentine fluff, which means it’s time for our second installment of...

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: Uncle Drake x Eleanor (uncle/niece/friendship)

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Thomas (who is ever so briefly mentioned), he is my OC.

Rating: G

Warning:

Word Count: 1,679

Tags: Listed below. Let me know if you want to be added/removed.

Drake entered the palace and headed straight for the Great Room. Riley and Liam had a couple of meetings that were going to run late, so he agreed to pick up Eleanor from her lessons and watch her until they got back. He got there to find Thomas, Eleanor’s guard, standing watch at the door.

“Babysitting duty again, Walker?” Thomas extended his hand, shaking Drake’s.

“Yea, you know how it is. She almost done?”

“Should be wrapping up, I’ll go get her for you.” He entered the room, and returned shortly after with Eleanor in tow.

“Uncle Drake!” Eleanor ran straight for him at full speed. He caught her in his arms and lifted her up, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Hey kiddo, how were your lessons?”

“They were good. I learned about manners today. Thank you for asking.” She smiled proudly.

Drake put her back down on the ground and took her hand in his. “Well look at that, already putting it into practice. Your parents are going to be very proud. I was going to hang out with you for a bit, until they’re done with their meetings, would that be ok with you?”

“Yay! Can we color?”

“I think we could make that happen.”

They got back to the Royal quarters, and after getting Eleanor changed and giving her a quick snack, Drake set them up on the coffee table with some paper and crayons.

“Hey, Uncle Drake?” Eleanor put down her crayon and looked up at him thoughtfully.

“Hey Eleanor.” He looked up and smiled.

“Will you be my Valentime?” She looked at him hopefully.

Drake was slightly taken aback by the question. “You want me to be your Valentine?” She grinned and nodded her head. “Why me? I figured you’d ask your dad.”

“No daddy and mommy are valentimes, I need one for me too. Please, Uncle Drake?”

“I would love nothing more, Princess Eleanor.” He reached across the table and lifted her tiny hand to his lips, causing her to giggle.

They continued on with their coloring a little longer, until Riley and Liam entered the room. As soon as she saw them, Eleanor dropped her crayon and ran to them. “Mommy, daddy! I missed you!”

“Aww, we missed you too baby girl. Did you have a good day?” Riley knelt down to her level and gave her a hug.

She nodded her head and smiled. “Uncle Drake is going to be my valentime!”

“He is? That’s wonderful, Princess!” Liam leaned down and hugged his daughter, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Why don’t you go wash up for dinner? We’re going to be eating soon.

“Ok daddy.” She went up to Drake and gave him a hug. “Bye Uncle Drake. Thank you.”

“Anytime kid.” Once Eleanor left the room, Drake turned to his friends. “You know, if you guys wanted time to watch her for Valentine’s Day, you could have just asked. You didn’t need this whole elaborate plot of asking me through the kid.” He chuckled.

“Drake, we didn’t do that. She asked you that completely on her own.” Liam held up his hands, shaking his head.

“Yea, sure.”

“No, really.” Riley interjected. “We weren’t even going to ask you to watch her, we were going to have her go to Ramsford, Maxwell is going to be watching Bartie for Bertrand and Savannah, we were going to set up a slumber party for them.”

Drake's eyes darted between Liam and Riley. “So you mean she asked because…”

“Because she genuinely wants to spend Valentine’s Day with her Uncle Drake.” Liam approached his best friend and clapped him on the back.

“Obviously you don’t have to take her, it’s last minute, we don’t want to mess up your weekend.” Riley said.

“No, really, it’s ok. I’m just kind of surprised, wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m not, she loves you Drake, she’s always telling us stories about your adventures.” Riley said as she walked into the kitchen to get dinner together.

Drake blushed, he loved spending time with Eleanor too. He always made sure to balance out all of her courtly lessons with real kid stuff so that she was able to have the most normal childhood possible. He knew she had fun when they were together, but he always just assumed Maxwell was the favorite uncle, because he was so loud and crazy. That’s the kind of stuff kids were all about, right?

