#please read the tags for trigger warnings!

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙄𝙫𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (Happy ending of course)

Warnings: Abusive father! Violence, Blood, Alcohol, Sick mother, Lots of cursing. Father is a real piece of shit and puts hands on reader multiple times. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags.

Just for another warning because I think it’s important. This has content that could trigger some people. Please please read the warnings. If any of them make you uncomfortable please don’t read. Also a reminder. You’re not alone. No one ever should be laying their hands on you. I love you. You’re loved. You don’t ever deserve anything like this.

Find The Request Here

-🖤

Changbin wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. He kissed your neck tenderly nuzzling himself into your neck. You both were snuggled up on the couch watching a show. “My angel” he said softly before softly kissing your neck once more. When you were with him it felt like nothing else mattered like the world was alright. Your moment of happiness was short lived though seeing your phone buzzing. It was your father. Just seeing his name flash on your phone made you anxious.

After your mother had passed away your dad became an even bigger monster. He was always a good for nothing, But now not working as much as he did he stayed home drinking. Your mother had told you before the only reason she had stayed with him was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family was from another country, she didn’t have much money or friends. She was such a brave woman though. You don’t know how she dealt with him so long but I guess him never really being home helped. He had gotten fired from his big job because of his drinking and anger problems. Going to work one day hungover and punching a coworker so hard it broke his nose. He had to pay a hefty fine for that. Now he has a slow job where he only works a few days.

One of your earliest memories of him being his asshole self was him telling you how he hated that you were a girl. He hated that in his words ‘that useless bitch couldn’t even give me a boy.’ He wanted a son so badly and he made sure you knew that. He never really bonded with you however he’d be damned if you didn’t respect his authority. The first time he ever laid hands on you, you were 9. You accidentally knocked over a table braking the lamp that was placed on it. He grabbed you by the wrist smacking you across the face. ‘You stupid fucking brat! Look what you did, you’re just like your fucking mother!’ He spat pushing you away from him.

After that day it just kept going. Having to wear long sleeves at school to hide the bruises. At one point you had to stay home for almost a week. You had stepped in front of him to protect your mom when he hit you square in the face busting your lip. It stayed swollen and bruised for a while. Tooth slightly cracked from the incident.

You wanted so badly to tell someone. Confide in a teacher anything. You were scared to though. Scared they’d blame your mom, put her in jail and take you away. So you endured it. As your mom started to get sick he turned more of his attacks on you. Although a complete peace of shit he wasn’t stupid. He knew if he did anything to her the doctors would see it.

After she had passed you kept yourself from the house as best as you could. Not going home as much as you possibly could. You got a job at a cafe down the road and that’s how you met changbin. He was a regular who once you started talking admitted to only coming so much to see you.

You kept your home life a secret to him as much as you could but one day you were getting intimate you forgot about the bruises. When he had lifted your shirt his smile dropped. He looked at you with wide eyes “what the fuck? Who did this to you?” He said clenching his jaw. All you could do was sob he held you in his arms rubbing your back. “I’m sorry for raising my voice I just- y/n please- what happened?” He asked.

Through your sobs you told him, you unloaded everything in a word vomit of sadness. He would and wanted to go find your father. To beat him senseless, to show him how it feels but he knew you needed him more. He held you so tightly, feeling his own heart breaking from your words. Knowing a family member could do this to someone they were supposed to protect. To love and cherish just broke him. He was such a family oriented person and now he realized why you never wanted him to meet him. Never talked about him. He asked why you couldn’t just leave explaining to him how your mother wasn’t from here, how you had no family and no one else to rely on.

“Shit- it’s my dad” you said frantically picking the phone up.

“Where the fuck are you? He spat.

“I’m- I’m just at a friend’s house” you stuttered.

He laughed “sure, you’re probably slutting around. Get your fucking ass home.”

He hung up leaving you shaking. “I gotta go.” You said picking your keys up.

“Y/n you don’t have to” Changbin said with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You said before heading to the door.

Your brain wondered what was going on. Why he needed you home. As you pulled up coming through the door you saw him slumped in his usual chair. “About fucking time” he hissed. “Do something useful and go get me some more beer” he demanded.

You stood there almost dumb founded. Before he hissed again “don’t make me say it again!”

You nodded heading down to the store and getting it for him. When you got home again you sat the beer beside him. He gave you a smirk “glad you know how to listen” he chuckled. Your nose twitched at his smell, you hated being close to him. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and B.O. always radiated off of him. He motioned for you to leave and you did slinking back to your room to text changbin.

Him: Y/n! Text me back! I’m worried!

You: I’m fine. He just wanted beer

Him: I swear I’ll end him one of these days

You: I’m gonna go to bed ok? I’ll see you in the morning! Love you!

Him: Love you to beautiful. Text me when you wake up🖤

You fell asleep shortly after always finding peace in sleep. The next few days were the same old. Going to Changbins after work going home late when you knew he’d be passed out. Today though. You had to run home for your wallet. When you walked through the door your dad was in the kitchen. You took one look around and realized something had to have happened. Things were thrown around. Smashed. Your body froze before you could go to walk back out he saw you.

“Where do you think you’re fucking going!” He yelled. He made a bee line toward you.

“I’m- I’m picking up another shift at work I just came home to grab something.” You lied.

“Bull fucking shit!” He spat.

He grabbed you by your throat lifting you up against the wall. His eyes were dark, knuckles bloody from punching the wall. “I get fucking fired from my god damn job only to come home to see you running back out? For what huh? To go fucking whore around some more?” He said. “No! There’s gonna be some fucking changes!” He screamed.

He dropped you to the floor before grabbing you by your wrist dragging you to the kitchen. “You’re gonna get another fucking job, you’re gonna start paying the other bills!” He spat. “You got it!”

When you didn’t answer right away he slapped more like punched you across the face. “Answer me bitch!” He said gritting his teeth. All you could do was nod scared for your life. You felt a warmth running down, your nose was bleeding.

“You’re fucking pathetic you know that, just like your fucking mother! That bitch. That bitch fucking deserved what she got! I’m glad she’s fucking dead!” He spat. Something had come over you at that point. You shoved back making him stumble backwards. You made a dash to the door luckily in his drunken stupor he stumbled getting back up. You ran. Not even bothering getting in your car afraid it take to long.

So you ran. You ran as fast as you could until you couldn’t anymore. You hid yourself in the bushes at the park panting. Trying to catch your breath as you fumbled to call changbin. “Hey angel” he said happily but when he heard you breathing heavy his heart sank. “Y/n what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m- I’m at the- park down- down the road- please” you stuttered out.

“Stay there I’m just down the road!” He said before grabbing his keys speeding to you.

He gripped the steering wheel afraid for what had happened. “Angel? I’m here!” He yelled out.

You peaked your head out, when he got a good look at you anger filled his body. ‘That mother fucker’ he snarled. There was no time to be angry right now though. You needed him. So desperately needed him.

He sat beside you pulling you into his arms. He took his jacket placing it around you as he whipped away the blood from your nose. He noticed the handprint mark around your neck, he gritted his teeth seething. You sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back “ssh sh it’s ok angel, I’m here, I got you.” He said.

He rocked you back and forth letting your sobs subside before asking you anything. “Does it hurt?” He asked lifting your face to him looking over your nose and neck. You nodded. It hurt to swallow, hurt to breathe, everything just hurt. “Can I take you to the hospital?” He asked. You were hesitant but you nodded.

The car ride there all he could do was watch over you. Scared something could seriously be wrong. Cursing at himself for not being there. He was in the process of finding a new place. A new place so you could move in with him. The only reason you didn’t live with him now was for the fact he had other roommates and if the tenant found out about you they all could be evicted. He was gonna surprise you today with the good news, that he found a place. Close to his work and close to a bakery you had wanted to work at.

When he had gotten to the hospital they all looked at him like he had done it. They checked you over asked him a million questions. The cops being called from below to ask him questions. They weren’t completely shocked when they heard your dad’s name. He was notorious for his anger outbursts and violence. He had a list of charges that had gotten one being the man he punched at his old job. They wrote everything down, took pictures of your bruises and wounds. Asking you lots of questions before leaving.

“Y/n did you know you had a broken rib at one point?” A nurse asking you.

You shook your head.

“Looks like it happened a while ago, it fused back but not properly. You ever have sharp pains?” She asked.

“Yeah, she use to complain about side pains but they kinda just stopped.” Changbin chimed in.

“How is she right now?” Changbin asked.

“Nothings broken however you’re lucky, the pressure he had around your throat bruised your vocal cords. Any harder you could be looking at serious damage”

The nurse had left to grab some papers changbin took your hand into his. He kissed your cheek softly rubbing his thumb over yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there” he said softly.

You shook your head “I don’t want him hurting you either” you said looking up at him.

“I’m proud of you though, pushing back and getting yourself out of there. Your mom would be proud” he said with a small smile. His words made you smile a bit. “She definitely would.”

“I had some news to tell you” he said hoping this would make you smile.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m moving. Well we’re moving” he said with a smile. When you looked at him a bit confused his smile grew “I got a place for the two of us. Wish it could have happened sooner but-“ he said.

You wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly “we’re gonna live together? I’ll get to spend all the time with you?” You said eagerly.

“Yep! Got the keys today!”

When the door opened you thought it was the nurse however it was an officer. “Y/n we have your father in custody. Do you have a place to stay for the mean time?” He asked looking over at your boyfriend.

“I do, but can I go back and get something’s you asked.

The officer nodded “I’ll have to escort you because it’s a crime scene now.”

You nodded.

“Whenever you get discharged we can go alright?” He said before walking out.

After you went to the house grabbing your clothes, laptop and a few things you smiled saying good riddance to this place. You had the few things from your mom packed, having nothing more in this house for you.

Moving in with changbin was something to get use to. However he helped you every step of the way. You got into much needed therapy and after your father’s sentence you felt like things were going up. As a little house warming gift Changbin had surprised you with a cat. You had bonded with him with the many times he had taken you to the cat cafe. You always said how much you wanted him and now you had him. You had your little family now.

Changbin showered you in love as usual, never missing a chance to compliment you, praise you and tell you how much he loved you. You knew in your heart your mom wherever she was, she was happy. Happy seeing her little girl finally get out of the situation. To live her life to the fullest.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | epilogue pt. 2

word count: 10k | reading time: 40mins. aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨

Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the events that took place in epilogue part 1. Established relationship, dad!noah, angst, fluff, pregnancy, birth giving (flashback), mentions/descriptions of blood, sexual innuendos regarding bondage/rope play, skinny dipping, sexual content including oral sex (fem. rec.), p. in v. unprotected, creampie). Fluff, fluff, and a lot of fluff because dad!noah dad!noah dad!noah 🥹 can't get enough of him. I've wanted to write dad!noah for ages and he's finally here. And again, I've never given birth, i've never been pregnant, so excuse my lack of accuracy on that matter. If there's anything I've missed, please let me know. x

Nearly two years later

Winter had lingered longer than usual, but at last, spring had arrived, bringing with it a burst of color and warmth. The sun was gentle, neither too hot nor too faint, while a soft breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.

As soon as the weather brightened, Noah and I began spending more time outdoors—whether it was venturing deep into the valley, lounging by the river’s edge, or simply relaxing in our garden.

This morning, I sat on a blanket spread across the grass in the front yard, with Trouble resting behind me. Her large, furry body made for a perfect backrest as I watched Levi carefully pick flowers and place them all over Trouble’s fur. At first, Trouble lay still, tolerating Levi’s enthusiastic flower-decorating, but as the pile of blooms grew, she huffed in mild protest. Once, she even let out a low growl, and I gently reminded her that he was just a baby, before telling Levi to give her a little break.

“But she looks so pretty!” he insisted, his version of “pretty” sounding more like “piuti”.

“She’s already got enough flowers on her,” I said. “Why don’t you put some on Mommy instead?”

“Yes!” he shouted, delighted by the idea. He wobbled over to me on unsteady legs, and began placing the flowers carefully on my hair. 

His shoulder-length brown hair, which we had only trimmed a couple of times since he was born, had been neatly tied up in a bun earlier that morning. But after hours of running and playing a few soft strands had escaped and now hung loosely, framing his sun-kissed face. He looked so much like Noah.

When one of the flowers fell into my lap, I picked it up and held it out to him. 

“Do you know what this one is called?”

He took a quick glance and shook his head before resuming his task of adorning my hair.

“It’s a daisy,” I told him.

“Daisy,” he repeated slowly. 

I reached for the basket sitting nearby, filled with a mix of toys and snacks. Levi’s attention was quickly diverted when I picked a box that contained fresh strawberries cut into tiny pieces. Their sweet fragance filled the air when I removed the lid. I picked one out and held it out to him.

“Strawberry?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Strawberry,” I confirmed, smiling. I brought the fruit to his mouth, and he took a small, eager bite, juice dribbling down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb. “One more?” I offered, holding up another.

He nodded, this time more vigorously as he leaned in for a second bite, his tiny hands grabbing at mine to get the strawberry faster into his mouth.

With a full mouth, he mumbled something incoherent, his eyes darting to the basket, no doubt looking for more treats. I reached inside and handed him one of his toys. He eagerly accepted a wooden cart and started to roll it back and forth over my legs. At least that was better than him rolling it on Trouble’s fur and igniting her fury. 

I spotted movement on the path leading from the village. A tall and slender figure made itself visible as it approached us, and that familiar flutter in my stomach came back. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of my husband. 

Noah was walking toward us. He looked so effortlessly striking wearing all black, his katana at his side and a radiant smile meant just for us. His hair, tied back in a loose bun, was longer than it’d ever been, and one loose strand was swaying gently with the breeze. 

He wasn’t alone.

Nestled against his hip was Sakura, one of her small hands on his shoulder, grapping tightly at his clothing. Though she was Levi’s twin and nearly two, she couldn’t yet walk, but that didn’t slow her down—she was happy to crawl everywhere. Her brown hair was tied up in a tiny bun to match her Papa’s, and it gave her an air of determination and pride. She loved mimicking him in everything. She was a courageous and bold little one, just like Levi.

“Look who’s coming,” I said to Levi, drawing his attention toward the path.

Levi’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face as he spotted Noah and his sister. 

“Papa!” he called out, his small body bouncing with excitement. He started to run toward his father but stopped when I pulled him back toward the blanket, keeping him close.

As Noah reached us, he bent down just as Sakura squirmed in his arms, extending her body and arms toward me. I scooped her up, cradling her close and planting a kiss on her cheek, her little nuzzle against my chest filling my heart.

With his arms now free, Noah crouched lower and scratched Trouble’s fur. 

“What happened to you?” He teased. “You look more colorful than usual.”

Trouble huffed, but as soon as Noah was laughing, she lifted her head to lick his hand. Noah smiled, rubbing her head before turning his focus to Levi.

“Hey, little warrior,” he said warmly. “How you doing?” He swept Levi up with ease and tossed him into the air, eliciting shrieks of joy. Levi giggled uncontrollably, his laughter filling the air as Noah caught him and repeated the throw.

Once Levi settled, he pointed excitedly at Trouble, his eyes sparkling. 

“Look, Papa! I put flowers on her.”

“I saw it. That’s a ton of flowers.”

Levi beamed proudly, then, as if remembering something important, pointed to me. 

