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spideyjimin · 15 days ago

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Bloodlines entwined: II | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 6,210

— warnings: mentions of grief, death, abortion, murder, breakup, and heartbreak, nervousness, and strong language

— author’s note: soooo this second chapter is basically the base for all the upcoming chapters. you’ll that it implements many important points, and i’m actually very excited to see your reactions 😬 it wasn’t an easy one to write as i couldn’t reveal everything straight away. hope you’ll like it & thanks a lot for your support on this series 🫶🏼

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Chapter II: hearts in conflict

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook paces back and forth in his living room.

Since he was informed of the clinic’s mistake, he’s been torn apart between his duty and his heart. He’s been desiring to become a father for a while now, and he’s been more desperate since he became a king.

Having a child is also part of his responsibility since he needs to ensure his bloodline. Consequently, he needs to have a child with a pure werewolf. The clinic had a list of the eggs they could use. It was simple.

Now, a human was fertilized by his material, and there’s a hybrid child on the way. As a king and a werewolf, he can’t have this child. Hybrids can’t exist; it’s the rule. Nobody will ever take him seriously if their king doesn’t even respect the rules.

His eyes then fall on a family picture. That picture was taken five years ago, when his father was still alive. Even if he passed away two years ago, it’s still extremely hard for Jungkook to deal with his grief. He got used to it, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

Jungkook wonders what his father would have done if he was in this situation. Would he have pushed for the pregnancy’s termination? Would he have walked away? Or would he have stayed and raised the baby?

Then, he remembers the one time when a werewolf fell in love with a human. The human got pregnant, and his father discovered it. He exceptionally showed mercy to the couple and spared them, but they had to terminate the pregnancy and part ways.

Jungkook’s father kept a close eye on them to ensure they wouldn’t get back together discreetly. Jungkook remembers how he felt back then; he thought that his father was way too nice. They should have been killed like it was done in the past.

His father then explained to him how things are never black and white. There are also grey areas. The werewolf in question was one of the best in the pack so killing him would mean putting the pack in danger. He had to make a decision, a difficult one. So, he decided to show some mercy. He knew that in return, the werewolf would be grateful.

His father was right. That werewolf never crossed the line again, but he also never got married or had any children. Deep down, Jungkook knows that he never stopped loving the human.

But if his father was in his shoes, he believes that he would have never accepted a hybrid to exist. Especially one that carries his blood.

Jungkook rubs his hand on his face with frustration. Stepping away seems to be the right decision, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel like it. He’s not supposed to encourage you to keep the baby, and he’s also not supposed to desire to have this baby.

There has never been a hybrid.

Jungkook is also curious to see what a hybrid is like and how this kind of pregnancy goes. When a werewolf gets pregnant, all her abilities are enhanced. It’s like she gets even more powerful to give everything to her child. It’s really mind-blowing. He got to see it firsthand with his sister; she’s currently pregnant with her fourth child.

But you’re a human and the baby won’t fully be a werewolf. So, everything will be different. He wonders if this baby will be born as a human and develop way later on their werewolf side. There are a lot of unknowns because people are always killed when this type of pregnancy is discovered.

This entire situation is frustrating.

The man growls before shifting into a wolf and disappearing into the woods next to his house. Jungkook wants to escape his ‘human’ thoughts, he wants to forget that this is all happening.

Running in the woods has always been his escape. He adores the smell of nature, the air running through his face, the feeling of the soil under his paws, and the way his mind only focuses on that and nothing else.

Following his father’s passing, he disappeared into the woods for days. It helped him process this new reality; it gave him time to grieve his father in silence before endorsing the heavy role of being a king.

However, this time, even being a wolf doesn’t change anything. His mind pictures a little child running next to him; a child he’ll train to be a perfect wolf. This child is actually growing inside your stomach right now, but that kid can’t exist.

Jungkook is also aware that with time, wolves have this growing urge to have children. He has reached that peak, and it’s why he’s been going through this whole process of having a kid. There’s also the ‘natural’ aspect which means having sex, but he can contain that part for now.

On top of that, he’s also looking for his soulmate. The person with whom he’ll mate for life. In the werewolf community, when you choose your partner, you stay with them until your last breath. When you find them, apparently, you know it.

His parents and his sister have already described how they felt. When you meet your person, you instantly feel like you’re one person. You’re connected in all aspects. It seems weird, and until you don’t find that one person, you won’t ever understand it.

Jungkook sometimes feels like he’s never going to find his person, and sometimes, it feels like a suffocating feeling. His community expects him to find his queen, to give a queen to the werewolves. But he wonders what will happen if he never finds her.

One thing is for sure, he’s single with a human child on the way. His life couldn’t be more chaotic than that.

Even though he won’t ever make part of his child's life, he’ll protect you no matter what decision you make in case anyone ever finds out about this.

Later in the day, his sister, Dohee appeared with her three children at his place. Since she’s in the last trimester of her pregnancy, she doesn’t do much, so she randomly shows up at her brother’s place as if he doesn’t have anything to do.

However, Jungkook adores to be around his nieces and nephew. He simply loves kids, and he would never mind being interrupted by children. He’ll never admit it, but he also loves to have his sister coming. They have a very strong bond.

“How’s the big wolfy king Jungkook doing?” she says while entering his office, and he rolls his eyes.

His sister never stops teasing him, but it’s the way she shows her love.

“Always making fun of me, wolfy princess,” he claps back.

The kids run to hug him. Since they are small, they hug his legs.

“Uncle Kookie,” they scream with joy.

These three little humans are the only ones who have the right to call him ‘Kookie’. His other family members also have the right, but he’d prefer ‘Kook’. ‘Kookie’ sounds childish.

“Hey, monsters,” he greets his nieces and nephew while ruffling their hair.

His sister has two daughters, Hana and Yuri, and one boy, Hwan. She’s expecting a second boy, and she said it’d be the last kid she’ll have. Four pregnancies in seven years are more than enough, those are her words.

“Can we go to your garden?” Hana, the oldest asks him.

Jungkook nods and the kids disappear as rapidly as they stormed inside the room. They like to play around in what they call his garden. It actually is the woods, but if they want to call it ‘garden’, Jungkook will be the last person to correct them.