“Drake, would you like to stay and join us for dinner?” Liam asked, taking Drake out of his thoughts.

“No, that’s alright. I’ve got a big date this weekend, I’ve gotta go get ready.” He smiled as he shook Liam’s hand and gave Riley a hug before heading out the door and back to his cabin.

A few days later, Riley was with Eleanor in her room getting her ready for her evening with Drake. She put her in a red dress with matching shoes. Riley had also put together a small overnight bag with the essentials that Eleanor would need until she returned to the palace the next day. They heard the front door open and Riley smiled at her daughter. “I think your Valentine just got here, Eleanor.”

“Yay! Valentime!”

Riley took Eleanor’s hand and they walked out to the living room where Drake and Liam were sitting on the couch talking. Riley cleared her throat to get their attention. They both stood and turned around, smiling wildly at the sight of the Princess and her excitement for the evening.

“Eleanor, you look stunning. Just like your mother.” Liam bowed, looking up just in time to catch the blush in his wife’s cheeks. He winked at her and smiled.

Drake approached the girls and bowed in front of Eleanor. As he rose, he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Princess Eleanor, you look beautiful tonight. Here, these are for you.” He pulled a small bouquet of daisies from behind his back and handed them to her.

“For me?” Eleanor asked excitedly, bringing the flowers to her face and smelling them, just like her mother did every time her father would bring flowers home.

“Of course. It’s the rule, you have to get flowers for your Valentine.”

“Eleanor, what do you say?” Riley placed her hand on Eleanor’s back to get her attention.

“Thank you, Uncle Drake!” She smiled and hugged him.

“Good girl. I’ll take these and get them in some water. They’ll be in your room when you get home tomorrow.” Riley took the flowers from Eleanor. “Don’t you have something for your Uncle Drake?”

Eleanor nodded and walked over to the end table by the couch, picking up a red piece of paper. She walked over to Drake and handed it to him. “Here Uncle Drake, happy Valentime’s Day!”

Drake examined the picture, it appeared to be two people among a bunch of squiggly lines. “This is beautiful Eleanor. Is that me and you?”

“Mhm, we’re playing in the garden at Valoria.”

“That’s Valtoria, Eleanor.” Liam interrupted her.

“Daddy, that’s what I said!” She turned around and gave her father a stern face, causing him to chuckle.

“It’s beautiful Eleanor. Thank you so much. Will you help me find a good place to hang it up when we get to my cabin?”

“Sure!”

“Great! Well, we should be heading out. We have a busy night planned.” Drake and Eleanor said their goodbyes to Riley and Liam. Before they walked out the door, Drake extended his hand to Eleanor. “M’lady.” Eleanor put her hand in his, and they walked out the door together.

Once they arrived at Drake’s cabin, he brought her overnight bag to the guest room, and they found a perfect spot right in the center of the refrigerator to display his new artwork. “Alright kiddo, I’m starving. You want to have dinner?”

“Yes please, what are we having?”

“I was thinking we could make a pizza.”

Eleanor got a confused look on her face. “How do you make pizza, Uncle Drake?”

“Come on into the kitchen and I’ll show you.”

They went into the kitchen and made a pizza. Eleanor loved sprinkling on the cheese and getting to artistically placing the toppings on the saucy disc. They cleaned up the kitchen while they waited for it to cook, and once it was finished, they sat at the kitchen table together and enjoyed the fruits of their labor.

“What now, Uncle Drake?”

“I was thinking about setting up the projector by the fire pit so we could have s’mores and a movie. Does that sound like fun?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What movie?”

He laughed to himself, what movie was she expecting that would cause her to give him the dirty look he’d seen from Riley countless times? “I mean, I was thinking The Little Mermaid, but if you don’t want to watch that, I guess we could pick something else.”