“I put flowers on Mommy, too!”

Noah’s eyes shifted, softening as they landed on me. I was holding Sakura in my arms, who was eagerly nibbling on a piece of strawberry now. Our gazes met, and in that moment, for just a couple of seconds, everything else faded. The warmth in Noah’s eyes was as if it had just struck him again how lucky he was to have me by his side, as his wife. His gaze held mine, filled with both admiration and love, and I felt the familiar heat rise to my cheeks.

“She looks soooo priti!” Levi shouted, his voice high with excitement.

Noah’s lips parted.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through me, and despite all the years we’d spent together, I still found myself flushing under his brown eyes. 

But the spell was broken by Sakura’s small voice. She raised her hand and waved it, her tiny fingers catching Noah’s attention. 

“Me?!”

Noah sat down beside me on the blanket, letting Levi wander off to pick more flowers.

“You,” Noah began, poking her cheek, “are the prettiest babygirl I’ve ever seen.”

Content, Sakura gave him one satisfied smile, a bit shy at her Papa’s compliment as her cheeks tinted pink and she defleated in my lap. 

Noah laughed. I would never get tired of the way he smiled at our children—of the joy they brought him.

A couple of minutes later, distracted by her brother’s doings, Sakura crawled out of my arms and followed Levi, and Noah and I both watched our twins explore their little world. 

“Was she okay?” I asked Noah without taking my eyes of the children. 

“She was as good as ever,” he told me. “Sat still on her spot during most of the training session, clapping everytime someone lifted their sword. Pretty sure she’s ready for a nap now.”

Seeing her playing lively with Levi raised some doubts. 

When I turned to look at Noah, I caught him staring intently at me. A second after, he was leaning over me, tucking some hairs behind my ear and kissing the corner of my mouth. 

“You look beautiful today,” he whispered.

“You said that yesterday,” I retorted, but the grin spread through my face nonetheless. 

Noah shrugged, still leaning to me. 

“I am merely stating facts.” 

I tsked my tongue and placed a hand on Noah’s jaw to bring him to me and kiss him on the lips. Right as I was doing so, we heard a yelp. 

Sakura, who had been crawling with purpose, always trying to catch up with her more mobile brother, had stopped by a bush. With her tiny hands she had tried to reach up for a flower perched higher than she could comfortably grasp. And as she tried to stand on wobbling legs, she toppled over, a small gasp escaping her as she fell back onto the grass.

Noah was up in an instant, rushing to her side before I could even react, his speed startling in its swiftness. Levi stopped what he was doing to look between his baby sister and his father with wide eyes,

I exhaled, seeing Noah scoop Sakura up into his arms, checking her. She wasn’t hurt, just surprised. I watched Noah’s face contorn in concern, and I was suddenly thrown back in time, to the day the twins were born.

We hadn’t known I was carrying two babies. After I had given birth to Sakura earlier than expected, we thought the ordeal was over. I had been sore, exhausted, and overwhelmed with joy as I held our daughter in our arms and then when I passed her to Noah. But before I could relish much in the moment, my screams pierced through the room, Sakura had been taken out from Noah’s arms, and he’d been ushered out.

To this day, it was still the worst and best day of Noah’s life. 

He thought he was going to lose me, unaware that the pain that was seizing me had to do with the fact that there was still another baby inside me, desperate to come into the world. Levi had been bigger than Sakura from birth. Noah held this belief that he’d been taking care of his sister inside my womb and he had been a gentleman and let her out first. However, the contractions that came with him were at full force. The surprise and intensity of it all left me feeling drained, my body struggling to cope. The second birth had been arduous, and by the time Levi was born, I was too weak to stay conscious. I had also lost a lot of blood.

After Levi’s birth, Rika had rushed to find Noah. 

“What happened?” Noah had asked, frozen as they placed his babygirl back in his arms, but the familiar cry he heard didn’t come from the baby he was holding. His mind was racing. He looked around. Then, he spotted Milla not too far. She was holding his babygirl. In a heartbeat, the truth hit him. He was holding a boy. There were two babies. Twins. 

His gaze flickered back to me immediately, terrified of what he would see. He spotted me, pale and unmoving on the futon. Panic filled his chest as he stared at the blood beneath me. 

“She is… She’s going to be okay, right?” he asked, because there was no other possible question—or outcome. His voice had barely been steady as he held our son close, unable to tear his eyes from my motionless form.

Rika reassured him. 

“She’s going to be okay. She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll recover. She just needs time. In the meantime, you need to be with your children.”

As she said this, Rika placed Sakura into Noah’s free arm. He stood there, arms full, cradling both babies at once. He looked down at them, their tiny faces nestled against his chest, his long arms able to hold both of them securely. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of his twins—one boy, one girl—but worry gnawed at him because I wasn’t there to share the moment.

Noah carried them over to where I lay, sinking down beside me on the futon. He sat quietly, overwhelmed by this mixture of happiness and fear. Our children drifted into sleep, their little breaths soft and steady. Soon, we were alone. The four of us—my family. 

Hours passed, and eventually, I began to stir. My body ached, and my vision was blurry at first. I blinked, trying to focus, my head heavy on the pillow. The first thing I saw was Noah, sitting by my side, his face drawn with exhaustion and relief. He was whispering softly, his voice low and calming, but it wasn’t until I tilted my head slightly that I realized who he was speaking to.

There, lying beside me on white blankets, were two wide-eyed babies. Both were staring up at their Papa, their small bodies wrapped in soft cloth. The boy yawned, his tiny hands stretching out as he blinked at the world. Sakura’s dark eyes were fixed on Noah’s face, her little fingers twitching as if already reaching for him.

I blinked, disbelief flooding my mind. Two. There were two.

“Noah...?”

He turned to me, relief spreading through him like a soothing balm as he realized I was awake. His smile was tender, and though his words were quiet, the weight of them was heavy with love. 

“We have twins,” he said, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “We have two of them.”

As Noah sat back down beside me, holding Sakura close, Levi resumed his flower hunt, and I cherished the fact that our children had been born in a safe space where they could explore and grow to be who they wanted to be. Noah’s presence beside me had always felt like an anchor, always there when I needed him, but since he’d become a father, his attention and support had doubled. He caught my eye and smiled, as if reading my thoughts. I smiled back, feeling that familiar tug of affection, the one that never seemed to fade, even after everything we’d been through.

Just as I reached over to brush a stray petal from Levi’s hair, a soft rustling behind us caught our attention and I saw Rika approaching.

Noah stiffened slightly, always on alert. Rika smiled warmly, hands clasped together as she approached the front yard.

“There’s someone here to see you,” she announced. She lingered just long enough for my heart to stutter with curiosity—and a hint of worry. Sensing the suspense, she quickly added, “It’s your grandmother.”

The tension eased from my shoulders. Beside me, Noah chuckled, shaking his head.

“Always keeping us on our toes,” he said with a grin, glancing down at Sakura, who perked up at the mention of a visitor, at the same time as Trouble thumped her tail excitedly. 

Grandma had always been a frequent visitor, long before Noah and I were even married. I’d tried to convince her to move into the Sanctuary, but she loved her little house in the village too much. It wasn’t far, and she promised to visit often—and she did. Her visits had only become more frequent after learning she would soon be a great-grandmother, a title that seemed to fill her with boundless happiness.

Noah stood, settling Sakura back onto the blanket next to me. 

“I’ll go give her a hand,” he offered, knowing Grandma could use the extra support these days, now that she leaned on a walking stick. She’d probably appreciate Noah’s arm to hold onto.

As Noah walked toward the path from the center of the Sanctuary to greet her, I leaned back on my hands, watching him go. He moved with that quiet strength, always so sure of himself, even when the world around us felt uncertain. It was hard to believe how far we’d come since the chaos of the twins’ birth—the exhaustion, the fear, and then the joy that had followed. Now, here we were, with two vibrant, curious children and the life we’d always dreamed of.

Sakura, back to her usual determined self, began to crawl toward Levi, her hands gripping the grass as she tried to keep up with him. Levi, busy with his bouquet of freshly picked flowers, spotted her coming and toddled over to meet her halfway, offering a dandelion he’d plucked from the ground. 

Inside the house, the air was warm and filled with the comforting scent of tea brewing. Noah was in the kitchen, preparing cups for everyone while the children played on the floor. I sat across from my grandmother, listening to her stories, her voice like a soothing melody.

Before long, Sakura set her sights on Noah’s katana, which hung temptingly on its stand by the entrance. Her little body wobbled on all fours as she began her mission and crawled toward it, her eyes gleaming with determination. I watched her from my seat, knowing Noah wouldn’t let her get far. Sakura seemed to sense this as well, for she paused midway and tilted her head to peer toward the open kitchen, where her Papa was busy pouring tea. Cleverly, she veered toward a cabinet, hoping to slip out of his sight. It was a smart tactic, but despite her stealth, the soft patter of her tiny hands and knees on the wooden floor soon caught Noah’s attention. Pausing, he raised his brows at the suspicious sound. The noise came again, like a small animal sneaking through the room, then silence. A grin tugged at Noah’s lips.

Moments later, a tiny hand peeked out from behind a piece of furniture, and Noah stifled a laugh as he resumed his work with the tea. 

Without looking up, he said, “I can see you.”

The instant he spoke, Sakura knew she’d been discovered. Her hands slapped the floor with renewed urgency as she crawled faster. 

Setting down the kettle on the kitchen island, Noah stepped out and scooped her up just before she could make her grand escape. Her little body squirmed in his arms.

“Not so fast,” he teased, tickling her belly.

Sakura’s giggles echoed through the room, filling it with a joyful energy that made all of us smile. Her small hands immediately reached towards his katana again, her fingers curling in the air toward the glimmering handle as she babbled the word: “Kitana, kitana!”

“That’s Papa’s. You’ll have to wait a little longer.”

Noah bounced her in his arms as he carried her back to the living room. 

Grandma, who had been pleasantly observing, had a spark in her wrinkled eyes as she laughed.

“She’s going to learn her way with a katana before she learns to walk, isn’t she?”

I couldn’t say no to that, looking at our daughter, whose fascination with her father’s sword was growing by the day. Noah set Sakura on my lap, her tiny hands still making grabby motions toward the weapon in the distance. She was relentless.

“She’s got a strong will, that’s for sure,” Noah said, watching her as she tried to wiggle free from my grasp to make another attempt for the katana. “Just like her Mama,” Noah added, casting me a glance before heading back to the kitchen to retrieve the tray with tea and snacks. 

“With a father like you, it’s no wonder she’s drawn to swords,” I teased back. 

Noah chuckled and finished preparing the tea, the soft, floral scent of jasmine filling the air as he brought the tray over to the low table in the center of the room. The sliding doors were open, and a breeze swept through the space, carrying with it the scent of the garden and the occasional sound of Trouble chasing chickens outside. 

“Levi, come sit with us and Grandma,” I called softly, watching Levi abandon the block tower he was building. He ran over with his usual burst of energy, his brown hair messy and strands hanging loose from his earlier play. 

Sakura was already seated beside Noah, nestled against big pillows that propped her up comfortably. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she watched her Papa take a sip from his tea. Noah handed me my cup. He smiled knowingly as he passed a cup to Grandma, then turned his attention to Sakura. 

“You want some?” he asked. Immediately, he dipped his index finger into his cup and offered her a tiny drop.

Sakura leaned forward, her tiny pink lips pursing as she tasted the warm tea from the tip of his finger. Her eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course she loved it—she was my daughter after all. 

Noah glanced at me. 

“Just like her Mama.”

After a while, with Levi nestled between Sakura and me, enjoying some snacks, I kept an eye on them, waiting for any sign they might be ready for a nap. Despite the day’s activities, however, both twins seemed wide awake. As the adults chatted, I didn’t notice when Levi, responding to Sakura’s insistent whispers, dipped his finger into my tea to offer her a few more drops.

It was Noah who caught him. 

With a slight frown, he said, “Levi, stop giving tea to your sister.”

“But she likes it,” Levi replied earnestly.

“You won’t like it when she gets all wired and keeps you up later,” Noah warned gently.

Levi blinked, likely not fully understanding his father’s point, but he obediently wiped his finger on his shirt and muttered a soft, sweet “Papa says no more” to Sakura, who looked at him with hopeful eyes.

A while later, with the twins still wide awake and showing no signs of tiring, Noah decided to take them out to the garden to burn off some energy. 

“Come on, you two, let’s tire you up,” he said with a grin, scooping them up. The twins squealed with delight as he hoisted them up high.

Once they were in the garden, he set each of them on one of his shoulders, holding them steady with his hands.

“Papa! ‘s very high!” Levi exclaimed. 

“This is called weight training,” Noah told them, pretending to strain under their combined weight. Levi and Sakura giggled, clutching his hair for balance as he wobbled dramatically. 

“Hey! Easy on the hair, little minx.” 

He pretended Sakura was about to slip off his shoulder, making her squeal, then shifted his balance as if Levi were the one tipping off the other side. Their peals of laughter echoed across the yard. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard—made all the more precious because it was Noah who was causing it.

Noah held them firmly, with the practiced ease of a father—and a Samurai, of course— who would never let them fall. Eventually, he set them down, and the two darted off across the grass. A short while later, Levi discovered a fallen wooden branch, smooth and straight—perfect for his purposes. His small fingers gripped it with a sense of destiny, and he swung it around with wide, serious eyes. 

“Papa!” he called. Then announced proudly, “I Samurai!”

Sakura, his biggest fan, started clapping her hands as she sat on the grass, hair messy and her face alight with admiration for her brother. Noah chuckled, kneeling down beside Levi, his own eyes twinkling.

“Show me your stance, little warrior.”

Levi straightened up, glancing at his father with fierce concentration, and clumsily attempted to imitate Noah’s stance, one foot forward, knees slightly bent. His little face was full of focus as he held the stick in front of him, eyes narrowed. Noah bit back laughter, unable to hide his delight at the sight of his son’s determined expression.

“You look like a real samurai, Levi,” Noah praised, giving him an approving nod. “But remember,” he added, “a samurai must have patience and strength.”

Levi nodded solemnly, gripping his wooden “sword” with purpose. 

“And they look after their baby sisters!”

Noah nodded. “They look after the girls they love,” he corrected. 

Sakura crawled over at full speed to join them bouncing on her hands and knees with enthusiasm. Noah, still kneeling, extended his arm to offer her support in case she wanted to try and stand up. 

From our seats in the living room, Grandma and I watched the scene unfolding in the garden. The sliding doors were open to the porch, and the breeze carried the sounds of Noah’s laughter and the twins’ gleeful squeals inside. We sipped our tea as we observed the little family scene—my little family.

 “Noah is so devoted to the children,” Grandma commented, “and to you. It makes me so happy to see this man so committed to his family.”

“I can only imagine how devoted he’ll be when there’s three of them,” I said, almost absently.

Grandma turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“Three? What do you—?”

I gently placed a hand over my stomach. 

“I think there’s a third one on the way,” I whispered.

“Oh, darling!” she exclaimed, immediately wrapping me in her arms. I hugged her back, feeling her love and excitement surround me. As I glanced over her shoulder, I caught sight of Noah looking toward me from the garden, a quizzical expression on his face. I waved him off with a quick shake of my hand, signaling that everything was fine.