“So, mom told me about that surrogacy thing…” she takes a seat while caressing her pretty big bump. “Care to explain why I heard from her instead of you?”

Jungkook can see in his sister’s eyes how concerned and sad she is. He can only understand her; he’d be hurt if he discovered something this huge by their mother.

“Don’t know…” he whispers. “My mind has been all over the place lately.”

Dohee nods. “A lot has been going on,” she murmurs.

For sure, as a king, things aren’t easy. There are a lot of responsibilities, and whenever things get rough, he has to decide.

“Yep,” he adds.

Jungkook sighs before falling on his desk’s chair. His fingers run through his hair while he closes his eyes. He’s already been thinking too much about your insemination.

As she sees her brother, Dohee now gets worried. The surrogacy journey should be a happy one; it’s one that’ll allow him to have a family. She knows how much he craves to become a father, and the council has also put a lot of pressure on him even if Jungkook will never admit it.

“What’s going on, Kook?” she asks with obvious concern.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do. Does he reveal the truth to his sister? Or does he pretend that nothing is going on? For sure, he needs to vent to someone. His sister might be the one who could hear him without instantly bringing the “bloodline purity law”. She’ll see the problem for what it truly is.

“I sought the help of a well-known clinic that has helped a lot of werewolves,” he opens his eyes to face his sister’s gaze. “It was supposed to be simple; I chose the progenitor, gave them the sperm, and they only had to implant it in a human surrogate,” he explains.

Dohee carefully listens to her brother, very intrigued with what he has to say. She can see the despair in his eyes. It breaks her heart to see him like that.

“But they called me like five days ago to tell me they made a mistake…” he looks away, not able to reveal the truth while looking at her. “They swapped up the samples and they inseminated a human with my sperm.”

Her eyes widen at his words. That’s an unbelievable news! How can a fertility clinic make such a huge mistake?

“That’s a hell of a mistake!” she directly says.

“I know…” he whispers before looking again at his sister. “The thing is that the woman was there to have a baby on her own. I met her the other day to discuss this whole situation,” he tells her. “The clinic suggested to terminate the pregnancy if we desire it. I told that woman that I couldn’t have the baby and why I couldn’t.”

“You told her you’re a werewolf?” Dohee cuts him off.

“I couldn’t do otherwise! She was embarked in this world by a stupid mistake. She needed to know,” he almost screams at his sister.

“Tell me you convinced her to terminate the pregnancy,” she begs her brother with a firm tone.

When Dohee notices the non-reaction of her brother, she instantly understands the extent of the situation.

“Jungkook…” she says.

“I can’t tell her that, Dodo,” he says while closing his eyes. “I can’t force her to do that, it’s her body.”

Now, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her brother is in a hell of a situation. This is way too crazy!

“I told her I’d walk away if she keeps the baby,” he confesses. Both of them open their eyes to look at each other intensely. “But I don’t know if I can do that…” he admits.

She can understand her brother’s perspective; having a child is such a joyous thing. But there’s too much at stake, and she doesn’t want to have her brother killed because of this. It will only create chaos. Thankfully, they have two other brothers, and the Jeon family will remain as the ruling family. But their image will forever be destroyed. How could the other packs and even their own respect them anymore?

She’s scared of what this all could generate. Even if he walks away, a part of him will stay around. She knows her brother too well. Somebody will eventually discover about this hybrid kid, and the council will be informed right away. They will show no mercy to execute him, and their own pack will as well make sure a traitor is killed. The poor woman will face the same punishment, and she didn’t ask for any of this.

“She’s hesitating and she doesn’t know what to do yet,” he adds as he notices her sister doesn’t say anything.

“If you step out, you really need to,” she explains. “You can’t check her up nor this child to make sure nobody ever finds out about them.”

There’s a possibility that nobody ever finds out, but Jungkook has to completely walk away to truly protect them.

“This child can’t ever know who his biological father is otherwise they could claim the heir title due to being your firstborn.”

That’s an aspect Jungkook never considered. This child could indeed pretend to the throne if they wanted, even though it would never be accepted by the other packs.

“This is what I can advise you, big bro,” she adds.

“Thanks, Dodo,” he answers. “I really needed to speak about this with someone.”

She offers him a little smile before they change the conversation’s topic.

A week has passed since Jungkook told you about his secret. Since then, you’ve been doing everything to not think about it. You’ve not even thought about what you’ll do with the child growing inside of you.

You don’t want to face the truth. There’s a werewolf universe; one that your child will be a part of. What will you do if you keep them? Will you be able to face their werewolf side? Will you ever reach out to Jungkook for help?

There are so many questions, but you don’t want to think about them. All you desire is to forget about all of this.

Today, you’re meeting Felix at a cozy café. It’s your usual Thursday meeting. It’s been like that since you moved out, and you’ve been grateful to have these moments with your father. However, for today’s meeting, you’re feeling kind of nervous. You know he’s going to raise questions about your pregnancy while you don’t even know what to do.

“Sweetheart,” Felix welcomes you with a hug.

You hold onto him like you’re holding on for dear life. Now that you have him in front of you, it reassures you beyond comprehension. It feels like you can let go of whatever is going on in your head.

“Are you okay, angel?” he asks.

He breaks the hug, takes one step back, and looks at you with evident concern.

“Not really,” you admit.

The two of you sit down; worry never leaving his eyes. Felix has noticed that you’ve been distant these past few days. He didn’t say anything because he thought that you needed time and space to deal with the pregnancy’s early days. He still remembers how his late wife was when she was pregnant with Lexi.

Now, he realizes that there’s something more. He can tell it by the way you respond and how tired you look.

“What’s been going on?” he says the second you’re both sitting.

You bite your lower lip, deeply thinking about what you should say. There’s absolutely no way that you’ll reveal the werewolf universe, he’ll never believe you.

“The fertility clinic made a mistake,” you finally say.

He furrows his eyebrows.

“They swapped the donor sample with somebody else’s sample,” you continue. “That man turned to the clinic to have a child through surrogacy.”

So far, Felix doesn’t really understand where the problem is.

“The thing is that the clinic contacted us both to inform us of the mistake, so I’ve met him, and it destroyed the entire plan,” you rub your face with your hands. “I felt like I lost control of my life all over again.”