“No! I love Little Mermaid, she’s my favorite!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the yard.

“Whoa whoa, slow down there killer. I’ve gotta get everything and set up. Why don’t you go wait for me by the fire pit. I’ll be right there.”

She nodded and ran to the backyard. Drake gathered everything he needed, and started setting things up in the backyard as Eleanor watched. Drake had her set up the s’mores supplies on the table. Once everything was ready, he lit the fire and started the movie. They sat watching and eating. Eleanor animatedly explained the movie to Drake, and sang along to all of the songs.

As the movie came to a close, Drake looked over to Eleanor and saw her yawning. “Alright, I think it’s bedtime. There’s not much more fun that can be had tonight. Did you have a good Valentine’s Day, Eleanor?”

“Yes Uncle Drake. Thank you. Happy Valentime’s Day.” She said groggily.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, kiddo.” He lifted her out of her seat and walked her to the guest room to get her changed and into bed.

Tags: @txemrn​ @texaskitten30​ @kingliam2019​ @anjanettexcordonia​ @twinkleallnight​ @mile9213​ @kittypryde-bipride​ @motorcitymademadame​ @kat-tia801​ @bebepac​ @gkittylove99​ @khoicesbyk​ @jessiembruno​ @queenrileyrose​ @athena-penrose​ @pixie88​ @eadanga​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @annarenee355​ @burnsoslow​ @shewillreadyou​ @imturaxamara​ @gabesmommie1130​​ @cordoniaqueensworld​​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​

[naruto-scenarios-plus-akatsuki]

I'd like a scenario of Ino and Shika mourning the death of their dads and their uncles. It's not explored at all in the series, but I find it hard to believe that they weren't close. I wish Inoichi could have said something to Shikamaru, even if it was really short due to the time: "I'd have liked to see you grow even more. Work hard, Shikamaru". And Shikaku telling Ino something like "you've always been like a daughter to me. Make us proud'. Inoshikacho is the best family in Konoha.

Thank you for the request. I never lost a father or mother so I may not know the complete feeling but I have loss someone dear to me.  With those feelings, I hoped I conveyed the sense of mourning and loss one truly feels when anyone close to them passes away. 

“For the Lord Himself will descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words.” 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 NKJV

Loss and Remembering

The war was won. The enemy was defeated. Naruto was safe and Sasuke had returned. You would think all was well with the world. That good had won the day. Yet with any war there was always a cost.  With anything left good to fight for there was a price.

Ino struggled with that price. Her and many of her comrades had suffered a loss during the war. There was an emptiness to her heart that she hadn’t felt before. A bare hole that was expanding with each passing day as the reconstruction of Konoha went on.

The memorial service for the fallen had already taken place and she had shed most of her tears at the event. Home was bittersweet without her dad. Every article and room had a memory of him in it that she could not erase. She had been a wreak the moment she stepped through the door of her house the first night she returned from the Land of Lightning.

The adrenaline and self-preservation no longer distracted her from the reality that her father had passed away. Her mother had already heard the news luckily before her arrival and embraced her only living child fully as soon as she returned. They both cried together, falling to the floor in their grief.

Death was common in the life of a shinobi, but although it is expected, the pain is still very real and affects the lives of those touched by the individual’s sacrifice. Both Ino and her mom knew what kind of man Inoichi was and how he would give his life for his village and comrades to keep them safe. He paid the ultimate price and although there was honor in his death, both of them were really hurt.

After the memorial and funeral service held for those fallen from the 4th Great Ninja War, Ino realized she wasn’t the only one hurting. The village had lost over a hundred lives. Her friends were all hurting. They had lost someone their own age, Neji, who died saving Hinata. Her teammate, Shikamaru, lost his own father. The pain evident on his face while Choji sympathized and cried too, feeling the lost of both of them.