“Does he know?” Grandma asked, pulling back and searching my face with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

“Not yet,” I replied. “I don’t want him to start worrying about me or the baby too soon. He’d only stress himself out and live in a constant state of panic.”

A soft, delicate smile spread across her face as she nodded in understanding. One last glance down at my stomach, and her eyes showed a new light as she processed the happy news. 

“You’ve built such a precious family,” she noted, squeezing my hand. “This is what you deserve.”

I nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle in my heart. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

My attention drifted back to the garden, where I spotted Sakura crawling across the grass again, her little body wiggling as she explored every inch of the ground. Levi toddled after her, a tiny, determined protector, keeping an eye on her every move as he held the stick in his hand. When Sakura reached out for a small, spiky stone, Levi waddled over, furrowing his brow in concern. 

“No, sis! Don’t touch!” he scolded in his limited but emphatic vocabulary, holding out his hand to stop her.

Despite her brother’s warnings, Sakura only giggled, flashing him a mischievous smile before crawling even faster, forcing Levi to chase after her. His little legs moved quickly, stumbling slightly but with determination as he followed her across the garden. Watching the two of them, Noah leaned back on the grass, a proud smile spreading across his face as he witnessed the bond between our kids. 

When Sakura crawled back to her Papa, Noa brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face. 

“Why don’t we practice your walking skills a little bit, huh? Enough crawling around,” he said, tapping her tiny nose. “Until you can stand on your own, babygirl, how do you plan on holding a katana?”

Sakura probably only caught the word “katana”. Nonetheless, she raised her arms up to him, and with his help, she planted her feet in front of her. Levi, always eager to be part of his sister’s milestones, scrambled to her side. He grasped her small hand. Noah placed his huge ones around her little body.

“Come, sis,” Levi encouraged. He tugged her hand forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he and Noah helped her up and steadied her. Sakura wobbled, almost losing her balance. She took a shaky step, then another.

Levi coaxed her along with a beaming smile, glowing with pride at his sister’s efforts. 

“You’re doing it, sis!” he said, pulling her forward with all the enthusiasm his small frame could muster. Sakura responded with another happy squeal, her trust in her brother absolute as she stumbled forward, gripping his hand tightly.

From the edge of the garden, Trouble lay stretched out under the sunlight, her black eyes tracking every move. She watched Sakura’s attempts with rapt attention, her tail swishing with encouragement as if cheering on our little one.

Sakura took a few more shaky steps, her hand still gripping Levi’s for balance, until she finally lost her footing. But just as she began to teeter, Noah scooped her up into his arms before she could fall. Sakura clung to her Papa, and Trouble, as if sensing the moment, lifted her head and let out a triumphant howl, celebrating our tiny human’s success.

Noah laughed, cradling Sakura close as she snuggled into Noah’s chest, exhausted but utterly thrilled, while Trouble wagged her tail even harder, her proud gaze following. It was as if she understood the victory of Sakura’s steps and was just as invested in every small victory as the rest of us.

As Noah held Sakura, her head rested against his shoulder, her hair now loose—the bun undone, and the hairband lost somewhere in the garden. Her eyelids began to flutter, the day’s activities finally catching up with her. She gave a little sigh, her fingers curling sleepily into his shirt as she drifted off. Noah turned to Levi, extending his free hand. 

“Come on, buddy.”

Levi obediently took his father’s hand, and together they headed back inside, with Trouble padding along behind them.

Once we were all back in the living room, Trouble trotted over to me, her keen eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint. She pressed her nose against my stomach, nudging me softly. I stroked her fur and gave her a gentle “Shh,” hoping she’d keep our little secret just a bit longer. 

Meanwhile, Noah adjusted his grip on the now-snoozing Sakura, and glanced at Levi, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to your room for a nap,” he murmured, giving Levi’s hand a squeeze. Levi didn’t protest, his tiredness starting to show. “Go give Mama and Grandma a kiss.”

Levi leaned in and placed the softest kiss on my cheek, whispering, “bye, Mama.” Then moved to hug Grandma.

As they made their way to the twins’ shared bedroom, I watched them disappear down the hallway and Trouble settled down beside me, resting her head on my lap. I scratched behind her ears.

After a little while, Noah came back.

“They’re both out like lights.” He settled into his seat with a relaxed sigh, picking up his cup and taking a long sip of his tea. He noticed Trouble, who was still comfortably nestled with her head on my lap. “Hey, big girl,” he said with mock indignation, arching an eyebrow. “Where’s my share of the cuddles?”

As if understanding his request, Trouble lifted her head from my lap and trotted over to Noah, plopping down beside him with a huff. He scratched her behind the ears and ruflled the fur on her neck. She leaned into him, accepting his attention with her usual grace.

The peace didn’t last long, though. Less than an hour into their nap, I noticed Trouble’s ears perk up, her attention shifting to the hallway. She slipped away from us, heading toward the children’s bedroom. 

She had sensed them waking up. 

Sakura and Levi weren’t the type to cry when they woke; for the past year, they’d developed a habit of waking each other with little noises and soft giggles, almost as if inviting each other to play. 

I got up and followed Trouble, who smoothly squeezed through the gap Noah had left in the door.

When I opened it fully a moment later, I found Levi already out of bed, his face alight with excitement as he tried to wrestle with Trouble, charging at her and pushing with all his tiny might. Trouble looked thoroughly amused as she lay there with perfect patience, moving just enough to make him feel like he was putting up a real fight. His laughter rang out as he finally managed to clamber onto her back. In response, Trouble rolled over gently, pinning him beneath her massive paw in a playful but controlled move.

Not wanting to be left out, Sakura, who was obviously also awake, crawled over, her eyes fixated on Trouble’s tail as it swished enticingly from side to side. With a little pout, she reached out, trying to grab it, but Trouble swayed it just out of reach, starting a game of chase. Sakura crawled faster as she tried again and again to capture the elusive tail.

“Catch Trouble!” she called. 

Levi, now up on his feet, toddled around the room with all the confidence of a young explorer, and Sakura was quick to follow, her rapid crawling fueled by her intention to keep up with either her big brother of the wolf. Her little hands slapped against the floor as she tried to match their pace, but every so often, she would fall just a bit behind, her face scrunching in frustration.

Noticing this, Trouble ever so heedful, decided to pad over to her and lay down directly in her path, as if offering a solution. Sakura’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly clambered onto Trouble’s back, settling herself with a triumphant smile as she shouted “catch!”. With her tiny hands buried in Trouble’s thick fur, she held on tightly as the wolf rose slowly, careful with each movement and letting her enjoy her “victory”. Then, with Sakura perched securely on her back, Trouble began to walk at a measured pace, following Levi’s toddling path around the room. Sakura squealed with joy, her laughter bright as she held on, her little body bouncing with each step.

I watched them all, my heart full as I leaned against the doorframe.

Come evening, we prepared for the nightly ritual of bath time, one of my favorite moments of the day, while Grandma prepared dinner. I’d insisted she leave it to us, as she was our guest, but she insisted on cooking while we took care of the children. Noah and I filled the tub with warm water, adding just a hint of baby shampoo that filled the air with a soft, sweet fragrance and created a layer of frothy bubbles on the surface. After I undressed Sakura and Noah undressed Levi, we eased them gently into the water, ensuring their little bodies had time to adjust to the warmth.

Sakura, a water enthusiast, started kicking her legs right away. The instant her tiny feet touched the water, she sent splashes flying toward me, Noah, and her little brother, setting off giggles that only grew louder as she saw our crinkled faces.

Once seated in the tub, Levi joined in the fun, slapping the bubbles with his hands and gathering foam to blow into the air—a trick he’d picked up from watching me when they were a bit younger. Noah and I washed them carefully, shampooing their hair, which sometimes turned into a bit of a juggling act as they squirmed and giggled, forcing us to keep a steady grip so they wouldn’t slip beneath the water.

“Close your eyes,” Noah called out when it was time to rinse their hair. They both complied, but Sakura’s face always tensed a little, still a bit wary of the water streaming over her head and face.

Finally clean, smelling fresh and looking irresistibly pink-cheeked, with their skin moisturized and their hair tangle-free, we bundled each of them in thick, fluffy white towels, wrapping them snugly into two little burritos. They looked up at us, eyes half-closed, as if already starting to sink into the cozy warmth, the softness of the towels hugging their tiny bodies.

I stayed behind in the bathroom to clean up as Noah carried our little bundles over to our bed. I gathered the twins’ bath toys, placing them in a basket, then paused just outside the doorway to watch. Noah knelt on the bed, playfully towering over their tiny forms as they lay side-by-side, snug in their towel cocoons. He was using his playful, bedtime voice. 

“Who are Papa’s favorite little warriors?” 

Sakura and Levi gurgled and giggled under their Papa’s attention. Levi reached out, and Noah leaned closer, letting the tiny fingers brush his cheek, only to “accidentally” shift so Levi’s hand tapped his nose instead. Noah widened his eyes in surprise, prompting a delighted laugh from Levi. With a grin, Noah lifted Levi’s chubby feet, playfully nibbling at his toes before turning his attention to Sakura, who had been watching his antics with wide-eyed fascination. 

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you a brave little warrior?”

Sakura stretched an arm toward him, and he took her tiny hand, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. Then, tracing a line down her face, he murmured, “You’re Papa’s fearless princess, that’s what you are,” finishing with a tender boop on her nose.

He unwrapped her towel just enough to blow soft raspberries on her belly, then did the same to Levi, sending both of them into fits of giggles as they tried to curl up as if trying to escape.

“Who’s got the giggles now, huh?” Noah chuckled.

Noticing me in the doorway, he reached out a hand, and I joined him, bringing over the kids’ pajamas from the drawer. 

The next morning, Sakura was suprisingly the first to wake, her little voice calling for me. I could tell immediately that she was hungry, so I scooped her up and took her with me as I sat in the rocking chair in the room, where the quiet of the early morning enveloped us like a cozy blanket. As I fed her, the soft light filtering through the window illuminated her delicate features, and I couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and peaceful my daughter looked, with her Papa’s same eyes and hair.

“Slept well, babygirl?”

With her hands around the bottle and her lips glued to the tip, her eyes found mine and she nodded. 

Once she was fed and fully awake, I reminded her that Levi was still asleep, so I carried her with me back to the master bedroom, where Noah was still tangled in the sheets, lying on his stomach, shirtless, with one hand tucked beneath a pillow.

“Papa,” Sakura called.

Just hearing her say his name was enough to coax a smile from him, even with his eyes still closed. I let her climb onto the bed, and she crawled right over to him, nudging his tattooed shoulder with a soft insistence.

“Papa!” she repeated, louder this time, her tiny hands pushing against him.

“Yes, babygirl?” Noah mumbled, rolling over slowly to face her.

Sakura babbled something that neither of us quite understood, and we shared a laugh, enchanted by her morning enthusiasm.

“I know, I know,” Noah replied, stretching his arms overhead as he sat up, the sheets slipping away to reveal the entirety of his muscled tattoed torso. 

After a few moments of morning cuddles, Noah got dressed and decided to take our daughter out into the garden, where they were greeted by Trouble. They settled on the porch, where Noah cradled our baby girl in his arms, the two of them framed by the glow of the rising sun.

As the first light of day crept over the mountains, Sakura cooed and babbled happily, her little hands pointing at the sky in wonder. Noah murmured softly to her, sharing snippets of thoughts and observations about the world. He pointed out the way the colors changed in the morning light, the birds flitting about, and the way the leaves shimmered with dew.

After the entire family woke up and had finished breakfast, Grandma called out the children into the living room. 

“I have some surprises for you, little ones. Come here sit with Grandma.” On the floor in front of her were colorful packages wrapped in bright paper, each adorned with shiny ribbons. “Look what I brought for you!” 

Levi dashed over, tugging at his sister’s hand to urge her to crawl along behind him. 

Grandma began by handing them each a small package. Levi ripped into his with the fervor of a true little boy, revealing a set of brightly colored building blocks. His eyes widened in awe. 

“Look, Mama!” he exclaimed, holding them up proudly.

Sakura, on the other hand, took her time, delicately unwrapping her gift with tiny fingers. When she finally revealed a plush white bunny with extremely long ears, her face lit up with pure joy. She hugged it tightly to her chest, her delight evident as she nestled her head against it.

“Do you like your new bunny, sweetheart?” Grandma asked, her heart swelling with happiness.

Sakura nodded vigorously.

After unwrapping the toys, Grandma reached behind her and brought out two beautifully folded outfits.

“For my little warrior,” she announced, holding up a small, traditional outfit for Levi—a miniature warrior’s attire, complete with delicate, intricate details that mimicked one of his father’s. “And for my little princess,” she continued, revealing an elegant white kimono adorned with tiny embroidered blossoms.

We’d kept both children in modern, comfortable clothes—soft cotton jumpers, leggings, and joggers that allowed them to move freely and easily. But seeing these traditional clothes, made with such care and attention, felt like a small window into the past, connecting them with the roots of their heritage.

Levi darted over to Noah, who was sipping black coffee by the garden, one hand cradling his mug while the other rested on Trouble’s thick fur, who stood at Noah’s waist even on all fours.

“Papa! Can you help me wear this? I’m going to be just like you!” Levi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the bundle of cloth and miniature armor pieces clutched in his tiny hands.

Noah set his coffee down and motioned Levi closer. He knelt, carefully fastening each part of the outfit, steady hands adjusting every strap and buckle with the same focus he might bring to his own armor. Levi stood stock-still, his chest puffed out proudly. When Noah finally stepped back to take in the sight, Levi looked every inch the little warrior. 

Noah chuckled softly, reaching out to smooth our son’s hair. 

“Looking good, Levi,” he murmured, feeling a tug of pride at the familiar look in Levi’s eyes. It was like seeing a younger version of himself, bold and ready for anything. “Did you say thank you to Grandma?”

As if realizing his mistake, he turned around and shouted, “Thank you, Grandma!”

Grandma’s smile only grew bigger.

As we admired Levi’s transformation, I noticed Sakura still sat on the floor, a look of frustration and sadness spreading across her face. She was tugging at her sweater, trying to pull it off by herself, her little face scrunched up in concentration—and then she started to cry silently, overwhelmed by her desire to join in but unable to undress on her own.

“Oh,” I muttered as I walked to her and kneeled down. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to help you.”

“No need to cry, come on,” Noah interjected, scooping her up and settling her on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. “Arms up, baby.”

She lifted her arms, sniffling a little as he gently pulled off her sweater and guided her tiny arms into the sleeves of her kimono. He adjusted each fold with care, and then tied the delicate sash around her waist. Once she was dressed, Noah lifted her and propped her up on his thighs. She stood there, balanced in his hands, her big eyes taking in the soft white fabric that flowed elegantly around her tiny frame. The kimono’s delicate folds shimmered in the morning light and made her look like a tiny princess straight out of a storybook.

“Look at you. My beautiful babygirl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Sakura stood still, gazing up at him with a tiny blush blooming on her cheeks, her admiration shining so openly that it made Noah chuckle.

“I think your daughter might be in love with you,” Grandma commented with a smile.

“You have no idea,” I interjected, and all of us laughed. 