Now, he understands everything. Since you’ve lost your parents, he’s seen how you’ve been trying to gain control over your life. But you’ve been struggling your entire life. This thing of being a mother alone felt like you were gaining control.

“They will refund the treatment and suggested we could terminate the pregnancy.”

Felix believes that it’s the least the clinic could do to compensate for their mistake.

“The father said he doesn’t want the child but doesn’t want to force me to abort, so it’s really up to me…” you feel like you’re about to cry.

The sixty years old man lets you speak without interrupting you.

“It’s such a difficult decision,” you admit. “I thought having a baby on my own would be simple… but nothing about this seems simple anymore. I’ve stepped into something I can’t control.”

He nods, understanding your dilemma. All he can do right now is to reassure you, because he can’t choose for you. That decision is yours, and only yours. At least, that’s the thing you can control in this entire situation.

“You’ve always been strong, yn,” he says. “You’ve faced so much loss, but you’ve found a way forward. There’s no need to figure everything out today.”

You’d like to think that it’d be as easy as Felix makes it sound. There’s a legal limit for abortion; you can’t spend weeks wondering what to do.

“But time is running, and I can’t hesitate forever.”

Your father figure smiles at you while grabbing your hands.

“I know, but I trust you. I don’t doubt you’ll find the answer on time.”

You smile back at him. Even though his words are comforting, they don’t really help. You don’t know what to do with the life growing inside you. A life that you can hear and feel. A life half human and half werewolf.

“Sometimes I feel different,” you start saying with hesitation.

You can’t reveal the true nature of Jungkook, but you’d still like to speak a bit about it with Felix. Maybe he’ll be able to reassure you about it.

“Like there’s something beneath the surface that I can’t put into words,” you continue. “And it scares me.”

This entire situation scares the hell out of you. There are so many what-ifs…

“Whatever this is, yn, trust yourself. You’ve never been alone. Lexi and I have always been by your side through this entire process, and we’ll remain until the end,” he reminds you. “I’m sure you’ll find your way through this.”

You’ve always admired the way Felix trusts you and encourages you also to trust yourself. It has never been easy for the past twenty years, but he’s been the light guiding you through every tough moment. You’re lucky to have him, and you’ll forever be grateful that he took you over after the passing of your parents.

“You’ve inherited your parents’ strength; they left everything behind to offer you a proper life, and even though they didn’t get to see you become the woman you are today, you’ve grown far away from that family that never wanted you.”

Being reminded that your grandparents disapproved of your parents’ relationship and your existence breaks your heart. You would have loved that things were different. You would have loved to meet them. You don’t know anything about your family. You don’t even know where your parents originally are from.

You know Felix and your parents have been trying to protect you, but you’ve always wanted to discover the truth, to understand why your grandparents didn’t want your parents to be together. You ignore so many things, but you haven’t been able to discover anything about your parents’ past. Whatever happened, it’s like it was erased.

And you also are a hundred percent sure that your parents’ murder is related to this family story. You don’t know how, but you feel it in your guts. When you think about it, it sends shivers down your spine because there’s a tiny possibility that your grandparents killed your parents.

“Did you ever meet my grandparents?” you dare to ask.

Your entire life you’ve hesitated to question Felix about the family issues. It wasn’t his place to know about it and reveal it to you.

“No,” he answers. “I met your parents after they left their hometown.”

You nod although you aren’t fully convinced about that. You don’t say anything else. Your parents are a touchy subject with Felix; he lost his friends after all. It mustn’t have been easy for him too, especially since he took you over.

“Thanks, Felix for your support,” you smile at him.

Felix squeezes your hands with a bright smile on his face. There’s no doubt that this moment has reassured and comforted you a lot. Now all you have to do is face the situation and really think about what you’ll do.

On your way back to your apartment, you could swear you felt Jungkook’s presence nearby. It’s not logical, not even remotely possible. However, every fiber of your being screams ‘he’s here’. You walked slower as your eyes scanned every corner and alley, looking for someone that isn’t there.

You paused at a streetlight, slowly turning around. He’s here. You’re certain of it. But where? How? You pull your jacket tighter around you, shake your head, and start walking. Even though you’re getting closer to your apartment building, the feeling doesn’t fade. It clings to you like a second skin. You’re not scared, not really. If anything, you feel protected as if someone is watching over you.

As you step into the lobby of the complex building, the feeling slowly starts to fade away. But even as you stand in the elevator, you can’t shake the sensation. You felt him; you know you did. And it terrifies you just as much as it comforts you.

Once inside your apartment, you directly walk to your couch after removing your coat and shoes. You sink onto it as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding back. Nothing really feels normal anymore. Everything is just different now.

You wrap your arms around yourself to kind of protect yourself. You must admit that you’re a bit scared of what the future might hold for you. There’s a baby growing inside you; one you deeply desire, but that baby is linked to a world you never knew existed two weeks ago. And it’s a baby whose father doesn’t want them.

Your right hand snails down to your stomach as you think about this child. You’ve spent so much time dreaming about this. About holding a tiny life in your arms. About creating a family that felt yours. But this? This isn’t what you planned.

However, you can hear Felix’s words inside your head. He’ll be there for you; he’ll support you in whatever decision you make. You know that you won’t be alone in this process. You’ll have him and Lexi, and your friends too.

And there’s Jungkook…

You shake the thought away. He was very clear; he doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want you. You feel a bit sad for him. He wanted a child otherwise, he wouldn’t have sought the clinic’s help. And now, he has a child with a human which is completely forbidden in his world. It mustn’t be easy for him too.

As you caress your stomach, trying to comfort you and the baby, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you want to keep the baby. It’s not a definitive decision, not yet. You still doubt it, and there’s still some fear within you related to this whole werewolf thing.

But for the first time since the clinic’s mistake, you feel like you’re slowly leaning into a choice. It doesn’t feel like you’re still completely torn apart by the two choices. It’s still an uncertain choice. But it’s yours.

Tonight, it’s been hard for you to properly sleep. You’ve been turning in your bed, trying to find the right position to sleep. But none of them seems to be the right one. The city light picking through the curtains seems also not to help you. It feels like the world doesn’t want to let you sleep.