She thought she had cried all that she had that day. The week building up to the funeral was nothing but tears and staying at home. When the day passed and the memory of the fallen forgotten, others were ready to pick up their lives where they left off. The second to the Yamanaka clan had took over as leader while the elders discuss what was next for the clan. They had expectations for her, and she soon had little time to feel anymore as she was filled with busy work.

They were prepping her to become the next leader. The added pressure weighing on her heart and shoulders, making her wonder if she was capable of it. She hadn’t seen her teammates since the funeral, but to be honest, she was currently lost in her own little world. A bubble filled with to-dos and things she had to learn.

Her elders and clan gave her many praises for her accomplishments in the war, but she would not take hold of the clan until she was of proper age. There were still many things for her to learn. They had told her that although war can advance someone’s maturity, they wanted to be sure she was ready.

Ino felt anything but ready. She hadn’t expected to come back from the war to take over her dad’s position. She thought he would still be here with her. She thought she had many more years left with him. With him teaching her, guiding her, loving her, but he was gone and now she wanted nothing more than her father’s warm embrace and kind smile, telling her how much he was proud of her.

Her mind winced at the thought. She thought she was okay but today was one of those days. She stopped in the middle of the street. The sun was beating down and sky was cloudless. There was hardly a breeze and civilians bustled around her going about their daily lives. So much has changed and yet life keeps on going. Her eyes were watching as the architects and stone cravers were working on the latest project of Kakashi’s face on the Hokage mountain.

She was staring at the piece for a while, lost in her own thoughts. A sense of discontent filling her being. She didn’t want to cry. She thought she was done crying. After the memorial service, she told herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore. She had her mom to be brave for and a clan to lead.

“Ino?”

She was driven out of her thoughts and looked away from the mountain top to see Choji in front of her.

“You okay?” He asked concerned.

“Yea,” she replied quickly, glad to have snapped out of it. She smiled out of habit.

“Are you sure?” he asked, not convinced. He was typically sensitive to other people’s emotions, especially his teammates that he has known since childhood.

“Yup, I had a few errands to run this morning and finally got a break for myself.” She gave a fake laugh.

Choji nodded. “How’s your mom doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by, but everything been so busy.”

“You’re telling me. Between clan duties, training, and the flower shop, I’m typically spent. My mom has been doing fine. She’s been tending to the Yamanaka gardens mostly. Spring just popped up, so we been replenishing our stock…” Ino trailed off.

Choji understood. The Yamanaka clan had supplied most of theflowers for the funeral service free of charge for those who were loss. The biggest bouquets going to Inoichi and Shikaku. Choji had a grim smile on his face.

“That’s great to hear.”

Ino nodded, smiling painfully. Her thoughts having led back to her dad. “Yup. Well I’ll catch you later Choji.” She said ready to make her exit and move pass him.

“Wait Ino.”

She stopped to listen.

“If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me. I miss your dad too, not as much as you probably do, and I know its probably not the same way I’m feeling. If anyone knows what your going through it would be Shikamaru,” he said gently.

Ino’s soft smile was more genuine this time. “Thanks Choji.” she said before she continuing on.

Her mind now was overwhelmed and swirling. She guessed she wasn’t doing as great as she thought she was if Choji could tell something was wrong. She sighed. She also felt like a terrible friend. She hadn’t checked up on Shikamaru. The loss of his dad was probably hurting him just as much and Ino knew Choji would be right that Shikamaru could relate to how she was feeling,but he seemed to be doing just fine.

She wondered how he was able to manage it. The grief, the pain, and the numbness from it. She made her way to the Hokage tower slowly, hoping to find her teammate.

Shikamaru was easy enough to find after asking the receptionist. He had his own personal office now and when she entered it, he was reading through a scroll. He looked up surprised to see her and greeted her. She felt awkward as she greeted him back.

He discerned her quickly, knowing something was on her mind.“What brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing just wanted to see how you are doing. I haven’t seen you in a while. I wanted to check in,” she expressed as if carefree.