I walked over to them, smoothing my hand over the soft, white fabric of Sakura’s kimono, adjusting a fold even though Noah had already done it perfectly. She gazed up at me, her big eyes bright with excitement, and I couldn’t help but smile, my heart swelling as I took in her joy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. I glanced at Noah, letting a playful glint spark in my eyes. “Daddy did a great job.”

Noah smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. 

“Pretty good with belts and knots, aren’t I?” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I caught the edge of his joke. I shot him a wide-eyed look, barely able to hold back my laugh. Typical Noah, sneaking in a comment like that while Grandma and the kids were right there. Lucky for him, everyone else seemed blissfully unaware.

Then, with that familiar, warm smile, he slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to feel how much he loved being here with us, with his family.

Sakura watched us, her little face brightening as she glanced between her father and me. “Papa, kiss Mama,” she piped up, clapping her hands together.

Noah chuckled, his gaze meeting mine with a look that held years of shared stories, a million unspoken words. Then he tilted his chin up, I bent down, and he kissed me, a soft press of his lips that was so familiar yet always felt like a quiet thrill. Sakura’s giggles filled the room, the kind of laughter that made everything feel lighter, as if we’d slipped into one of the fairytales she loved so much.

After spending time with Grandma and taking a walk down to the heart of the sanctuary that morning, we met Rika’s family and other neighbors. Lunch was a communal affair in the main hall, where the air was rich with the scent of fresh rice, vegetables, and miso. Levi and Sakura spent the afternoon running about, playing with Rika and Milla’s children, giggling as they chased one another—eighter on two or four legs—, and even cautiously patting and feeding the deer that roamed around.

Trouble stalked nearby, her tail held high and a low, protective growl rumbling every time one of the other animals got too close to Levi and Sakura. She was overprotective, and it was clear she took her self-imposed role as a guardian seriously. 

Eventually, we made our way back to the house, the golden afternoon light filtering through the trees. While Noah went outside to feed Trouble, Grandma approached me with a knowing look in her eye. She took my hands in hers, her warmth and wisdom wrapping around me.

“Why don’t you and Noah take some time for yourselves?” she suggested. “I’ll stay here with the children.”

“But you only just got here,” I protested, reluctant to impose. “You don’t need to jump right into babysitting duty, Grandma.”

She gave a small laugh, her eyes crinkling.

“Maybe because I think Noah should know the news,” she said.

I paused, feeling a soft swell of emotion at the thought. Her hand squeezed mine as she looked into my eyes. 

“I know he’ll be even more protective and likely won’t let you out of his sight for a moment, but he deserves to be part of this journey and not miss a day. Let him share in the joy and excitement with you.”

I took a deep breath. She was right, of course. Noah deserved to be a part of this new chapter from the very beginning, and I could already picture the joy in his eyes when he found out about the life growing inside of me. 

I bit my lip, but eventually nodded. With my heart grateful, I gave Grandma a warm hug.

After a quiet moment, I made my way outside, finding Noah as he leaned against a tree, watching Trouble with a satisfied smile as she finished her meal. He looked up as I approached. 

“Why don’t we go out for a bit?” I suggested, doing my best to sound casual.

Noah raised an eyebrow, casting a glance toward the living room where Levi and Sakura were happily playing with Grandma. 

“Again? I think both the kids and Grandma might be tired…”

“Just the two of us,” I clarified, cutting him off with a small smile.

He turned back to me, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding, realization dawning in his eyes. 

A slow smirk crept across his face. 

“Just us?” he murmured, his tone lower.

“Yes,” I replied, extending my hand toward him. He took it without hesitation, his warmth making me feel all the more eager to share this not-so-little secret with him.

Inside, we gathered a picnic basket and filled it with a blanket, fruit, and other snacks. We said goodbye to the children, who didn’t seem too preoccupied with us leaving thanks to Grandma’s presence. As we made our way to the door, Trouble followed us, glancing over her own back every two seconds, clearly undecided between following us or staying back with Levi and Sakura.

“No worries, Trouble. You’re in charge here,” Noah told her. She hesitated, giving us one last look, before trotting back inside and settling herself protectively beside the children, her tail curling around Sakura and tickling her in the face, making her scrunch her nose and cover her face with her arms. 

Noah and I left the house with a loving laugh. 

The weather was perfectly warm and clear as we set off up the path toward a hidden pond not too far, eager to savor the last few hours of sunlight. It was a secluded little haven we had discovered just before I got pregnant with the twins—a place Noah and I had made our own, keeping it a secret even from the kids for now. As much as we loved being parents, we cherished our time alone, too. Though Noah hadn’t said it outright, I could tell from the glint in his eyes how much he appreciated Grandma’s gesture in giving us this moment to ourselves.

We spread out the blanket on the sand surrounding the pond, the warmth of the late afternoon settling over us as we unpacked apples, peaches, berries, and pastries from the basket. Noah settled down and I knelt beside him, reaching eagerly for one of the chocolate pastries. But before I could take a bite, he gestured for me to sit between his legs. I moved over and leaned back into his arms, savoring the comfort of his warmth and the easy rhythm of his breath against my neck.

With his arms wrapped around me, he held a box of berries in front of us and began feeding both of us, occasionally rubbing a blueberry over my lips to tease me, pulling it back with before I could catch it. When I gave his thigh a playful pinch, he yelped, and I turned my head to meet his gaze with a glare that said, “You deserved that.”

After a while, with our appetites satisfied, I relaxed against him, my head resting on his shoulder and his chin gently perched on mine. His cheek brushed against me, warm and slightly rough—just the way I liked it. His arms held me close, my hands resting atop his as we took in the view together: the slow sway of the water, the vibrant reflections of the sun across the pond, the birds soaring overhead, and the flowers tilting upward as if reaching for the fading sun.

I felt the soft ghost of Noah’s lips graze the crook of my neck, where my skin was exposed. Instinctively I tilted my head to give him more access.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my skin. 

“What do I smell like?”

“Hmm. Lavender and… baby powder.”

I snorted, laughing softly. 

“So do you,” I teased, leaning in at an odd angle to nuzzle my nose against his cheek. He pulled a face.

“Please don’t tell me that,” he groaned. “A Samurai smelling like baby powder? Not exactly intimidating.”

“It makes you a responsible, caring dad.” My voice softened as I looked up at him, our faces so close I could see the flecks of darker brown in his eyes. “You’re the best father to our children I could’ve ever asked for.”

“Because you and our kids deserve only the best,” he replied, his hand sneaking up to touch my chin with a finger. He tiped it up. Then his palm cupped my cheek and he brought our lips together. 

We kissed under the trees, surrounded by the earthy scent of the forest, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Gradually, my body melted beneath his touch, and he shifted until I was lying back on the blanket, his mouth never leaving mine. 

Since the moment I got pregnant, Noah’s affection and care had grown, and he had never stopped showing how much he loved me and how beautiful I was in his eyes. He was a grown man now; gone was the teenage boy I’d watched training tirelessly on my father’s grounds. But his heart remained unchanged, and every now and then, he’d still wear that peaceful expression while he slept—the look of that young boy I’d first fallen in love with. Now, Noah was my husband, my soulmate, but he would always also be the boy that stole my heart.

Lying on the blanket, his hands explored my body, slipping beneath the fabric of my kimono to find my skin while my fingers trailed through his hair, drawing soft sounds from his lips that stirred a warmth deep within me. I hooked a leg around him, arching to meet him, offering myself without hesitation. Noah murmured something against my mouth, and as I ran a hand down his back to slip beneath his shirt and touch his muscles, his grip on my waist tightened.

“Behave,” he ordered, his voice rough. His eyes remained closed as he untied the laces of my kimono, spreading the fabric to either side and exposing my skin to the open air, a chill raising goosebumps.

“Or what?” I teased, nipping at his lower lip.

When he opened his eyes, they were dark and narrowed, though a playful glint lingered in them. 

“Or I’ll find a good use for this belt,” he replied.

“Oh? And then…?”

His brow lifted, slightly taken aback by my boldness. 

“Then I’ll place these berries on every spot that makes you shiver,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down the valley between my breasts and along my sides, tickling lightly. My giggles bubbled up, and he laughed with me, though his intent was clear. “And I’ll eat every one of them off you before letting my tongue wander between your legs.”

Heat pooled low in my belly, but I maintained a calm facade. 

“And you’re going to act so indecently out here in the open?” I teased, tilting my head toward a nearby deer quietly grazing in the shade.

Noah followed my gaze. 

“They’ve witnessed far filthier things than that, done by you,” he teased right back.

I couldn’t suppress a wide smile before his mouth descended on mine. In a matter of minutes, my underwear was gone, and Noah was making good on his promise with focused, deliberate devotion. I lay exposed on the blanket, berries scattered across my stomach as his mouth traced every inch of me, savoring each berry he plucked from my skin. He licked away the juice that dripped from them, glancing up at me every so often. 

Eventually, he shed his clothes as well. I watched him with a blissful smile, sated from my first climax, his skilled mouth having left gentle love bites along the inside of my thighs as the breeze carried away my gasps. When he finally entered me, I felt complete, holding tight to his shoulders as he moved within me, my legs locked around him and my eyes fixed on his. I lifted my head to meet him in a kiss, tasting the faint tartness of raspberries lingering on his tongue.

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice strained as he withdrew slowly, inch by inch, making me feel every exquisite part of him, “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down to me. 

“I’ll be yours,” I whispered hoarsely against his lips, my nose brushing his, “until the end of days, Noah.”

Our eyes locked, and as we moved together, he would reach up every so often to tuck stray strands of hair behind my ear or simply to cup my cheek with quiet affection. At one point, his hand wandered to the box of berries beside us. He held a strawberry to my lips, feeding it to me as he held still within me, his body warm and solid against mine.

“Sweet?” he asked hoarsely. 

I nodded, my cheeks flushed, overwhelmed as always by the press of his heavy body and his cock filling me completely.

“That’s exactly how you taste,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a deep, slow thrust that left me gasping. “No,” he corrected himself, withdrawing slightly, his muscles flexing under my hands as I clung to his biceps. “You taste even sweeter.” He thrust again, harder this time, drawing a cry from my lips. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let the Gods hear you. Let them know how good I make you feel.”

“Please, Noah,” I pleaded. “I’m so close.”

He knew, and he didn’t hold back, guiding me to the edge and staying with me as I fell, a soft whimper escaping my lips as his name echoed through the trees. He followed soon after, his released spreading through me, our bodies trembling together as we clung to each other, complete in the quiet of the forest.

Not long after, Noah led me to the water. We cleaned ourselves off, then I wrapped myself around him like a koala. He spun us in circles, making me laugh until my sides ached.

When we emerged, my hair dry because I’d kept it tied back with a kanzashi stick, we dried off and slipped back into our underwear. Feeling utterly content, I lay down on the blanket, my hair spilling around me as soon as Noah pulled at the stick with a cheeky smile. He settled beside me on his stomach. He’d collected a small bundle of flowers—jasmine, sakura blossoms, and a few other delicate wildflowers. One by one, he began placing them over my belly, just as he had done earlier with the berries. When my skin was adorned with petals, he tucked the last sakura blooms in my hair.

The sight of those particular flowers stirred memories. They were a tender reminder not only of our daughter now, but of all those years ago when Noah would visit me at my grandmother’s village home at night, stealing moments with me under the moonlight and the sheets. He would leave in the early mornings, just before sunrise and before I would wake up. When I did, he was gone, but he always used to leave a bunch of sakura flowers on the pillow as a reminder of his love.

Now, the flowers were a reminder of our past and everything we had endured—of the strenght we had found in each other and how much we had accomplished, of the man and the woman we had become. 

“I have to tell you something,” I murmured, feeling the nervous tickling settling in my lower pit. 

He paused, holding a jasmine in his fingers, his eyes bright with curiosity. Without another word, I guided his hand to rest on my flower-covered belly. I watched as his brows furrowed, and then his eyes widening as he began to piece it together. The jasmine slipped from his fingers, settling delicately at my navel.

A quiet breath hitched in his throat as he took in the meaning of my gesture. His eyes filled with wonder, his lips parting slightly as he looked down at my belly, his hand pressing carefully—almost reverently— over me, protective and awestruck.

His question—“Are we having another baby?”—uttered so softly and carefully, as if he believed saying it too loud might shatter the truth of it, melted me. I nodded, my smile bright and cheeks warm, the blush deepening at the comfort of his strong hand resting over our child—our third. 

I felt weightless, floating in a dreamlike state as I looked into the warmth of Noah’s brown eyes, seeing the light of love and devotion that always glowed there. Not a day went by that he didn’t express how lucky he felt to have found me and to have fought for me—to had me fight for him—, how proud and grateful he was that I’d given him not only my heart but a family. I had given him happiness, the kind he’d been raised to believe he’d never deserve. 

After a beat, when the news settled in, his lips found their way to my flower-covered stomach, pressing a tender kiss right where our little one was already learning the love of their Papa. 

Back at home, our girl Sakura and our boy Levi played together, blissfully unaware that soon they’d have someone new to protect, to dote on, to share their world with. Just imagining their excitement and fierce protectiveness over their new sibling made me laugh, my eyes misting. Noah must have been thinking the same. He pressed his cheek against my bare skin. When his eyelashes fluttered, they sent a ripple of lovely goosebumps across my body. 

My hand slipped into his hair, fingers threading softly as we lay there together, wrapped in the quietness of our deserved joy. I had a husband, an adopted wolf, a daughter, a son—and another baby on the way, created from the endless love I shared with Noah—my soldier, my warrior. 

My Samurai.

✨ Author's note:

*cries* *cries more* *cries some more*

*continues crying*

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story, for all your support, for encouraging me to keep going after I posted the first part (which was supposed to be a one shot). Thank your for sharing your thoughts, for commenting, for reblogging, for messaging me about this fic and sending my brain on overdrive with your brainrots. Writing this story has been a dream, firstly because I always wanted to read a romance story with a Samurai and Noah made the perfect muse for it, second because it gave me an excuse to do a lot of research on Japan and its culture and history. This is in no way an accurate historical fic, but there's so much I've read online and s much I've learnt. I wish I could've made this fic into something better and make it more accurate—perhaps longer, too. But I'm currently very happy with what we've created together, yes, together, because half of this wouldn't exist without all of you that have showered me and my works with love and care. I'm forever thankful and glad that writing and sharing these so many words have brought me close to so many of you wonderful creatures.

I hope you know that, while this is the end of the fic, I have some exciting plans for the future involving samurai!noah. I don't want to say more for the time being, but don't say goodbye to him just yet.

I hope you loved reading this as much as I loved sharing it with you and reading your comments and reactions.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🥹

V. 💕

*proceeds to sob*

Taglist:

If I forgot someone, I'm so sorry! I love you! There's just so much going on in my head!

@girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel

@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

[hibiscus-intern]

Fit check for my new internship! This freighter ship is super cramped. You can barely see anything in the mirrors! I'll h- uh. Sounds like the Captain... Curly, I think? Sounds like he broke the news to my new boss. I'd better go check that out. AMA and I’ll get on it after my shift, yeah? Apparently we only get like, five hours of sleep! Aw man, I don't know anything about... Recording ended.

ASK BOX IS OPEN!