On top of that, when you close your eyes, your mind instantly goes to Jungkook. You relive again the moment he revealed his true nature; you see again his intense gaze on you and how his eyes turned red.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about him?” your voice is barely audible in the silence of the room.

Your hands move down to your stomach for the millionth time today. Whenever you think about Jungkook, you’re reminded of the life growing inside you. A life that wouldn’t exist without him.

You end up giving up and sit up, your back leaning against the headboard. You look around, your room is a complete mess, just like your mind. A couple of weeks ago, while looking at your bedroom, you were thinking about how it would change once you become a mother.

Now, you’re facing a reality where werewolves exist. A reality where Jungkook rejected the baby. A reality where you still don’t know what to do. And it feels like it’s crushing you. It feels like all this constant thinking is suffocating you, like the city noise.

But then, subtly something changes.

A warmth starts spreading through your chest. It’s like when the sunlight breaks through the heavy grey clouds. It’s like receiving a hug from a loved person. It’s reassuring and comforting. You close your eyes, your eyebrows furrowing as you feel the same presence as earlier today. However, this time, it’s not physical, but it feels real.

It’s Jungkook.

You can’t explain it, but you know. You’d like to say that you’re going crazy, but it doesn’t feel like it. You feel his presence, and you don’t know how.

“Jungkook,” you whisper while opening your eyes.

From afar, Jungkook is sitting in his study, looking at the forest through a large window. His expression is tight, and his jaw is clenched. He’s been more than ever nervous and stressed.

Suddenly, a very faint whisper of his name brushes against his mind. His eyes widen slightly as he feels something, or should he say, someone. He then closes his eyes to feel this sudden connection.

For a brief moment, he swears he can feel you. He can feel your confusion, your exhaustion, but also your strength. He takes deep breaths, trying to push away whatever this is. He isn’t supposed to feel any of this with a human. He isn’t supposed to be connected to a human.

But it seems like nothing makes sense anymore.

There are many things that aren’t supposed to exist or to make sense, but everything shifted the second you came into his life.

As the sensation fades away, he runs a hand through his hair while you wonder what the heck just happened.

Jungkook’s eyes look at the moon peeking through the clouds. It’s a beautiful moon even though it’s not the full moon yet.

“Mister Jeon,” his footman enters the study room. “Yuna is waiting at the door, she’d like to speak with you. Do I let her in?”

The king hesitates for a couple of seconds, but then proceeds to let her in. He wonders what she’s doing here, and he’s very curious to know about it.

Yuna, his ex-girlfriend arrives quite rapidly and with a lot of grace. She’s still as pretty as he remembers, it’s like she didn’t change in over a year. His heart starts pounding rapidly in his chest, making him wonder if he still loves her. Undoubtedly, he isn’t unaffected by her.

Jungkook stands up and she bows to him once in front of him. “Your Majesty,” she says.

It’s weird to see her doing that; it’s the first time she ever does it. When he became a king, she was his girlfriend, and he refused to let her bow to him even though they weren’t equals. To him, it didn’t make any sense for all that. However, today, she represents nothing to him. She’s just a simple werewolf.

“Yuna,” he firstly says. “What brings you here?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, Jungkook,” Yuna is draped in an elegant coat, and Jungkook can see a red dress beneath the coat.

Jungkook sits back down on the chair, rubbing his temple. Of course, he’s been avoiding her because she’s his ex. It wouldn’t make sense to run after her, especially when she’s the one who walked away in the first place.

“I’ve seen it at The Bloods’ gala, the council monthly meeting, and last full moon,” she adds.

The further he is from her, the better he feels. But it’s nearly impossible. She’s the descendant of one of the most ancient families of The Bloods’ pack. Her family is powerful, but definitely not as powerful as Jeon’s family. Both families share a history, but that’s it.

“What did you expect?” he asks.

A year ago, she walked away, and Jungkook didn’t fight for her. When he became a king, he had to navigate this entirely new role while coping with grief. Yuna was kind of obsessed with the possibility of her becoming the next queen and mother to the future heir. She wasn’t there when he needed her.

Instead of navigating this together, they isolated themselves. She was constantly complaining about the fact that he wasn’t paying any attention to her. She desired the power he could grant her, but she felt like she didn’t matter. She felt unloved and unfulfilled in the relationship.

So, she walked away, and he let her go.

Jungkook thought that it was for the best. It simply was too hard for him to deal with everything, and his role absorbed all the pain he felt when she left. It was a five-year-long relationship, he still loved her even though his love changed over time.

“Well, at least, a simple ‘hello’,” she answers before crossing her arms against her chest.

Yuna never imagined things would turn out like this when she left. She deeply regrets what she did, and she has been contemplating for a while to win her king back.

“Unless I have to, I’d never come to you to say ‘hello’,” he instantly snaps back.

Without asking for permission, she takes a seat on the couch near her. She seems infuriated but doesn’t let it break her shell.

“There are rumors…” she murmurs. “Saying that you’ve been busy, trying to secure the lineage.”

Over the past months, a lot of rumors have been circulating about him. Some are saying that he’s with someone, others that he’s engaged, and others stating the truth—that he’s been trying to have a child. As usual, he hasn’t said a damn thing.

“Well, those are only rumors,” he answers, trying to hide away any expression that might betray him.

For a split second, his mind pictures you smiling. A smile he caused when he handed you the small box of pastries. Technically speaking, you’ve secured his lineage.

“I believe them,” she says. “I knew how much you wanted a child, and you’re a terrible liar,” she adds. “Now, I’m left wondering if you’re doing this through surrogacy or if you really got someone pregnant.”

“Yuna is definitely smart,” Jungkook mumbles to himself. It has always impressed him how intelligent she can be when something gets her attention. This seems to be a hot topic for her.

“And if someone is pregnant, it might mean that you’re seeing someone.”

A smile appears on his face, his eyes looking right through hers. She’s way too curious about this, and he definitely wants to leave her wondering even more. But this woman could find you if he leaves her in the dark, and that is something he can’t let happen. He has to protect you from his world.

“Maybe, it’s neither option,” he answers.

She narrows her eyes as if she’s trying to see which option is the correct one.

“If it’s none of them, then I can help you with that.”