Shikamaru leaned back in his chair and yawned. “Well I could use a break. Want to join me?”

She nodded and they both made their way out of his office and to the roof of the Hokage tower. They both found a seat on a bench up there and Shikamaru leaned back to stare at the clouds.

“So how are you holding up?” he asked bluntly.

“Is it that obvious?” She questioned insecure.

“No, but I know.” Shikamaru reasoned.

“I feel like I’m just supposed to magically move on from it but I don’t know how everything just keeps…”

“Reminding you of them?” Shikamaru finished.

“Yes,” Ino breathed. “It hurts. It really does. It feels like I lost…” She was lacking words how she was trying to express how she feels.

“I know,” Shikamaru nodded, his face solemn.

“How are you holding up so well?” Ino questioned in desperation.

“I’m not.” Shikamaru admitted. “I think of my father quite often. He showed me how to be a man. How to love. How to fight. How to be smart. I also think of Asuma often. He had depended on me, he was proud of me, he built me up, and never gave up on me.” He took out Asuma’s lighter, opening and closing it. “I miss them both greatly.” He said after a minute.

There was a silence.

“I miss your father as well.”

Ino sniffled trying to hold back tears but started to cry silently anyway.

“Inoichi was kind enough to relay a message from my father and I’m grateful for him to do so, to give me my father’s last words, but also, he too, gave me a message.”

Ino’s ears perked up and she stopped crying to listen more closely. “My dad left you a message too?”

“Yes, just briefly after my father’s words since there wasn’t much time. But your dad told me that he never had a son, but Choji and I were like sons to him. And he was proud of the men he knew we would become. He also asked for me to keep an eye on you.”

Ino smiled softly at that and thought about all Shikamaru had gone through. She thought of his dad, Shikaku. He was a brilliant man as well and she knew how much Shikamaru had admired and loved his dad.

“Your father gave me some advice once,” Ino recalled, and cleared her throat.

Shikamaru turned his head to listen now and stopped fidgeting with the lighter.

“It was when we were little and having a play date while the clan heads got together. You and Choji were being boys throwing rocks and climbing trees. I felt out of place and was mad about something and was sulking on the porch. The grownups went in to talk but before your dad went inside, he kneeled down next to me, seeing as I was staring at you two boys. He told me not to let my anger and sadness keep me from enjoying life and the people in my life.” Ino then giggled. “Of course, I was only six and couldn’t understand what he meant as of yet, but I think now his words ring a little clearer. I feel like the loss of them: Asuma, Shikaku, Neji and my dad will never go away.”

“Yet the pain shouldn’t keep us from living. Although the pain is very real, it is temporary. They will never be taken from our hearts or our memory. We’ll live a life they can be proud of and perhaps one day, we’ll see them again.”

That hope uplifted Ino’s spirits. “Yea, I suppose your right.”

Both of them fell into silence for a few moments, remembering the ones they lost. They spent a good while up on the rooftop, sharing more feelings and memories and coming to peace in the wake of the loss although the pain was definitely there. They had each other to comfort themselves and with that only time would heal.

[lordabovehelpme]

Save the Day- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: For your DFWL series (which is the best series? I?) May I request for reeza and the twins somehow accidently break a vase or something, and Myles has to be a big brother and attempt to like fix it and try to make sure the parents dont find out cause they went out for a bit? Or just hcs of Myles being a good big bro because i think it would be the cutest! - anon

A/n: Hello lovely! I am so happy to hear that you have been enjoying DFWL so far! I know I have been having a blast writing it! This is such a good idea, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!!! Love ya! 

This is the next chapter of my Days filled with Love series. You can find the first chapter here! :) 

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“Okay Ready?” Reeza asks as she grabs the back of Isabets little legs.

“REE VAH!” A pat is given to Reeza’s head and she laughs.