A/N and guidelines under cut! Please read before sending :]

Hi and welcome! I haven't run an ask blog in years, now, but this isn't my first go at it so I'll hop right into some rules and guidelines for interaction!

As a canon-adherent Mouthwashing blog, themes of abuse, assault, institutionalized misogyny & violence against women, capitalist and patriarchal hierarchies, rape culture, ageism, etc. can and likely will be explored. I am 21 years old and as such will tackle adult topics! I gently ask that people who interact do their due diligence not only to keep themselves safe but also to respect the severity of the themes in the games when engaging with Daisuke. While lighthearted asks are more than welcome, this is a blog run in earnest and out of a genuine interest (personal and scholastic) in the themes in Mouthwashing. I will tag with trigger warnings as I see appropriate. Thank you!

With this in mind, the blog is canon-compliant, meaning Daisuke only knows what Daisuke knew in-game (thus far, only pre-crash)! For example, he is not aware of Jimmy's true nature. Please bear this in mind when interacting and please do not be too surprised if his answers aren't as critical as a player of Mouthwashing might be. But not all questions have to be explicitly about the game canon! Feel free to ask personal questions or pose hypotheticals--I will tag headcanons and non-canon responses as appropriate. This is still a blog made out of love and for entertainment purposes!

I will periodically update the transit time in the blog description to reflect when in the voyage the questions are being answered from. If you want your ask answered from a specific time into the voyage, just add it in your ask! For archival purposes, the date at which he answered the question will be recorded in the tags :D

My name is Clem (he/him 🇲🇽🇬🇹), feel free to directly ask me things you're curious about!! 💗

Small shoutout! The creation of this blog was inspired by @/ask-anya-anything, whose posts I ran into over on Twitter! Absolutely an incredible writer and artist you should totally check out!

Thanks a bunch! Hope to hear from you soon ☀️

[azriona]

Not a Fairy Tale Kiss, Chapter 25

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Avenger!OFC (2nd person POV)

This Chapter word count: 3.5k ~ Total Story count: 130k ~ This chapter is rated Mature. Chapters posted Tuesdays, Thursdays, and most Sundays.

Summary: When you and Bucky are both accidentally hit with sex pollen while on a mission, you're determined to keep your relationship status at friendship, even if you’d like it to be more. Even if you think he feels the same. Even if you accidentally end up pregnant. Even if it kills you.

(Spoiler Alert: it might actually kill you. Good luck with that.)

Trigger warnings for later chapters include discussion of abortion, failed pregnancies, deaths of both mom & baby--not the MC! Full warnings on AO3. Happy ending is guaranteed, despite warnings. Please see AO3 for full A/N and tags.

Chapter Summary: In which you and Bucky have a difference of opinion, and a new player joins the game.

“You should be wearing a gas mask,” grumbles Bucky. “I’m fine, stop worrying,” you tell him. “Not that easy, darlin’,” mutters Bucky, right before he freezes, lifting his hand up in a signal to hold your position. You go perfectly still and listen; someone’s moving up ahead, their feet shuffling against the concrete floor. Bucky creeps forward, focused squarely on the dim gloom in front of you. You wait for his signal to join him. It doesn’t come. And doesn’t come. And doesn’t come. Oh, like hell are you letting him have all the fun.

Read the rest on AO3.

[chimimon]

Your Words

Astarion x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive, like more so than I have previously written, I think… jealously, biting, and it ends pretty abruptly because I don’t plan on posting smut here, so sorry about that y’all. If I missed any tags let me know! Please! Like fr send an ask my way and let chi know!!

& what I have to say is… This game has me in a chokehold. Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a headlock. Like unimaginably so. I’m hyper fixated all over again but this time a stupid fruity vampire calls me beautiful and asks to bite my neck and I asjdjwwsjidkekwakksdnb :) oh, and trigger warning for Halsin mention. <- E.P.

No eyeful sufficed; it was not enough to simply imagine being intertwined when the sudden ache began a week or so ago while Astarion had been playing with a blade. It was one of those things he did often enough to be called routine, ordinary, or unsurprising. What did not happen as often or routinely was how keen your attention had been on such fixed activities. A dozen times over you had traced his veins, memorizing when they were most defined on his knuckles, his forearms and whether it led to the toss of his knife or not. Worse than that, his sleeves were rolled up and around the two-minute mark he noticed your hypnotic gaze. 

Curious, Astarion decided to see for just how long he could keep your attention as he made a show of stretching his fingers afterwards, adjusting his sleeves, rolling his wrists and shoulders before sitting onto the floor with his head in his hands to watch the fire from his tent. Only then did he turn his attention to you with a raised brow and all-knowing smirk. It was obvious you were unaware of your staring as you quickly turned away. 

But it felt as though every ten minutes you would find something new about him to gawk at, and Astarion read you all too well. In frozen observation you hardly blinked in between shallow breathes. The deeper into thought you dove, the more your shoulders sunk, and the more your shoulders sunk, so dropped your eyelids. 

The attention was reminiscent of your behavior at the Tiefling party. After he made his tipsy proposal, he carefully studied just how aware you were of the events to come in every interaction you had before the night ended. How restless you seemed when you lied coyly on your rolled bed. Or just how often you touched your face and neck as you met him in your shared hidden place. Astarion loved how clearly he took up your mind, how blatant it was. He reveled in your tunneled attention and patiently waited for you to give him the word, or a signal of sorts, feeling that it would be nice to have you initiate intimacy as he was secure in your thoughtfully lustful desire. 

But no move was made. 

Tonight, it seemed Gale had no issue making conversation with you from across the campfire as you two were loudly going over alchemy notes from a journal Astarion picked up just for you. You began to pull out leaves and branches from a pouch in your lap, holding them to fire for light as Gale leaned in studiously. It didn’t mean anything, Astarion was sure of it, but if he thought that if he was newly recruited or hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought you and Gale were a thing within this flame lit scene which burned into Astarion mind as he replayed the last six days. 

It was as though you were scared to be near Astarion, to get close to him, to talk to him, but with him alone. Watching him the way animals watch prey, but without any stalk in your stride, without a wiggle or means to pounce. Just heavy glances and light sighs. Karlach had snapped you out of this state a couple of times as it was in her nature to melt you into an easy, giggling mess. Wyll found something that reminded him of some grand adventure while walking a trail and you two seemed to bond over the found item, making Astarion snort. Shadowheart had also decided to warm up in your company and grew intent with whatever you had to say. The way she looked at you seemed far too soft and sticky for friendship and her demeanor buzzed inside of Astarion’s memory. 

But the straw that broke the camel's back was Halsin. Despite you currently seated across Astarion, now handing over some mugwort to Gale, he could no longer ignore having overheard Halsin’s request to keep you company, and how inconsiderately close he was to Astarion’s tent moments ago. By then Astarion was just waiting for you to stop by to talk about it, unsure and indifferent to whether you wanted his permission to canoodle with Halsin. But when you b-lined to the campfire, a suspicious creeping feeling pushed him onto his feet to be seated on the log in front of you. Since he became aware of your careful watch, he noticed how keenly you avoided him and began to wonder if you watched him the way rabbits watch dogs; to run. 

Gale would not stop talking, so Astarion took it upon himself to quietly appear beside him, peering over his shoulder with a tilted stare at you. When your eyes met and widened, Gale slowly, and unknowingly turned to Astarion before he could be cartoonishly and audibly spooked by the elven vampire's sudden appearance. Gale took it as a sign to leave and politely excused himself from your company. Those blood-soaked eyes followed Gale until he was hidden behind a couple bushes toward his tent. 

Astarion seemed to be squinting, his eyes moving from yours, down to your mouth, before landing on your lap. You scrunched your nose when his gaze returned and he rolled his eyes before letting out an annoyed, airy laugh. “My love, should I be concerned?” 

You were obviously uncomfortable with your lap sewn shut, and your posture too taut. “Concerned? About what?” Your brows furrowed before opening. Every muscle melted as you tilted your head, mirroring him. "I mean, I haven’t taken Halsin on any offer to play hunter and bear.” 

He leaned back, deepening his stare, annoyed at your stiff disposition when that stupid wizard got to have you malleable and full of conversation. 

You nervously smiled and averted your eyes. “You know I would ask if I ever wanted to-” 

“Would...” He interrupted. “Of course, you knew I overheard his little, steamy proposal. But that’s not why I’m hurt.” 

It was written all over your face that you were replaying the conversation with Halsin, trying to figure out where you may have gone wrong or if you sounded too open to the opportunity. Asatrion continued when you began to chew on your bottom lip. “Darling, you hardly look me in the eye anymore.” His chest deflated as he huffed out another whiny plume of air. “I mean, before I at least knew that you could talk to me about, well, all of this.” 

All of this swiftly caught your attention. 

“Astarion.” You calmly said, ignoring the ache you pressed between your thighs as you ran your hands over your lap. “What do you mean by ‘this’?” You could swear your heart was beating loud enough to let everyone in camp know that Astarion was the item of your mind consuming lechery. Gods, you could knead dough with how hard your palms pressed into your thighs in some feeble attempt to calm a carnal throb. 

“This.” He whined with his hands apart, referring to you two. “Don’t be coy. You’ve been keeping an awfully close eye on me, and more than that you’ve kept your distance.”  

“Oh.” You whispered, ripping away the steady eye contact. 

“Oh? What do you mean oh-?” 

“Astarion.” You stood up, awkwardly fidgeting your feet before you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes. “Astarion can I... I can, um.” 

Everything stiff and cold was interrupted with nervous stretching, like you were forcing yourself to warm up in his presence, and he was unsure if he should be bothered or relieved by it. 

With mean sarcasm he said, “Your words, darling." 

“Don’t- I mean.” You softly snapped, making him nervous. “Could we um… can we maybe speak somewhere private?” 

Astarion shrugged, lifted off the log before motioning that you lead the way. When the way led to his tent, he got anxious. To him the conversation could go a couple of ways. One of them being you were too nervous to ask to be with Halsin, and that despite him willing to grant his permission, given his current mood, it would be reluctant permission to say the least. The other way was that you were unsure how to tell Astarion you couldn’t do it anymore. It meaning to be with him, and for that he couldn’t blame you, at least not honestly. The fear of you abandoning him after one good night, in what felt forever ago, grew as you motioned him to sit across from you, both of you on your knees as he watched you struggle once again to look at him in the eye. 

He could practically hear it in your inhale, see it in your clenched fists over your knees, and in your eye contact as you finally faced him. 

In your mind, everything felt intimate, close, hot even. You could feel your fingernails dig into your palms and you were sure you’d bleed if you balled your fists further. “I’m not sure how to word this without...” 

He held in a vain breath, slowly nodding while you searched for the words. 

“This is so stupid.” You grimaced, bring a knuckle to your teeth. “Astarion can I just-” 

“You can see him.” He said with feigned relief. 

“Who?” Your hands relaxed. 

“Halsin.” 

“What? No, wait.” Your whole body melted as you tried so hard to read the man in front of you. “What the hells are you talking about?”  “You don’t have to be so embarrassed, I mean,” Astarion leaned back, sighing more dramatically as he had already come to terms with surrendering you over to him. “I mean who would I be to keep you-” 

“Stop.” You held out your hands, shaking them with the same vigor used to shake your head. “Good hells Astarion, no.” You laughed, finally feeling ready to be open about your needs. 

Astarion shot back up with a raised brow, tilting his head again as he drummed on his lap. “Okay, well now I really don’t know what you want to talk about.” 

The growing silence was easy to bear in the sight of your smile, shy and bashful, making him a little hopeful that this was going to be an easier conversation. 

“Great because I’m going to sound stupid.” You sheepishly smiled. 

“As if I just didn’t.” He sucked in his teeth. “Come on darling, spit it out.” 

“Not if you’re going to ask me to spit it out.” 

“My sweet.” The snap in his tone caused you to really look at his face, and he looked anxious. His brows were together and lifted, he may as well have been pouting but you were finally noticing it. “If it’s distance you want, I can provide.” He looked down past your head before his eyes trailed around his space. “I mean you don’t have to go as far as to fighting battles as far from me as humanly possible.” 

“Oh, good gods no.” You leaned down to catch his gaze once more. “Wait no that’s not what this is.” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” 

“I’m just feeling very…” you flicked your hands in the air like you were pushing away the anxiety. “I’ve been feeling rather needy lately.” 

“Needy?” 

“I don’t want to spell it out.” 

“I think I need you to.” 

“Damn it, Astarion.” It was clear he was going to quietly wait, as he was also sitting in front of your exit. “Needy, needy meaning… aroused... I’ve been very horny, lately.” With both hands on your face, you hunched over. “I’m sorry,” was muffled into your palms before your hands slid down to see his reaction. 

Astarion had a bashful but at ease smile on his face. He let out a sharp laugh until he finally really looked at you. You were gripping your thighs, your eyes dilated and round. The animal like stare and careful distance kind of made sense. “And I thought I scared you away, sweetheart.” 

“Quite the opposite.” You whispered, unable to maintain eye contact “So, if you’ll excuse me-” 

 Astarion hummed as he dropped in. His hands planted themselves on either side of your lap, his nose inches away from yours. “And if I won’t?” 

Paralyzed, you held your breath and could feel your resolve snapping. “Astarion, I just… I said… are you sure?” He coyly rolled his eyes, pretending to think about it. “I can be patient.” You breathed, leaning back before he quickly scooted in, catching your chin in his hand before you could retreat. 

“Oh, don’t go running away again. Not when I want you.” He was studying your eyes and lips. You seemed so lost in his tent. “Not when I need you.” 

“You’ve had me, and I promise I can wait.” You whispered. “Please don’t tease me.” The quiet begging pulled at his chest and his desire. 

Then Astarion smiled wickedly. “Don’t think I can’t smell the arousal from less than a foot in front of my nose.” Quickly he snatched your wrist. If your hand were a rabbit, and your wrist its neck, he nuzzled his cheek against its head, playfully biting the neck of the rabbit before you could try to pull away. “And I don’t care to tease pretty things like you,” poisonous desire spilled from his mouth as he asked, “But when you say needy, what exactly to you require of me?” 

Mindlessly you shook your head as you feebly fought to take your hand back. 

“Your words, darling.” 

“Astarion, please this is-” 

“Embarrassing?” He purred. 

You held your breath as he faced your palm, from the corner of he could feel the heat in your face emit on his as he sighed again. “This couldn’t be nearly as embarrassing as the competition I have, my love.” A shit eating grin plastered onto his face as confusion appeared on yours. “You know... when your hand gets more of affection than I do.” 

Humiliated and hot. You were completely humiliated and hot as he waited for you to respond. 

“I mean your I’m sure your fingers can only do so much for so long in my place.” 

Past embarrassment you felt it necessary to say “Astarion, you know that I need you beyond anything you can do for me.” 

“So, you have been touching yourself, naughty girl,” he kissed your middle and ring finger without breaking eye contact. 

“I- Astarion I wouldn’t have,” you balled up your hand in which his thumb smoothed it open again. With little force you pushed forward to cup his face with him still latched in your wrist. “I just- gods I just worry you wouldn’t say no if you didn’t want to just because I’m asking.” 

“I do say no, & I have.” His hold loosened as he pulled back, taking in the soft concern on your face before the thought of that hand between your thighs flashed in his mind. Astarion’s eyes lids dropped, your kind concern caused him to be hard with arousal while his ruby eyes glistened. “Must I worry you won’t ask even if I’ll honestly say yes?” 