Jungkook instantly laughs; this woman is beyond crazy. She can’t come back just like that. Their relationship died a year ago so there’s no turning back. Plus, making her the mother of his child would give her the power she tried to have when he became a king. Jungkook isn’t that stupid.

“You can keep it to yourself,” he says. “I don’t need it.”

If they were still together, they would most probably be expecting a baby. Or they would have already been parents.

“And if you only came to throw me that bullshit, you can leave,” he adds. “I’ve more important things to deal with.”

Those last words profoundly hurt her, but again, she doesn’t show it. She stands up and walks closer to him before bending down, her lips near his ear. Surprisingly, this closeness doesn’t make him shiver like it used to.

“It’s just the beginning, baby,” she whispers. “You won’t get rid of me so easily.”

She presses a kiss on his cheek before vanishing. Jungkook closes his eyes, a deep breath escaping his lips. This is the last thing he needs right now. He already has so much on his plate, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with his ex.

“What did I do to deserve all of this?” he whispers.

With his eyes closed, his mind gets lost in visions of your face. They appease him in an unexplainable way. Nobody has ever had such an effect on him—even less a human. He doesn’t really know what to do. Maybe for now, it’s best to simply ignore all of this.

However, he wants to make sure that you’re safe. He’s scared that Yuna might discover you and put your life in jeopardy. If she ever finds out about you, she’ll do everything in her power to give you the same treatment previous humans had in the same situation. Death.

Jungkook totally ignores your address, but he’s a king and a werewolf. He could find you by your smell or if he asks someone to look for you. Well, being honest, he has already done some research about you. He wanted to discover who you are. Wanted to know who the mother of his unborn child was.

He shifts into a wolf before running through the forest. He could have run through the city, but people would see him which is risky. Although some werewolves do that, he’s the king. He can’t make any reckless move. His world needs to be protected; he made an oath when he succeeded his father.

Once he’s near your place, he shifts back to his human form and walks up until he’s near enough to see you through the window. Based on his research, this is the place of a certain Felix, a man who took you over after the passing of your parents. He’s the man that truly raised you.

His gaze finds you quite rapidly. It seems that you’re in a living room animatedly speaking with two men and a woman. One of the men seems to be in his fifties-sixties so he’d guess it’s Felix. The girl he’d say that it’s Lexi, Felix’s daughter; she looks a lot like him. The second man seems to be a complete stranger. Maybe a friend or something like that.

Jungkook checks the surroundings to make sure nobody— especially a werewolf— is around. As he realizes you’re safe, a strong wave of warmth crashes over him. He’s really scared that something might happen to you because of the little life growing inside you. A life whose little heartbeat he can hear.

Since he met you in the clinic for the first time, he’s been hearing that faint heartbeat. He’s also been able to scent the baby’s smell; it’s kind of human, but not entirely. He knew from the first second that it was his child, but he also knew there was something off. It wasn’t just about the baby, it was also about you. Your scent is different than any other human.

But the only thing he found strange about you is the fact that he couldn’t find anything about your parents. Outside their life here, there’s nothing from before. It’s like they never existed before. It’s definitely odd.

Despite all of that, hearing his child’s heartbeat reassures him. Deep down, since the beginning, he’s been hoping you’d keep the baby. His baby.

Suddenly, you look out the window. Under a streetlamp, not too far away, you notice someone looking in your direction. For a very split second, you feel scared, but you’re suddenly reassured. Even though you can’t see the person’s face, you know who it is. You can feel his presence. It’s Jungkook.

You get a confirmation when his eyes take a red wolf form. The exact same form when he partially shifted into a wolf.

Jungkook, on his side, can swear that he saw your eyes turned to a blue color. A deep blue with something wolfish about them. It happens so fast, but he knows what he saw. After all, it seems that you’re not human. You’re a werewolf. And it changes everything now.

please note that the taglist is closed!

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #bloodlines entwined: chapter 2 #spideyjimin

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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

Text

Mother Knows No Bounds

prompt: you are Rhaenyra's daughter, married to Prince Aemond, and the subject of Alicent's hatred. one day, she takes it too far.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader -> technically Velaryon!wife!reader, but you can pick and choose

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Poisoned Apple

word count: 5.7k+

note: 10,000 points to your Hogwarts House if you can find the Lord of the Rings quote

warnings: cursing, vilified!Alicent, Aemond needs his big brother. descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, toxic family being toxic; um is this technically neglect? abuse? potentially triggering description of medical phenomenons, i guess OC Aemond ?

please note again and do not proceed if you are triggered by any of the following content: descriptions of potentially triggering content: miscarriages, natural abortions, involuntary termination, depiction of medical procedure.

you are not missing anything by skipping this, please value your comfort!

The city had come to a screeching halt the moment extreme temperatures skyrocketed, citizens unable to bear the scorching sun during waking, working hours. It was only the brave, stupid, poor, or accommodated persons that dared venture about their lives when the heat index had tripled; silent, since the heat was so sweltering, nobody wanted to add to it by talking. Even the animals were quiet and scarce around the streets, most seeking shelter under any shade they could find.

Women skinny dipped. Children ran around without their clothes. Men forewent any and all armor, most even going shirtless.

The guards were on short patrols and constantly rotated to try and save them from heatstroke. The fishermen all left port to spend time on the water since it was cooler than being on land. Whores wore less than ever before. Vendors constructed makeshift fans for their own air current.

The temperature spike was truly murderous. At dusk, gravediggers traveled the city with a bell and horse-toted cart, announcing if anyone wanted their dead disposed of, now was the time. The heat caused any elderly to dehydrate, their hearts simply stopping; and for young children to overheat and catch too-high fevers.

It was a dreadful time to be alive in King's Landing because the city had next to no coverage, so, the sun beat down on citizens in a suffocating, unbearable, offensive manner. None stood a chance: the young, old, rich, poor, everyone was a target.

For some reason, the fat Lords of the Realm had demanded the King hold court to voice their complaints; temperatures making many operate on short fuses. However, due to his sickly, deteriorating state and wicked weather, King Viserys was unable to sit the Throne; the responsibility falling onto the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. And because she was Queen, his daughter, Alicent was always in attendance.

Yet for some reason, she had sent guards and servants to retrieve her children - including you.