“Alright, hold on!” She leans forward a little and starts to kick her foot, just as Paz had told them bulls do. “MMmmmmmmmm.” She takes off and sprints around the meadow.

Both girls giggle and scream as they feel like they are flying. Tobbi laughs from where he sits with Grogu, crayons and markers all over the porch. Myles happily draws pictures with his fellow brothers.

The five of them were supposed to be being watched by Paz. However, the giant warrior had ultimately fallen asleep on the couch. Who could blame him? Five energetic kids is a lot to watch.

You and Din are out on a date, one eagerly prompted by their uncle. “You guys never get out anymore. Go have fun! I’ll watch the kids. And maybe you can come back with the news of another!”

You had blushed and complained that your family was already big enough. But the two mandalorians, in their mandalorian way, giggled back and forth. They assured you that in their culture, a family never stops growing. However they both laughed when you sighed, “My back already hurts.”

So here the kids are, having already worn their uncle out and still lots of energy to keep them up.

“MYLES!” Reeza rushes back to her brothers with Isabet still on her back.

“What?” He looks up from his very detailed landscape he was currently drawing.

“BEES!”

“What do you- BEES!” Flying behind the two girls is a swarm of insects, instantly recognized from the bright yellow and buzz of their wings. Myles, ever the quick thinker, yells out, “GO TO THE LAKE! THEY CAN’T GET YOU IN WATER!”

Reeza runs as fast as her legs will carry her. “Okay Issy, time to learn how to swim!” She gets about hip deep before taking her sister into her arms. Making sure both their heads stay above the water she gets as deep as she can into the lake.

A loud battle cry comes from Myles as he runs to the shore where the bees have stopped. In his hand he pulls the hose and aims it towards the swarm. Holding it like a blaster, just the way his father taught him, he places his finger over the nozzle. The spray of water becomes harsh and unforgiving.

“HAH TAKE THAT! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU MESS WITH THE DJARINS!”

“WAIT WHAT ABOUT TOBBI AND GROGU?” Reeza calls out from the safety of the lake.

“CRAP!” Myles instantly drops the hose and runs back to the house, on a mission to keep his brothers safe. Rushing up to the porch he scoops his brothers into his arms and does a 180, sprinting towards the lake. Tobbi squeals in delight and his little legs kick as Myles enters the water.

The five of them wait for about seven minutes before starting to bicker about who will walk out first.

“Myles, you're the oldest, you go first.”

“But I’m holding Grogu and Tobbi, and I can hold Isabet, you can’t hold all three of them. We are the older siblings so we have to keep them safe.”

Reeza huffs before realizing her brother is correct. “Fine, but if I die it’s your fault.” She hands Isabet to Myles before slowly wadding towards the shore. It’s a humorous sight. Myles, waist deep in the water with his three squirming siblings in his arms.

All four children watch as their sister walks onto the shore and cautiously looks around. She does a full 360, checking for the insects.

“Okay, it’s alright.”

***

Now in clean dry clothes the children decided that maybe it is safer to stay inside.

Paz is still passed out on the couch, and the kids, trying to be as respectful as they can, decided that the living room is off limits.

They are currently in the kitchen, on a mission for snacks. Raiding cabinet after cabinet they eventually find the items that appeal to them most.

“Let’s eat the grapes in the fridge too, Mom always says we have to eat as many fruits as we do crackers.”

Happy with this, Reeza sits down at the table after strapping her siblings into their chairs.

Myles opens the fridge and grabs the bowl of fruit you had cut up this morning as well as some peanut butter. Reeza opens the packet of crackers and places them in a design on a plate.

“We shall dine like Kings and Queens!” She announces while tucking her napkin into her shirt. Myles laughs while sitting down at his own seat.

Grogu, noticing the lack of parents, smiles before holding his hand out. A single grape rises from the bowl. Tobbi giggles while he holds a cracker in his fist.

Reeza drops down from her seat and rushes over to the side of the room. “Grogu, let’s play a game. You throw the fruit around and I’ll try to catch it with my mouth!”