Your bottom lip was white between your teeth, so he reached out to hold your jaw, his fingers pressing in as you went doe-eyed and dazed. He was so close to your lips, so he whispered on your mouth. “Go on, my sweetheart. Ask.” 

“Astarion…” his breath tickled your bottom lip as your stomach dropped. 

“Yes, darling?”  

“Please…” you voice trailed off as the humiliation of it all set in. 

“Please what?” Astarion lifted you up as he lifted on his knees, looming over you as he brushed your hair behind one ear with his free hand. “I don’t think I know what want.” 

With all the excitement this brought, you quietly asked. “I want you to please kiss me. Please kiss me, Astarion.” And without a second lost, he pulled you into his hungry kiss, cupping your face with both hands as he pushed into you. 

© 2024 chimimon

[irondad-defensesquad]

"It's just..."

Tony hums encouragingly.

Peter sighs in defeat.

"... y-you remind me of him."

"Who?"

He bites his lip.

"Toomes."

(Or: Peter has a nightmare and he ends up telling Tony about Homecoming.)

[tacomedli]

Tainted Hero - Chapter 1

Sooooo I'm gonna try to start writing this story again, it was started in 2021, posted to ao3 in 2023, aaaaannnnd I never got past the first chapter. But here's to hoping! Anyway this chapter is already on ao3 obviously but I figured I might as well post it here too as something to get me started again.

Sneak peek:

Warriors barely glanced at them as this was happening, but in the split second that he was distracted he heard another cry--this time coming from none other than Legend. The captain watched in horror as vines of a black something crawled up the vet’s body, coming from--coming from his shadow.

“LEDGE!” Wars ran forward, not really having a plan but knowing he had to reach their veteran. The other heroes were shouting behind him, and he heard the thud of boots running in his direction, but he ignored it.

“I’m fine,” Legend bit out, then grabbed one of his legs and yanked. “I just can’t move.”

Warriors wrapped his arms around Legend’s torso and pulled. No luck.

The black grew steadily, now climbing up his waist. This was not good. 

Full chapter under the cut!

The monsters were infected, of course. It had been a while since Warriors had seen any that hadn’t been. In fact, the last time had probably been back before he’d met the other Link’s. What had caused all this strengthening black blood, anyways? Probably Dark Link, as he’d appeared in battle a few times to watch them from afar.

The heroes had grouped off into pairs, watching each other’s backs, with Wolfie helping out where he could. Twilight was nowhere to be seen, as he’d been off fetching more firewood when the ambush had happened. Hopefully he hadn’t been caught by monsters himself.

Warrior’s train of thought was interrupted by a particularly heavy slash from the lizalfos he was currently fighting against, and he almost staggered under the weight.

Keeping his balance was difficult on the uneven terrain, reminding him that they still had no idea whose time they were in--if anyone’s at all. Wars gave one final stab through the flesh of the lizalfos, piercing it through the heart. With an agonized squeal and a puff of purple smoke, the enemy was gone forever. The hero took a deep breath and turned around, looking for anyone who needed help.

His eyes widened when he saw the Shadow himself, the despicable Dark Link, sitting lazily in the branches of a nearby tree, his expression somewhere between amused and bored. 

“Time!” Warriors shouted, throwing a look over his shoulder at their unofficial leader. “The Shadow is here!”

Eight pairs of ears (though one covered in fur) perked up at that. If only these monsters would give them a break so they could face the real threat!

Time grunted in response, unable to move away from the two stalfos that were currently circling him. Wolfie bounded up to him, snarling and making to bite the ankles of one of them. Time spared the wolf a glance, his grip on the Biggoron Sword tightening. “Wolfie, I got this! Go help Warriors!”

Wolfie gave a sharp bark in return, then turned around to scan the battlefield for royal blue and midnight black. 

It wasn’t hard to spot. War’s blade flashed silver in the sunlight; scarf billowing out behind him. Dark Link’s grin was eerily wide as he slipped down from the tree limb, not bothering to equip any sort of weapon.

Wolfie’s eyes narrowed as he sped toward them. If the Shadow was unconcerned with the danger surrounding him, then he must have something up his sleeve yet. Wolfie wished briefly that he was human right now, so he could shout some sort of warning to be cautious in Warriors’ direction. 

At that moment, Warriors risked a look behind his shoulder. He’d heard Time’s yell, so it didn’t surprise him when he saw Wolfie coming closer. What did surprise him was the blur of red and green that matched an arrow’s speed, and the fierce battle cry as the Tempered Sword was raised high.

Legend.

Dark Link didn’t move until the last possible second, whipping out a blade that was black as coal to counter golden orange as Legend slammed into him. Warriors didn’t even know where the black sword had come from--but knowing Dark Link, it was probably summoned by dark magic or some other evil spell thingie.

Said Dark Link was unharmed from the attack, but even so, the force with which Legend hit the Shadow’s blade sent them both skidding forward a few feet--or backwards, in the Shadow’s case.

The latter still grinned as he pushed against the interlocking blades with a shove, forcing Legend to jump back. By this time Warriors had reclaimed his wits, and after taking a deep breath, charged the Shadow head on.

Dark Link was light on his feet, however, if the next minute proved anything. He barely even used any sort of magic as he alternated between defense and attack with his opponents, Wolfie included.

Neither side was gaining, though the heroes seemed to be the only ones growing tired. They’d been battling a camp of monsters up until now, after all, while Dark Link had only laughed to himself as he watched from the safety of an oak.

Upward swing, jump back. Spin attack, shield. Dodge, jump back. Swing again--

Warriors could feel the beads of sweat rolling down his temple, and was all too aware of a surprisingly painful pebble in the bottom of his right boot. How much longer was it going to take before someone else came to help? He’d like to think the three of them could take the Shadow on themselves, but he’d learned long ago that underestimating the enemy was no small mistake.

Wolfie jumped to bite Dark Link’s arm, but as he’d done countless times before, the Dark side-stepped him while simultaneously clashing swords with Warriors. That eerie grin was finally gone, but there was a glint in his eyes that Wars didn’t like one bit.

Legend threw himself forward yet again, hoping to get in an attack while the Dark was occupied. However, Dark Link vanished into thin air just before Legend could reach him, causing Wars to stumble from the sudden lack of pressure.

“Argh!” Legend whirled around. “Where are you, you--”

Warrior’s eyes widened. “Leg, look out!” he yelled as the Shadow reformed behind the veteran. 

Legend knew exactly what Warriors’ warning meant, and that if Dark Link was truly behind him, there wouldn’t be any time to turn around before he was quite literally stabbed in the back. So instead, he opted for a spin attack.

Which probably would’ve worked--if Dark Link wasn’t insistent on showing off his teleportation magic. Or in this case, his ability to merge with the hero’s shadow. Legend stepped back quickly as soon as he realized what had happened, but of course, his shadow followed.

Wolfie snarled, but heard an indignant yelp as Wind was disarmed by a stalfos a few feet away from them. He sprinted to the boy’s rescue, clamping his teeth down hard on the culprit’s neck as Wind hurried to retrieve his blade.

Warriors barely glanced at them as this was happening, but in the split second that he was distracted he heard another cry--this time coming from none other than Legend. The captain watched in horror as vines of a black something crawled up the vet’s body, coming from-- coming from his shadow.

“LEDGE!” Wars ran forward, not really having a plan but knowing he had to reach their veteran. The other heroes were shouting behind him, and he heard the thud of boots running in his direction, but he ignored it.

“I’m fine,” Legend bit out, then grabbed one of his legs and yanked. “I just can’t move.”

Warriors wrapped his arms around Legend’s torso and pulled. No luck.

The black grew steadily, now climbing up his waist. This was not good. 

Suddenly, Sky was there. “I have an idea,” he said, looking to Wars.

“Well, let’s hear it,” the captain replied, voice clipped. “Doesn’t look like we have much time here.”

Sky nodded, then held up the Master Sword. Sacred light climbed the blade, preparing it for a Skyward Strike.

“Oh, none of that, please,” came the disembodied voice of Dark Link. “If you’re going to be so rude, I think I’d best take my leave.”

Legend inhaled sharply as the black vines grew higher with increased speed, beginning to cover him—

“NO!” Without a second thought, Warriors lunged to grab ahold of his friend, unsure of what this strange magic would do and not really wanting to find out.

His fingers barely grazed Legend’s shoulder when there was a sudden flash of light, and he was no longer in the middle of a battlefield. His stomach grew nauseous and he was light-headed, and before he knew it he was keeling over and everything hurt and something felt wrong and—

Warriors’ eyes peeled open, and he blinked a few times. He immediately noticed two things: one, they were in a very dark and ominous prison cell, and two, Legend, who was slumped on the ground next to him, wasn’t moving.

Great. Just great. This was wonderful.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[jojosgaylittleadventure]

This is the fourth fic in my Josuyaus series that takes place while they're still in high school You can find my series here I also have a master post of all my Josuyasu writing here

Summary: After a study session gone wrong, Josuke finds himself needing somewhere he can feel safe and at home and that some where turns out to be Okuyasu. Tags: Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, the following tags are not from/between the ship (just an fyi), Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Side Character/Main Character Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Victim Blaming

[coffeecat1983]

On Ao3

My longest piece now has a few mini sequels, so I decided to collect them here.

Mario Bros: Thanks for Everything Expanded edition (Rated 'T')

In an alternate timeline to my other Mario works, thirteen years have passed since the events of the movie. Mario is now a father and king, Luigi an ambassador to the other kingdoms. Life in the kingdoms and back in Brooklyn is peaceful, but when the brain tumor from thirteen years ago returns and will take Tony's life, everyone realizes just how much one person has impacted their lives.

Mario Bros: 'One Week Later' (rated 'M')

Arthur deals with Tony's passing in the only way he can think of, and the end result forces Giovanni to confront his youngest brother. Please note the trigger warnings in the tags!

Mario Bros: "Don't shut me out." (Rated G)

Two months after the events of Mario Bros: Thanks for Everything Expanded edition, Luigi begins to withdraw from his family and Mario enlists some help to find out what's going on.

[aetherose]

To Dearest Nim

—The recollections of the ethereal sorceress

Spoilers for all of Baldur's Gate 3 and the Dark Urge storyline

She knew from the start the ending that her road would lead her to.

To resist her nature, these wretched urges that tried so hard to control her...somehow, a part of her always knew something like her was doomed from the beginning.

At first, perhaps it was a mere hope. A hope to be released from these shackles her urges were, even if the release was death. She was a danger to all around her, and she believed salvation wasn't something she deserved, let alone possible. What she deserved, and what was more realistic to occur, was oblivion.

But it became clearer that her hopes weren't merely that, but perhaps shreds of her past memories tugging at her fractured mind and reminding her, even if only vaguely, of what she was, of the truth of her life.

A Bhaalspawn.

A pure-blooded Bhaalspawn with urges far more horrific and intense than any other whom preceded her.

An imitation of an elf predestined to either follow her father's wishes and paint the world red with the blood of its inhabitants...

Or to reject her father, and pay the ultimate price; her life.

A price her past self wasn't strong enough to pay, after killing every person dear to her, after suffering these urges since childhood.

She was tired of rejecting her true nature back then, and found a home amongst the Temple of Bhaal. Sceleritas was like another father to her and was fiercely loyal even when she may have done horrific things to him.

It certainly did help he never stayed dead when she killed him.

Meeting Gortash led her to have a companion who accepted her for all that she was, her urges and all. As long as she could control herself when necessary, of course, and at that time, she was able to, because she indulged in it otherwise regularly.

To be accepted and have a true home in such a way...

That was all she ever really wanted.

But she'd never admit back then she wasn't truly happy.

Or perhaps she simply couldn't realize it through the haze of pride, insanity, ambition, and supposed joy she felt.

But her Orin-induced amnesia gave her another chance. Her personality shifted, and she became able to have a new start, even if it came with the caveat of having an illithid tadpole in her head.

At first, she didn't truly feel too bad about her urges or when she did something that was thought of as 'bad'.

She didn't fully understand the notion, and her urges were something she wished to disobey out of fear and spite. Fear of being abandoned and controlled, and spite for these rancid thoughts in her mind that compelled her to do things she didn't really want to do.

But her companions...changed her. From the first moment, she became attached because she had nothing else, and their views let her learn and grow.

And then, Alfira's death put it all into perspective.

Remorse weighed on her heart, alongside the true reality of Nimue's godsforsaken urges.

As time went on, she continued to change, as everything kept spiraling on her and her companions' journey to be cured of their parasites. She grew more...approachable. She found she was able to smile more and more. She began to loosen up, joking around and teasing more.

She still remained fairly mild-mannered and distant, but her companions still changed her.

But what didn't change was her fear of being abandoned by them, and therefore, her fear of her urges being discovered.

So she hid them until she couldn't anymore.

She refused to kill Isobel.

And then she was forced to try to murder the companion closest to her.

She thought she'd be killed immediately. It's what she deserved. What she secretly hoped for.

But that wasn't what happened.

Instead, she was...accepted as word spread across camp of what happened. She was shocked, overjoyed, confused, terrified, so much all at once. But in the end, she was accepted.

That was the first time anyone saw her cry.

And they wouldn't see her do so again until after reaching Wyrm's Rock, and discovering she was behind the entire mess with the Cult of the Absolute, formerly working with Ketheric and Gortash to take over this world.

And to top it all off, it coincided with her vision of Orin and her remembrance of her nature as a Bhaalspawn.

It all made sense now, and all she wanted was to throw herself off a cliff.

She didn't deserve to lead her companions. She didn't deserve to even be alive. She was just a monster who hid underneath the skin of a beautiful High Elf woman.

All of this was her fault. She hurt her companions in such an unfathomably large way, by being responsible for this oncoming catastrophe.

She normally hated being in the spotlight, the center of attention. But now, she couldn't stand that several of her companions couldn't even look at her. Somehow, being looked at with disdain was more bearable than that. She broke down crying, and ran off to hide from them all.

How ironic. Did the gods think this was funny? Did they think it was amusing, to let her be born and continue living a life drenched in so many sins, then proceed to make her lose her memory and come to realize the atrocities she'd committed in the past?

She didn't think it was funny. Not at all.

But...in time, they came to accept her again. She was so close to finally begging Jaheira to end her misery that day, but...in the end, they recognized she had no idea of this just the same as them.

She wasn't the same person that created this crisis anymore. She'd forgotten it all and changed. Even if fragments of memories were returning, they didn't feel quite hers anymore.

She almost broke down crying again, but simply hugged them all in gratefulness.

As she helped her companions tie up loose ends and progress was made towards obtaining all of the Netherstones as fast as possible, it was soon the day before her ragtag group of misfits was to head to Orin and return their stolen companion home.

She knew she would die tomorrow.

Yet, she strangely felt...

Serene.

At peace.

She stayed awake as her companions slept around her, and she simply walked around and gazed upon their sleeping faces with a look of fondness.

Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, and Karlach. They'd been with her since the beginning, and they were especially precious to her for that.

Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc. They were newer additions, but ones she still cherished.

Scratch and the Owlbear Cub. She never accepted them being called pets; they were her friends, her companions, just as much as everyone else.