You'd been married to Aemond about 21 months, and while a seemingly short time, certain single days felt more like three when loved by a man you considered your best friend. You had known the One Eyed Prince back when he had no need for an eyepatch, sapphire, or silly nickname, and for years, you were decent friends before growing to attach at the hip. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and best of all, he was a wildly good listener. Even as a child, he didn't talk too much, but still more than he did now; and all his life, he was simply a listener. It made for a peaceful and trustworthy marriage.

21 months of marriage, and now, (almost) 7 months pregnant.

Aemond was over the moon with pride, joy, and excitement when you told him the news. He was eager to meet the babe, and the moment he learned, Aemond started gathering whatever material and furniture he could. He commissioned 11 Septas to knit a series of baby blankets; most with Targaryen colors and / or design. Otto was happy to see his grandson looking forward to married life, and Helaena was elated for you both. She's always liked you like a sister, always thought you were kind, just, and fair, with a healthy balance of being stubborn - all topped off with heaping loyalty. To everyone's surprise, even Aegon sincerely offered congratulations to you both when you broke the joyful news, telling you and Aemond he was excited to meet his newest niece or nephew.

However, amongst the fanfare and triumph, two women remained permanently dismayed by the entire marriage that the prospect of a child genuinely angered them.

The first woman was your mother, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, but she was annoyed simply because she knew the Targaryen Curse was real and thought this was not something you should endure. You were her firstborn, her brightest star, her dearest love; she worried herself to the brim about you, and while she respected your marriage, she's never offered approval.

The second woman was Aemond's mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, who chose to silently seeth to herself (for a time) instead of voicing any opinion or emotion. Years ago, she and your mother were the closest of friends, and after she married Viserys, Alicent lost her friend and the tension has only festered from there. However, now that Rhaenyra was living on Dragonstone, you were the only person close enough to take the brunt end of Alicent's anger and she found new ways to project that. Simply put, she despised you - but she would've hated whoever "took" her (unofficial) favorite child "from" her; who became the leading lady in his life. Alicent's anger was justified, but only towards Rhaenyra - not you.

Yet communication and emotional intelligence was rare in this day.

Alicent knew you were innocent of everything. Yet somedays, she could not restrain her anger and would lash out like a dog chained-up; but you had thick skin. You always endured her quick jabs, sharp tongue, and snarling insults because you loved and respected Aemond too much to bite back at his mother. However, while most days, Alicent was amicable, some days, she was a downright bitch, and other days, she was absolutely diabolical.

Alicent's anger took over and when this happened, she was powerless towards impulse; resulting in usually terribly stressful events that honestly have no business being so fucking stressful - or even further, by becoming catastrophic. For example, years ago, when Luke cut Aemond's eye from his socket, she took the King's dagger from his person and tried to attack Rhaenyra. She ended up slicing the Crowned Princess' forearm, but far more damage was already done, and nothing would ever be the same.

Alicent's anger often blinded her and drove her to impulsive decisions or reactions, and this today, in this heatwave, she went too far.

You were sat in your bedchambers, Aemond at your side as you both listened to a sweating Grand Maester; both your hand and your husband's resting on the curve of your pregnant belly.

"Now, remember, Princess, in these conditions, it's important to lay low for the sake of your health and the baby's. Don't be on your feet in the heat too long, don't exert yourself, drink more water than you usually would, and rest as much as possible." He handed you a tea bag, explaining, "For the nerves before bed."

"Thank you," you agreed, taking what he offered. Aemond saw the Grand Maester out of your chambers as you sighed, using a handheld fan to wave cooler air over your face.

"It's criminal, this heat. Gotta get someone in here with a fan," Aemond mumbled to himself, leading you to a lounge chair to rest on. "Can I get you anything, sweet love?"

"Water, if you'd please," you smiled.

He agreed and stood, but just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Aemond permitted, moving to the table in the room to pour you a goblet of water. The guard who entered wasn't known to you by name, but Aemond greeted him casually, "Ser Mythos. What do we own this pleasure?"

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Do you know why?" Aemond grit.

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"I've asked you why."

"The Queen's requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped, "we heard you! Yeah? Gods," you cursed, head tilted back in annoyance; eyes squeezing shut as your child kicked your bladder.

"The Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Lady and my Prince."

Aemond glanced at you, sighed shortly through his nose, then turned to Ser Mythos to snap, "I will be along shortly, but my wife was told to rest in this heat for our baby's health. We'll need palms brought in for fanning."

"And the Queen has requested you both in the Throne Room, my Prince, both of you. Both, my Prince, both."

Your eyes rolled, telling Aemond, "I think the Queen wants us both, my love." Then shifted your glare towards the messenger, sounding as tired as you looked, "All right, fine, fine, fine, fucking fine, give us a moment to dress and we will be there presently."

"My Lady," the guard accepted, turned, and left the room.

"What could Mother want with us both?" Aemond snipped at you when the door shut with an echoing-clang.

"Does it matter? She's called for us," you frowned.

"They can at least call you by your proper title - we are married now. You are a Princess of the City, they should address you as such."

You waved him off, "Who cares about that? C'mere. Help me up, my love, please. Your kid's sitting heavy."

You and Aemond dressed for court in thin clothing before fixing your hair so it didn't cling to either of your necks. It was already far too warm to even think properly, and surely, nobody would judge if you attended court with your hair pulled up, nor judge Aemond for the fashionably bun you convinced him to wear. No make-up was used, no heels; no corset, nor any pinch of leather. Aemond didn't like the last bit, but you were stern in your worry, telling him that leather would retain his body heat and today was already stifling enough.

When ready, you vacated your chambers and walked to the Throne Room, seeing it filled with a sizable crowd that surely would do nothing to help the sticky heat hanging in the air. Aemond held your hand tightly with his head held high to lead you towards his mother, who stood at the base of the Iron Throne. When close enough, Aemond asked, "You called for us, Your Grace?"

"I did," she eyed you both. "This is a good learning opportunity for you both, I thought it best we were all here."

"Mother, it's too hot for - "

"We are all suffering the same heat," she cut Aemond off.

"Yes, but my wife is pregnant, Mother. The Maester told her to rest, not stand in court with a hundred bloody people."

"You mean to tell me she has a higher priority than - "

"Yes. That is what I am saying, Mother. My wife certainly has priority over everything else as far as I am concerned."