Grogu claps his hands in agreement. Instantly the grap flies through the air towards Reeza. She leans towards the right and effectively catches it in her mouth. All five kids erupt in laughter. Well, except Isabet, she just sits with a scowl on her face, but you all have come to realize it is just her natural face.

This game goes on until the bowl is almost empty. Grogu has Reeza doing rolls and jumps to try and get the food. However, on the last piece of fruit Grogu throws it towards her left. She rolls and goes to stand up, but…

BAM!

It almost happens in slow motion. She had run into the tall table you have near the window. Some of your trusted house plants rest there as it is one of the places that the house gets the most sun. The vase with a bouquet of wildflowers the kids had picked you wobbles. It shakes and then tilts off of the table.

They all watch in horror as the vase crashes to the floor. Thankfully it landed on the mat by the door so it only broke into about six pieces, but water goes everywhere.

Reeza turns to her brother, head tucked into her shoulders and tears welling at her eyes. Myles runs about four different scenarios through his head in the span of a couple seconds, weighing each option against one another.

After only five seconds he has a plan. Rushing over to his sister he hugs her. “It’s okay.”  

“Mom is going to be so mad!” Tears start to fall on her cheeks.

“No no it’ll be fine. We’ll fix it. But I’m going to need your help, alright?” He looks at her. She wipes away her tears and nods. “Okay I need you to go grab some towels.” She nods again and rushes off towards the laundry room.

Myles turns to where his three siblings sit at the table, all their eyes wide. “You guys stay put, we don’t want glass to get into your feet.”

When none of them go to move he turns towards the oven. Grabbing a stove mit he starts to pick up pieces of the vase. Separating the glass and the flowers, he’s happy when he has two piles.

Reeza bounds down the stairs, quieter than usual as she doesn’t want to wake their uncle. In her hands are two towels.

“Okay, I think I got all the glass up but be careful. Go ahead and put the first towel on the ground and try to soak up as much as you can.” Following his command she does exactly as told. “I am going to go get some glue, don’t let them leave the table.”

Running as fast as he can, he rushes to where his father has supplies to fix about anything. Opening drawer after drawer he finally finds some super glue. “Perfect!”

Making a mental note of where he found the glue he goes back to the kitchen. Analysing the broken pieces he can see where the pieces fit together. Being extra careful, he applies glue to one piece and then another, and presses them together.

“Reeza how is the water going?”

“Towel one is soaked but all the water is up.”

“Great, can you please go quickly throw those in the hamper and put the clean towel back where you found it.”

She nods, her face as serious as he’s ever seen it.

“Okay Grogu, I need your help.” At the sound of his name, he looks up at his brother. “Can you hold these pieces together?” As if it were magic, the pieces are pressed against one another and held in place. Grogu coos, overjoyed that his older brother needs him.

“Perfect! Now I am going to start to glue and add more pieces, so can you do more than one at a time?”

Grogu coos once again and his little eyebrows furrow in concentration. When Myles adds another piece, he effectively holds it right in place. “Alright! There we go!”

Reeza sits down next to her brother, however her usual bright cheery smile is replaced by a frown. “Do you think Mommy is going to be mad?”

Picking his words carefully, Myles turns to look at her. “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll tell them. They won’t be mad at you.”

***

The vase is officially glued back together and it seems to be holding water. The glue is back where Myles found it and the flowers are back in the vase.

“Parents alert!” Reeza informs from where she was sitting at the window. In the distance she can see the Crest flying towards the house.

“Okay time for the clean protocol!”

They move faster than they ever have before. They pick up the crayons and markers from outside, put away the dishes from the kitchen, and settle in on the couch with their uncle. The house looks just as you had left it, no evidence of their eventful day.

Just as they practiced, as soon as the door is unlocked, they all close their eyes and pretend to be asleep. Even the twins know the routine by now.