Alfira. She never got to adventure with them properly, but Nimue still kept Lihala's lute with her, and considered her an honorary member of their group, even after her death.

It wouldn't be long before Nimue would join Alfira in the afterlife, and she'd apologize to her properly then.

She felt Scratch's eyes on her as she turned back to return to her bed. She gave him a pet, alongside the Owlbear Cub who slept beside him, and whispered softly, with a mixture of fondness and sadness, "I'll always be here for you two in spirit. Live on the best you can."

Her only regret...

Was that she wouldn't be able to witness her companions continue to endeavor to the very end.

For the first night in a very long time, she slept peacefully...

Knowing it would all be over soon.

At last, the end of her long, arduous journey arrived, as she was finally face-to-face with her father, the God of Murder himself, Bhaal, after killing her very own 'bloodkin', Orin.

Some part of her felt bad for Orin, she had to admit. Orin...never had another chance like Nimue did. Never had companions who could lead her down a different path. Or amnesia. Ironically, Nimue owed her for giving her this chance.

And some part of her had to wonder...

If their roles were reversed, would things have turned out the same way?

But...there was no time to contemplate it.

For at the finale, there was a choice to be made.

To be a god's puppet and destroy this world in Bhaal's name...

Or to die, finally being able to rest, and saving the world from herself?

It wasn't even a question. It was a choice she'd long anticipated. And she had already decided her answer every time she pondered it.

'I will die for their sake. I will die to be free. It's what I deserve.'

And so, she refused her father's gift. Refused to return to her role as his Chosen. She chose to defy a god, knowing what the consequences will be.

"Your life is mine. Accept your inheritance, or I will reclaim it."

Her last chance to reconsider; but even knowing that, she didn't falter. She merely took a deep breath, and she turned back to her companions with a sad smile.

"...I'm sorry. And I...love you all."

And she turned back to her father, accepting her fate with a smile, ignoring her companions' voices filled with concern at her words.

'Let me be free. Let me rest.'

"...Then reclaim it."

Even through the pain of every drop of her blood being drained from her body, she continued to smile, and one final thought crossed her mind...

'Farewell, my dearest friends. Thank you...for everything. May we meet again...in another life.'

And all became black.

[nympippi]

Laying in bed and then all of a sudden my nose starts bleeding, I looked like horror movie ghost or something. It was awesome I should’ve gotten a picture (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)

An artist rendition of what my bathroom mirror saw at 11:20 at night. Trigger warming blood btw!

[dropofbittersea]

When the police uncover a hidden sub-basement in the home of criminal Alexander Pierce and find a tortured omega and his three pups, they bring them to the Stark Omega Clinic, a non-profit dedicated to rehabilitating traumatized omegas.

After dark in September 2005, fourteen year old Bucky Barnes vanished. Eleven years and three pups later, he is far from the boy that went missing from a suburban neighborhood outside of Denver.

Steve Rogers is an alpha of some means. When he came into money, he decided to use what he had for good and sign up as a candidate to be a support alpha for his close friend Tony's charitable clinic. When he takes on the task of helping reintegrate Bucky and his pups into the world, he doesn't expect to fall so hard.

[priestbit]

                                  [ ˑ ˑ ˑ ] 𝑫𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑰𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑺 & 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀 , a comprehensive study.

This meta will discuss Donnie's relationship with his actual family members and his relationship with family as a concept. Here I'll be exploring how his attitude towards it has shifted and changed throughout his life. I will be touching on some fairly triggering topics in this meta, all of which have been tagged and listed below. For that reason, this meta is under a read more. Please take care when reading, and don't worry if you aren't in the headspace to read this, there's no hard feelings.

Please be aware that the following topics will be discussed, some in greater detail than others: addiction, child neglect/abuse, allusions to csa, religious trauma, homophobia, pregnancy, addiction, drug use, alcoholism, family death, suicide, trauma, and discussions of war.

Donnie, despite all the misconceptions one may have of him, is motivated by family and legacy. It haunts him in a way that nobody talks about. Every man in the Watts family tree, as far back as they can trace being in the States, has served the military in one way or the other. Every man in the Watts family, since the end of the Civil War, has owned and trained horses for one purpose or the other. They may not have been in that profession their entire lives, but they all started there. Donnie did. His father did. His brother did. You get the idea. This is part of the reason why Donnie always felt so conflicted about what he'd do once he'd graduated high school. Would he continue the family legacy and enlist like his father had? Would he follow in his brother's footsteps and look to make a name for himself as a rancher? Or would he follow his heart and become a rockstar?

Ultimately, Donnie decided to follow his heart. He's always had something to prove, his mother made sure of that. He was going to make his family (and to him, at the age of nineteen, his family consisted of his brother, his sister-in-law, his niece, and his nephew) proud. He was going to do something that would, in his eyes, make him worthy of their love. Achieving his dreams would also show them how good of a job they did in taking him in, as he always feels as though he owes them for that (even though they volunteered to do it, and were happy to help out their little brother. Brody especially, as he carries so much guilt for leaving Donnie alone with their mother in the first place.)

I think that, as a child, Donnie based his notion of family off of what his mother told him. His idea of what a family should be was very much in line with the nuclear family, a mother, a father, the white picket fence, and two children. The idea of it was hammered into his head so often-and so brutally-that he felt othered by the fact that he was being raised by a single mother. This othering led to him resenting the very idea of the family home. He hated it whenever his mother would try to engage in things like family dinner at the dining table. Or dragging him to church every Sunday because that's what families were supposed to do.

When he was taken away from his mother at the age of twelve, he was introduced to what an actual, healthy family unit looked like. Brody Watts had gotten away from Texas and made a damn good life for himself. He had two beautiful kids, a wife who adored him, and Dogwood Ranch in his care. Spending his teen years with Brody and Cassidy helped heal a lot of childhood wounds, so much so that by the time his eighteenth birthday rolls around and his mother contacts him for the final guilt trip he'll ever receive from her all he can do is feel hatred for her. Hatred for her and love for the brother who'd taken him in, love for the sister-in-law who had become the older sister he'd always wanted, and love for the kids who called him 'Uncle D!' whenever they saw him. He wanted that. He wanted a home like theirs, warm and welcoming and the total opposite of the crucifix-infested battlefield that his mother had raised him in.

His early twenties were rough. Addled by fame he was not prepared for, and an addiction to anything that takes him skywards for a couple of hours. Heroin was the real killer. He overdosed twice, and was saved twice by a family he didn't share a single drop of blood with. Rancid Creature wasn't just a successful metal band, Rancid Creature was Donnie's entire world, and a love letter to the dear friend he'd lost in Lee Bennett (who had conceptualised the band when they were thirteen and still fumbling their way through learning how to play their instruments. Lee played bass, Donnie was the drummer. The dream rhythm section.) Izzy, Sammy and Clara were, and still are, like siblings to Donnie. He would drop anything to help them... he knew it wasn't the conventional family, but it was his. It was the only one he could have around all the touring and the TV interviews anyway.

Family wasn't just a loving partner and a couple of kids running around to Donnie anymore. But it's the prospect of a family that ultimately pushed him into getting clean. Anita Huerta, a long-term on and off girlfriend, revealed that she was pregnant, and that she wanted to keep the baby. She wanted to get clean for the baby, and so did Donnie. He'd swore years before that he'd never abandon his children, he'd never subject them to his bullshit the same way his mother had. Donnie, wanting nothing more than to cultivate a warm, safe, family environment for his and Anita's child, got clean.

Now that he's in his early thirties, he knows that he doesn't need to have the conventional nuclear family to be happy. A happy family home doesn't look the same for everyone, and despite the fact that he's always stressing over being as good a dad to Emma as possible, he knows this. Family is whoever you feel safe with, family is whoever helps when you're at your worst, family isn't just blood. Donnie took a long time coming to this conclusion, and he still struggles with undoing the mess his mother made of his brain, but he's there. And he doesn't intend on backing away from it anytime soon.

For some quick-fire headcanons about Donnie's family members and his relationships with those family members, look no further!

𝑅𝐸: 𝑀𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑆𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Willa Fitzgerald & Mary Mcdonnell. )

Melissa Rose was the youngest of five daughters. Her father detested the fact that his wife would only ever give him daughters when what he really wanted was sons. This made him angry, abusive, unfaithful, and a drunkard. Her father, Adam, was a Baptist pastor. His sermons were the very definition of 'Brimstone and Hellfire.' He was a stern but charming man, with an agreeable face and the picture-perfect family. He was all about image, and this attitude would stick with Melissa all her life.

She actually wanted to run away from Texas her whole life, she had dreams of becoming a Hollywood star. She was always told that she was pretty enough to be in the movies.

Melissa married Colton Watts on a total whim, their romance was an intense whirlwind of emotions and intimacy. She'd never been treated so kindly by a man before Colton came along. He promised her the world. And then he went to war.

When Colton returned home, he was a totally different man. He was emptier than she remembered him, and she was resentful. He would have weeks, even months, of being the happy-go-lucky sweetheart she'd married. Then he'd retreat into himself and would prefer to speak to the horses he cared for than he would to her.

Eleven years of unsteady marriage later, Brody Watts was born. The euphoria of being a new parent didn't last long, Colton would soon retreat back into the stables. The same would happen ten years later when Donovan was born.

After Colton's death, and after Brody ran away from his mother's venomous tongue, Melissa was left alone to raise her youngest son. She never called him Donnie, she would only ever call him Donovan.

Donnie, as a toddler, would actually prefer the company of his mother. He enjoyed being bounced on her hip while she went about the household chores. He enjoyed listening to her read. He found his father to be something of a ghost. However, he did run and hide under Brody's bed whenever she'd get into one of her bad moods. She was vicious, a caged animal unleashed on her family.

When Colton died, Donnie was seven. And Melissa fell hard into heavy drinking. Her fuse grew shorter, and even the smallest of mistakes made by Donnie would set her off. If he cried? She'd shout. If he spilt or dropped something? She'd shout. Without even realising it, Melissa had become her father.

Donnie grew older, more vocal, and pushed back against Melissa's temper. He was rewarded with violence, with unwarranted sermons. She would punish him by making him copy entire verses from the Bible by hand. She would take scissors to his hair whenever he refused to go and get it cut. Donnie's defensive, and often explosive temper, was born here. As was his desire to solve everything with his fists.

Melissa didn't hide what she thought of her son from him. She thought he was gay, and would tell him so. She would often fling slurs at him. She thought he was a sinful child, a demon given to her as punishment for running away from her family with his father. She would tell him this too.

She would also blame him routinely for his father's death. Something that Donnie still hasn't been able to shake.

Donnie was sent to a "summer camp" that the local church ran by his mother to "fix" his behaviour. The children would learn to camp, would learn to work, and would learn to be "more Christian" in their attitudes. It was essentially a behaviour retreat for delinquent kids. It was here that one of the pastors would assault Donnie.

The second he returned home, Donnie bypassed telling his mother anything and took himself straight to the local sheriff's station. He told them everything about the pastor, and about his mother. The sheriff was an old army friend of Colton's and had suspected that something was amiss for years. He was the one who saw to it that the social services took Donnie away from Melissa.

Donnie hasn't seen his mother since, and he hasn't heard from her since his eighteenth birthday. He doesn't even know if she's still alive or not, he hasn't thought to check. He's glad to have cut her out of his life, even if there has always been a longing in him to try and get through to her. Sometimes he misses her reading to him as a child, sometimes he misses her embrace. Sometimes he just wants his mom.

He only ever refers to her as 'mother' or 'Melissa.' Only in really vulnerable moments does he ever slip up and call her 'mom.'

A lot of Donnie's self-loathing stems from the way his mother treated him. A lot of Donnie's internal homophobia stems from his mother. A lot of Donnie's issues with his own masculinity stem from his mother. All of his issues with religion and the idea of a benevolent god stem from his mother's attitudes and the fact that she sent him away to that "summer camp." He's slowly coming to terms with this and feels so much resentment towards her for it that whenever she's mentioned he tends to get stiff and oddly quiet. It takes him a long time to learn to talk about her without feeling angry, and he does so for Emma's sake.

Donnie looks most like his mother, with her soft features, curly hair, and pretty green eyes. It's why he'd always take great offence to anybody ever calling him a girl when he was a teenager.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝑇𝑂𝑁 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Robert Redford. )

Colton was the middle child out of three. His older brother, Tristan, died in France, and his youngest brother, Michael, moved to Europe in the summer of forty-seven. His parents owned Dogwood Ranch, as many Watts had before them. It was the ancestral home of the Watts family.

He was raised Catholic, as many are in Longing.

He moved to Texas with his older brother to pursue a Rodeo career. Colton was a promising young Bronc rider and adored working with horses more than anything else. He also enjoyed playing guitar and singing. Music was always going to be a huge part of Donnie's life.

It was there he met Melissa Rose, who looked as though she'd just wandered off of a movie set. Colton was smitten with her, and she was smitten with him. They were young and reckless and felt invincible, and Colton wanted to give Melissa the world. They were married within six months, and, with Tristain's help, living on a plot of land in Copeville within the year.

Then he enlisted and went to war. Colton took his guitar with him to France and would sing for his fellow soldiers whenever he was able. He kept them entertained and happy despite the horrors they saw. He burned his candle at both ends and returned with bullet holes in his guitar, and holes in his heart.

He tried to fight the numbness with all his might. He tried to be present for his sons, but he'd often find himself feeling the chill of The Bulge even in the height of a Texan summer and would slip into his own mind for hours at a time.

To cope, Colton hid himself away in the shed or the stables, fearing what he might do if he was around his family for any longer than a few hours at a time. He could not trust his own body or mind.

As a result, his sons often saw him as a stranger. He tried to make up for it by teaching them guitar chords, showing them how to handle horses, or singing with them. He felt especially close to Donnie, who seemed to take better to his musical inclinations than Brody did. Brody seemed more interested in horses.

Donnie recalls several key moments with his father. Being taught to play the guitar, how to handle a gun, how to ride, how to be a Bronc rider, and being taken to Dallas when his father was due to meet with old war buddies.

Whenever talking about his father, Donnie often calls him his 'old man.' He seems to talk about him with far more respect than he ever does with his mother, despite feeling like he hardly knew him. Donnie also feels an affinity with his father now that he's an adult, especially since he's been through trauma and had to deal with the aftermath.

Donnie still owns his father's guitar, it's easily his most prized possession. He owned a silver signet ring with a cursive 'W' on it that his dad took with him to France and gave to Donnie for good luck. The ring had been in the Watts family for as long as anybody can remember. Donnie gives it to James Gallowes for good luck and as a symbol of his love for him.

In terms of appearance, Donnie takes after Colton's physical build. Looking at photographs of the two of them where their faces aren't visible, you could be forgiven for thinking it's the same person. Donnie also has his father's toothy smile and, according to Brody, Donnie's voice is freakishly similar to their dad's.

Donnie used to resent the fact that Colton put a bullet in his own mouth. It sent Brody away because it made Melissa worse.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Charlie Hunnam. )

Brody is ten years older than Donnie. Has their mother's softer face shape like Donnie does, but the rest of his face is all Colton. Right down to the scruffy blond beard and pin-straight hair. Brody's whole demeanour is gruff, but kind. He's quick to smile and far more optimistic than his younger brother.