Alicent shook her head, "For as long as we hold places in court, we will attend court. All of us, as a united family. Now, pay attention, you both will hold places here after King Viserys, best you know this all now."

So, you stood there like an obedient dog as slowly, one person after another approached the Throne to tell Ser Otto Hightower their grievances. They yapped up all the advice and court rulings; Aemond standing at your side, and while he was listening to what was being said, he also kept an eye on you out of sheer worry. There was no air to blow, no window to open; mediocre fans and palms brought in to manually wave by a few sets of servants. Yet it wasn't enough.

Sweat bulleted on brows. Pale cheeks flushed with heat. Legs started to shake from stress. Clothes dampened and clung to skin.

You were all of the above and then some!

The heat felt criminally offensive, and you knew you wore your displeasure on your face. Discomfort while pregnant isn't easy to hide, your hand smoothing over your belly as you exhaled a slow, calming breath that did literally nothing to aid your tangible anger. The common folk still reported to Otto, but you knew this was far from over, trying to blink back your discomfort as your stomach churned; twisted; started to cramp with increasingly stabbing pain. The heat festered a headache and soon, the nausea set in.

Taking another deep, long breath, you focused on the man complaining about his neighbor stealing his crops, his silver, and how the other man was fucking his wife - in his very own barn! The man asked for permission to sentence the neighbor to trial by combat, and for the life of you, you could not understand why you needed to be present for this.

Another farmer came up, saying there were too many maggots in his fields and needed the King's coin to bring in specialized mulch for himself and all the farmers in all of the Riverlands - who were plagued by this contagious maggot infestation.

Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place came up and asked for an increased patrol of "the King's Men", sell swords sent to "keep the King's peace." A group with radically different tactics than Daemon's Gold Cloaks.

This "Some Lord of Some Lineage From Some Castle of Some Place" even presented his daughter, saying she was fit to marry the Prince Aemond. Eyes turned to you and for whatever reason, you felt embarrassed by the sudden attention. So, you shied away from it, shifting slightly closer to Aemond as Otto spoke with a bored expression, "Prince Aemond is wedded already. As is his brother, Prince Aegon."

"What 'bout the li'l one?"

"Pardon?" Otto blinked.

"The Queen's last son?"

"With respect, my Lord, our son is still a child learning the ways of the world and is no way fit to marry quite yet," Alicent cut in, your feet going numb and making you sway slightly. "The Crown has learned from other marriage pacts to examine all offers carefully," but Alicent's sharp words flew over your head as something in your stomach pinched sharply like a severe period cramp. Your breathing came out in shudders; holding onto Aemond securely as he looked down at you with worry.

Your entire face, neck, and chest glistened with sweat. It clung to your hair, raced down your chest, and when he got a closer look, he didn't like the discoloration to your skin. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong...

"Then it shall be a long engagement so you might consider my daughter well!" The Lord barked, laughing gruffly. "She is not a disappointment, my Lord Hand."

"The Crown will consider your offer, Lord Peregrin, but the Crown must weigh other presented offers before marrying young Prince Daeron to anyone," Otto spoke diplomatically.

"Aye, I'll offer her dowry. Twenty thousand good men for your army, and I can spare about 500 Gold Dragons."

"Our army? Are we at war?" Otto faked a chuckle, your vision starting to blur but you refused to cause a scene. Your mouth had cotton in it; tongue sticking to your roof and your cramps were getting worse. You sweat so much, it was running down your neck, forehead, shoulders, lips, thighs, chest.

"Well, no, perhaps not in this moment, Lord Hand - Your Grace - but we know the rumors about the King's lineage," the Lord spoke boldly, making your blood boil, but the pain was over-powering your ability to speak. Tears actually coated your eyes. "Prince Aegon should be named the rightful heir to the Throne, so, if the time comes that he needs an army, my daughter's marriage to Prince Daeron would guarantee those men and swords."

Otto sighed as you gulped harshly, wincing in pain, a single tear rolling down your cheek. The cramping intensified, the bolts of pain setting your muscles on fire and radiating into your organs - or so it felt like. The Throne Room was too hot for you to withstand much longer; there was no water, and you'd been standing there going on three hours. Not to mention, you had been throwing up terribly violent in the night and mornings, meaning, you were probably (very likely) very dehydrated and that wasn't good for you nor the baby.

The longer you stood there, the sicker you felt. The longer you stood there, the more Aemond worried. The longer you stood there, the more time you had to develop a strong resentment towards Alicent. Your hand went to your belly, trying to regulate your breathing, but even your dress gave you away - sweat darkening the hemlines. Since finding out you were pregnant, you and Aemond agreed you would no longer wear corsets, and for a whole weekend, he took you to Highgarden to visit the tailors. They created a whole new "maternity wardrobe" that was loose but still womanly by being formfitting. They were made of breathable material, since Highgarden was tropical and often warm; and Aemond adored the sight of your bump.

"Aemond," you whispered, your husband looking down at you but so did Alicent. "I'm not feeling well, my love. I-I need to sit, I need water."

"We're almost done - "

"This is not the time to distract everyone," Alicent snapped quietly at you. "Focus, and let Aemond focus, too, he's the Prince. You don't need him for your every whim."

You only nodded and closed your mouth, clearing your throat of emotion, knowing something didn't wasn't right. It was more than a gut feeling now, you just inherently knew something was wrong. Disconnected. Short circuiting.

The hall was too hot.

Stifling hot. Suffocatingly hot. Stuffy sort of hot.

Overwhelmingly hot.

Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, so fucking hot!

Your nausea got worse to the point you were going to hurl at any moment. You know that feeling? C'mon, yes you do! You start to feel a little shaky, then your mouth starts "sweating" (or watering) and you even get a little clammy; maybe you even start to look gaunt? Maybe your skin changes color? That feeling? Yeah, that's exactly what was happening!

So, to keep calm, you just start taking long, deep breaths. The last thing you wanted to do was panic when surrounded by so many members of court... Then something that felt like urine raced down your inner thighs, yet you barely noticed it, too distracted with keeping upright. Blood puddled beneath your skirts on the stone but nobody noticed yet. More Lords came and went, some Ladies, more and more farmers with trivial disputes. Fathers, sons, uncles, neighbors, you name it!