“Oh babe, look how cute!” They can hear your hushed voice as you talk to their dad.

“Uh hum. You could hear Paz’s snore from the next planet over.”

A soft slap echos through the living room. “Don’t be mean, he gave up his day so we could go out. Be nice.”

They listen as your footsteps get closer and you pick the twins up. Still playing the part, they keep their eyes closed.

“Paz?” Your hushed voice tries to wake him.

The giant warrior stirs before finally waking. “Hmm what?”

“Glad to see you’re awake. We’re back.”

“I can see that.”

You giggle. “How were the kids?”

His arms lift as he looks around and counts heads. “They were great!”

“That’s good. Are you going to stay the night? I know it’s late and I’d hate to kick you out.”

“It’s late?” He mumbles to himself. “Oh umm no, I need to get back but if you need me to stay I can.”

“Oh no it’s alright. Thank you again for watching them.”

“Yeah no problem. You know how much I love them.”

Din has already taken the twins and Grogu up to their room and put them down. He walks back down just as Paz rises from the couch. They give one another a hug and a firm pat on the back. “Thanks man.”

“For sure.” Paz looks back at you before turning towards his brother. “When are you two having the next one?”

Din chuckles. “You try and ask her. Last time I did I had to carry a twenty pound weight around for a week. That shit’s not fun.”

Paz lets out a loud laugh but immediately stops after you scowl at him and point to the kids. “Sorry.”

After the three of you talk for a few more minutes, Paz makes his way out of the door. You sit down on the couch between Reeza and Myles. Reeza shuffles a little and settles down onto your lap. You smile and start to softly brush her hair.

Myles opens his eyes, as if he just woke up. “Hi Mom.”

“Hi baby.” Your arm wraps around his shoulder and pulls him close to you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How was your day?”

“It was good… uneventful.” It takes everything in Reeza to stop herself from snickering.

“Oh, that’s good.” Din sits down on the other side of Myles and places his arm on the back of the couch, keeping all three of you within his hold.

“How was your date?”

“It was good, although I missed you guys.” You press another kiss to Myles cheek and he giggles.

“Your mother has separation anxiety.”

Myles laughs while you glare at your husband. “Of course I do! You guys are my babies.” Looking down at Reeza, you scratch her back and you feel a shiver run down her spine.

“Time to go to bed.” Your husband huffs as he stands up, taking Reeza into his arms he beckons Myles to follow him. “Say goodnight to your mother.”

“Goodnight mom.” Myles wraps his arms around your neck and presses a kiss to your cheek. You smile and hold him close.

“Goodnight my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

You turn the faucet and warm water starts to run. Hands grip at your hips and kisses are placed against the back of your neck. He pulls the zipper down on the back of your dress. Every inch of skin that is revealed to him he sucks and nips at it.

“You looked so good in this dress.”

Turning around in his arms, you press a kiss to his lips. “Mm thank you.”

He growls as you bite his bottom lip.

“Reeza was awake, wasn’t she?”

“Definitely.”

You giggle and slip from his hold. “They’re so funny. I hope they were alright today.”

He sighs as he realizes he’s not getting as lucky as he originally thought. “Cyare, you worry too much. They said they had a great day.”

You slip into the bubbly water and lean forward, silently asking him to slide in behind you. “I can’t help it.”

He kicks off his pants and sits behind you, pulling you into his chest. You rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes.

The two of you just stay against each other in the comfort of warm water for a second.

“Cyare?”

“Mmm?”

His hand moves over your stomach. “Are you sure you don’t want another one?”

You sigh. “Din, babe, the twins aren’t even one yet.”

“Soooo?”

You laugh, “You’re insatiable. You can ask again in a year. I need a break for right now.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I just love you so much.” You turn your head so he can press a kiss to your lips. “And our family.”

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Next Part: Rainy Day

I hope you all liked it! 

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Love, Lordy :) 

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