When they were kids, Brody would jokingly refer to Donnie as Yosemite Sam from Looney Tunes whenever Donnie lost his temper. It's why Donnie has a Yosemite Sam tattoo on his arm.

Brody always stepped in and took Donnie away from their mother whenever her temper would flare, and would play with him or read to him to keep him occupied. Sometimes he'd take Donnie up to the stables to look after the horses with him. In that way, Brody was more a parent to Donnie than their actual parents were.

At first, Donnie was confused when Brody took off after Colton's death. Then his mother got worse, and then he got angry at him for abandoning him with their mother. He was so angry that a month into being put into Brody and Cassidy's care, the two had a fight that almost came to blows. It didn't, because Brody outright refused to hurt Donnie anymore than he'd already been hurt. This made Donnie break down and cry. Brody held him and the two spoke about things more calmly.

This blowout didn't diffuse Donnie's resentment entirely, but it helped Donnie understand his brother's reasons for leaving.

The ten-year gap between the two meant that talking as brothers was often difficult for them. But Brody always did his best to be patient with Donnie, to be careful around his trauma and what might set him off. He would also cut through Donnie's moping and ensure that he wasn't self-sabotaging.

Brody also gives full embarrassing dad energy whenever Donnie's got friends over. He endearingly refers to Donnie, Lee and James as 'The Three Stooges.' James would also often find himself staying over at Dogwood Ranch after Donnie discovers that his uncle is mistreating him. Brody allows it because he really wants to encourage Donnie to be more emotionally vulnerable and have more friends.

Donnie and Brody love each other fiercely and will jump to one another's defence without question, even if they find it hard to have deep discussions without the help of a few beers.

Donnie hates disappointing Brody (and by extension, Cassidy), and so doesn't reach out to him for help when he should. He often needs pushing into contacting Brody by his bandmates whenever something's going wrong or he's struggling with Emma on his own.

Donnie's object permeance (yay ADHD!) extends to people. This means, that if things aren't in his immediate everyday life, he tends to neglect them. This makes him terrible at calling Brody and keeping in touch, thankfully, both Brody and Cassidy understand this and will often check in with him of their own volition.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐶𝐴𝑆𝑆𝐼𝐷𝑌 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fc : Freema Agyeman. )

Cassidy Jonas met Brody Watts and immediately fell in love. They bonded over a love of horses, rock music, and spicy food. They just clicked. Their friendship turned into love and ended with them married at the age of twenty-one. It was the most natural thing in the world.

Cassidy Watts was pregnant with twins when Donnie Watts crossed the threshold of Dogwood for the first time. He reminded her of her grandmother's three-legged cat, Nelson, who used to swipe at newcomers whenever they entered whichever room he happened to be sleeping in. He was jittery and jumped at every little noise. It broke her heart to learn what had happened to him, it made her angry too. Brody had to talk her out of driving to Copeville and giving Melissa Watts a piece of her mind. She couldn't conceive of ever hurting her children.

At first, Cassidy attempted to approach Donnie with kid gloves. That seemed to send him further into his shell. What seemed to appeal to him was being spoken to like an adult. A person in his own right. So she did. Because of the honesty between them, Donnie and Cassidy grew close.

Donnie had the messiest, most unhealthy head of curls when he came to Longing, and not a few months later, Cassidy had them styled and healthier than ever. Being a black woman with tight, coiled hair, she was perfectly qualified to help Donnie treat his curls properly. It was a long, careful routine that Donnie keeps to even now in his early thirties.

After the twins were born, Donnie took to being an uncle like a duck to water. He helped Cassidy with feeding them whenever Brody was out working, and would often keep them entertained when he wasn't out causing mischief with his new friends.

When Donnie's fifteen, Cassidy started to attend classes in hopes of becoming a Doctor or a Nurse, as she'd always dreamed of becoming one as a child.

If asked, Donnie would name Cassidy as the woman who raised him. She was the one who helped him out of panic attacks and soothed him whenever he couldn't sleep, she was the one who talked to him about his romantic feelings for James, she was the one who encouraged him to follow his heart after he graduated. She was also the person who put him in his place whenever he was letting his anger get the better of him.

Donnie almost exclusively calls Cassidy 'Cass', and it's always with the utmost affection. He adores her with his entire being.

Cassidy is also the first person Donnie comes out to, officially. She's the person he turns to whenever he finds himself stuck. He knows she won't judge him or think less of him for messing up. Neither would Brody, but Donnie isn't so confident with that knowledge. He's getting there.

𝑅𝐸: 𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐴 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐻 𝑊𝐴𝑇𝑇𝑆 ( fcs : undecided. )

Georgina and Jonah Watts are fraternal twins and are the only two children of Brody and Cassidy Watts. Donnie views the pair of them as his younger siblings.

The twins refer to Donnie as 'Don' or 'Uncle D' pretty much exclusively.

Gina falls in love with rock music because of her parents and falls deeper in love with metal and alternative music because of Donnie. Donnie often catches her rifling through his tapes when he's not keeping an eye on her. When he leaves Longing, he actually leaves the vast majority of his tapes and vinyl at Dogwood, so that Gina can listen to them. Gina also gifts Donnie with an Iron Maiden poster on his fourteenth birthday, Cassidy informs him that she wanted to give her uncle a present that meant a lot to him. He still has the poster now, it's in a frame on the wall of his office.

Jonah and Donnie bond over horses. Brody held no interest in actually participating in any kind of Rodeo events, and neither did Donnie, but Donnie knew a couple of tricks to help Jonah get started. He showed him how to ride and how to tend to the horses alongside Brody. Jonah also shares Donnie's love of Star Wars and sci-fi. He even starts to copy Donnie when Donnie starts keeping journals and writing things like song lyrics down. Jonah's got a big imagination and an even bigger heart. Donnie encourages him to feel things unapologetically and to talk to his parents when things are bothering him. When he leaves Dogwood, Donnie leaves a good chunk of his books with Jonah, knowing he'll take care of them.

Donnie misses a good chunk of the twins' milestones while he's touring with Rancid Creature, but that doesn't stop them from sending him letters and getting excited whenever he calls. He feels guilty for not being there more for them during this time, and he's always trying to make up for it, even though they hold no hard feelings over it.

Donnie also misses these milestones because he's too high, which he feels deeply ashamed of, despite the understanding he gets from Brody, Cass and the twins.

He might be terrible at calling, but Donnie has an uncanny ability to remember dates, even when he's deep in the throes of addiction and depression. He always sends thoughtful gifts and birthday cards/letters to his niece and nephew. He dedicates more than a couple of songs and awards for his music to them and their parents.

He's their favourite uncle, despite being their only uncle. And they will die defending him. They even show up to one of Rancid Creature's shows in Santa Fe to surprise him one year, and Donnie almost cries with happiness at seeing them. That's his little sister and his little brother! And he will die for them!

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

do you have any more details about the 'it was all a dream' au? the premise is so cool!

Ok so schrodeinger reality au, gonna be real this au has almost nothing but vibes (and heavily inspired by Madoka: Rebellion, Piecemeal episode and the Stranger entity from tma and this comic)~

tw none of it is explicit but it is better to be safe- mention of suicide attempt by poison (skip from "Her mother asks if she's ok" to next para)

mentions of gore (skip from "Ghosts start to solidify" to next para and "This was the worst condition" to next para)

mention of car crash (it is one line but still),

mention of death (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para)

mention of a serial killer (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para) ,

mention of violent murders (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para),

mention of mutilation (skip from "This was the worst condition" to next para)

So basically right after Allura saves the multiverse, she wakes up in a room, in a bed, with things that arent her own but also feel really familiar. She also wakes up to find her hair is brown rather than white, her marks are gone (whammy), and her ears are round (double whammy), and she's a human (what the qUIZNAK). Like naturally she's freaking out right until the door opens and that is her mother, or well her human mother. She doesnt look anything like Melenor, her real mother, and yet she knows that the human woman was her mother.

Allura runs out of her room and the house isnt her own but also is, she remembers drawings on the wall she did as a kid, she remembers tripping on those stairs while running as a teen, she remembers when those photos on the wall were taken few months ago. She remembers this house she is in right now, she remembers a life she never lived. Her mother asks if she's ok. Her mother has been so worried since she.....almost killed herself. A simple quick acting poison, something painless. Mom found her in time and took her to the hospital. That is what the memory tells her.

Except, no she didnt, but she did. This isnt her life and that is not mother, except it is and she is her mom. This isnt real none of this is real. Both memories feel as real as the other. Her mom asks if she is ok again. She want to push her away, she's clearly a liar. She want to hug her, she is scared and wants her mom to tell her she's going to be ok. She can just nod in reply, both her pasts feeling more like a dream than a memory. She yearns for the life that is gone in every way, she wants to reject the new life that is gifted not lived. However the sense of loss is ever present.

As far as Shiro is concerned he has lived a pretty normal decent life. Ups and downs like everyone has. He achieved his dreams of going to space and it was good while it lasted. He survived an accident that took his arm and left him with scars. Awful thing car crashes, even if he doesnt really remember it and it Certainly doesnt matter. Had few relationships, few break ups, moments of joy and sorrow in equal amounts, cant really complain. His brother was there for it all, and even if Kuro loves to annoy him that is what brothers are for. All in all rather normal life. Except, one day he had a nightmare, with furry alien colonizers and alien witches and gladiator rings and giant robot lions. Non sensical and pointless he chooses to not think about it, suppresses it everytime it threatens come up. Except they keep coming, during his days and during his nights and he buries them deep every time. And they keep getting worse every time.

Until one day, there was a ghost, ghost that looked just like him, gored and bleeding just blankly staring at him. At first he thought it was Kuro, but when Shiro yelled out for him in horror, he pops out from wherever he was and walked past through that ghost. Little horrified, he decided to suppress this too, maybe stress or maybe a prank or maybe something else completely mundane. He never looks at the ghost, refuses to acknowledge its existence. Ghost disappears and appears seemingly randomly, (everytime he suppresses a memo- thoughts about his nightmares). Ignores it, doesnt acknowledge it, suppresses it, buries it within. The more he does it, the more they present, the more they stay at the back of his mind.

But then ghosts starts to solidify. First as bloody fingers, then as bloody hands, slowly slowly. The body part stayed, always bleeding, they are not seen but they are felt. Kuro almost slips on an unseen pool of blood, complains about the floor not looking wet. Shiro buries them too, in his flowerpots and flowerbeds and in backyard six feet under and when the body fully forms.

The ghost stop appearing after that, but he still doesnt feel free, he finds himself staring at a certain spot, still feels like the smell of blood lingers. Sometimes he could almost hear a heartbeat where the body is buried. But no, this never happened! Just like all those nightmares never happened, this never happened. Acknowleding it, even as some sort of hallucination makes it real, makes everything real, so it never happened. So what if his scars dont fit for a car crash, so what if his memory is spotty. Coincidences really, followed by a stressed mind and it's overactive imagination. Kuro worries but that is what a brother is for.

And as far as Shiro is concerned, he lives a pretty normal decent life.

This was the worst condition, Doctor Jaspreet Kaur had ever seen. Granted her tenure is not that old, only been a few years since she was a doctor, but this still had to be worse. A man, a young one, maybe in 20's skinned alive. Most definately a murder attempt. A serial killer has been in the news lately and her new patient shares the same condition the killer's victims when found. No identifying features, whether it be identity proof, tags on clothes, tattoos, skin marks or face itself. This time however, by some miracle, despite everything he was still alive.

So she and the other doctors trt everything they could to save this nameless person. He would have to stay in intensive care, will go through multiple surgeries and if he lives through all of that the damages would still be lifelong. But they still have to save him. So they try, they succeed in stopping the bleeding and stabilize him. They got in touch with the police, who took the statement for the new lead, hoped he survives so they could arrest the killer but didnt seem to care about his identity. Now it is a waiting game.

Few days later as she was making her rounds, she saw the Patient, and not only was he sitting up and moving, he was actively ripping off all his bandages. Jas ran in to stop him, but then stopped.

The Patient's skin had grown back. Light brown, as dark as hers, black hair, and freckles clear visible unlike hers which were always hidden under a ton of makeup. And when Jas looked at him she realized somethings. The patient looked familiar but in a way she cant quite put a finger on. Most likely Indian descent, american accent but hint of punjabi, 5'7, a bit chubby. The patient reminded her of her sister, and her brother, and her mother, and her father, and her grandparentss, slightly like all of them but not them. She also noticed the mirror in the patient's room was cracked, right from the point where the patient's reflected head would be.

The patient then turns to her and asks her questions, who are you? what place is this? What happened to me? And Jaspreet answers the best she can, i am Dr Jaspreet, we are in the State Hospital, you were brutally attacked but you are ok now. And then Jaspreet asks her own questions, do you know who you are? Do you have someone to call? Do you know who did this to you? And the patient- he? They? she? She. She just shook her head no, no she didnt know who she was, only what she is now. No she didnt remember anyone and doubted anyone remembered her. She did not know who did this, but she will find her killer.

Jaspreet wanted to ask what she meant by that. But the Patient stood up, something she shouldnt have been able to, not with injuries or with pain meds. Too dumbfounded to even react, all she can do is watch, as the Patient thanks her, asks where the hospital keeps patients things, and then left.

The Patient was already gone when she even thought to react. But that is ok! She'll just call and ask and staff security to stop the Patient. She even has a description, it is uhhh ummm she cant remember. She cant remember how the Patient looked like. And wait- was the Patient a guy in his 20's? Or a woman in her 30's? No, no neither, maybe something in between? Doesnt matter. She called the reception, told them the Patient from the room number 3462 would be making his way to the reception, and to please stop h-sh-them? As they required further observation. And the receptionist said that that particular hasnt been assigned in days. That cant be right? It was for the patient who almost uhhh died? And needed care for-for something? She would have to check the logs later. But no, the receptionist cant remember any such patient. And Jaspreet cant remember it well either.

Days later Jaspreet would read the news that the serial killer has finally been arrested, evidence compiled by an anonymous sleuth. Jaspreet is glad that the serial killer was arrested but also felt that she should be more.......interested in this case? Like she knew something about this case but doesnt really but cant tell you why. But well she guesses that is it than, if it was memorable than she would have remembered.

[m1smatched-starsigns]

Have any warrior cats fanfic recommendations?

I sure do! And always feel free to send me fic recs as well!

also knows how to slander, by Consumptive_Sphinx

ashes, by @mallowstep

bend the definition of faith, by @solacefruit

Burn Up the Light, by Lorwell

Choices, by Jeffrey Dahmer

dog days, by @goosewhisker

Fire and Water: Book One, by @warriorsfireandwater

i'll come back to you someday soon myself, by @mallowstep

Incogitance, by Kiwikirk

in the name of all things good and holy, by @creed-of-cats

i’ve met the myth hanging over you, by @kudossi

Meteor Shower, by Storm that Twists in Spiral

prayers to medea, by @creed-of-cats

The Challenge, by Jeffrey Dahmer

Thorns, by aer-of-ice

turn to dust all that I adore, by @solacefruit

Ringing Bell, by Hissing Willows

Snatched: The Story of Snowkit, by Prin Pardus

Snowmelt, by @kudossi

Under the Storm Soaked Sky, by Silentwinds