However, to your earnest shock, when a particularly amusing man came to speak to the King('s Hand), Aegon had glanced at his brother with an amused smirk, but caught sight of you, requiring a double-take. "Brother," Aegon turned from his 'front row seat', showing a rare moment of emotion by looking concerned at your being. "Oh, Gods, fuck," he worried, looking ready to extend his arms to you.

"Fuck," Aemond breathed, turning you to face him. "Can you hear me, sweet love? Hey, hey," he spoke your name, "can you hear me?"

But it was as if you were in a trance. Waves crushed over your ears, sweat rolling down your skin, appearing clammy and as if not in your own body. Aegon jolted forward when your eyes rolled back in your head, knees buckling, forcing your husband to catch you before you began your descent to the ground. When he caught you, it revealed the blood from under your skirts, and when Aemond got you on the ground, he realized your legs were coated in slick, mucus, and both dried and fresh blood; indicating you had been bleeding for hours.

"Call the Maester!" Aemond barked. "Get the bloody Maester!"

"She's bleeding," Aegon pointed out.

"I have eyes to see, brother, I know she is bleeding!" Aemond snapped, his panic tangible. "Love! My sweet love, please, open your eyes, please. Fuck's sake, please, open your eyes - let me see them. Sweetheart, please, c'mon - FUCK! Brother! Brother, help, please, there's blood! There's too much blood! Aegon! What do I do!? Aegon, please! What do I do!?"

"Let her breathe, brother, the Maester's are coming, it's gonna be all right, I-I've heard this can happen. Okay? Just gotta wait for the Maesters, Aemond," Aegon nodded, reaching a hand to his younger brother's shoulder in comfort. Otto descended the Throne to get a closer look as guards surrounded your unconscious body and Aemond's panicked, kneeling form.

"What happened?" Otto demanded.

"She passed out," Helaena frowned in worry, looking as if tears would soon fall. "And there's blood - she's been swaying, I-I think she was ill."

"It's the heat," Aemond snapped, tears down his cheeks. "We were told she needed rest in this temperature, but no." His glare turned to his mother, "We were both expected here."

"You saw the Grand Maester?"

"We did."

"He told her to lie down?" Otto asked, looking and sounding confused.

"To rest," Aemond nodded, supporting your limp head and neck.

When the Grand Maester arrived, he wasted no time in demanding your limp form be brought to his chambers for monitoring and examination. Aemond picked you up and carried you, leaving everyone else behind - or so he thought. The Maester spent a grand total of 43 minutes conducting diagnostic tests, and when the last exam was brought up, he asked Aemond to step out of the room as the examination would turn more intimate.

When Aemond stepped out, he was surprised to see Aegon and Helaena standing there. Aegon instantly pushed off the wall, asking, "Well? How is she? What's happening?"

"One last test," Aemond answered in a low mutter. "What're you doing here?"

"We wanted to make sure you were both all right," Helaena, his sweet sister, answered.

"Mother didn't demand you stay?"

"No, Mother actually called an end to court," Helaena told Aemond. "Grandfather was very angry."

"He was?"

"Never seen him like that," Aegon agreed, telling Aemond of the words Otto raged at Alicent.

When the chamber doors opened, Aemond was invited back inside. He took to your side instantly, but there was a knowing look in your eyes. You never looked at the Maester, only at your husband, as it was explained that due to the heat, you had become dehydrated over time and then spending the day in court, it was just too long a time being on your feet without water or fresh air. You had toppled over the side of heat stroke, the lack of hydration causing you to involuntarily miscarry.

The child would not grow and for your safety and health, the Maester would have to preform essentially what is an abortion to eliminate exposure to rot. Aemond blinked in astonishment, feeling confused about the turn of events, but when he realized you weren't able to respond, he looked at you.

He made the decision, seeing tears streaking your cheeks and the dead look in your eyes.

You were prepped for the procedure and while the Master tried to escort Aemond out, nobody was able to move him from his place at your side. It took the better part of an hour, but when it was over, not only were you given an additional dose of Milk of the Poppy, but Aemond was also given several vials for you in the coming days. He was also given a plethora of herbs, spices, remedies, salves, therapies, and treatments; being given explicit instruction and detail about all he was given, being told when to use what to best help you.

Aemond stooped to pick you up, again, refusing to let anyone else touch you, and the Grand Maester held the door for him. Aegon, Helaena, Alicent, and Otto were all revealed, but Aemond didn't even so much as blink at them; whatever life might've been left lurking behind his eye being completely snuffed out. He made a direct beeline for your chambers with the intention to let you rest in a soft, familiar bed for however long you needed, but he was followed by his family and knew this would be anything but a peaceful time.

"L-Love?" You whimpered when your husband laid you on your marital bed. "Aemond? Aemond?" You asked a little more frantically, being soothed swiftly.

"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart," he hushed, ignoring the audience; one hand holding yours as the other pet your hair back. "Hey, just breathe for me, darling, I'm right here. I've got you."

"I-I might be sick," you complained in a whisper, eyes unable to open as sweat bulleted on your skin.

"'S all right," he assured, grabbing a basin to leave on the bed beside you so he could sit at your side. "'M right here, you're not alone."

Aemond watched the way you harshly gulped, a hand dragging up to press to your belly. "W-What happened?" You mumbled, making his heart clench. "I just... There was a lot of heat and then pain." Your eyes finally opened to meet his, "I remember pain, Aemond."

With a glance up at his family, Aemond told you stiffly, "You remember correctly, love. The, uh... The heat was too much for you to handle, sweet girl, and that wasn't your fault." He took a long breath, clutching one of your hands in both of his, "But it was just too much. We couldn't save them... We couldn't save her."

"I-It was a girl?"

"It was," Aemond confirmed, reaching for your other hand to hold tightly. "And you didn't do this. Hmm? You hear me? This is not your doing."

"But my body - "

"No," he refused with a harsh tone. Realizing you were not the one to take his anger out on, he cleared his throat, "Sorry, love, I just," he took a breath. "Listen to me, okay? No, my sweet love, we were told to rest - you and I were told this heat was too much for the babe and that you would need rest. We meant to, we had every intention to follow the Maester's orders, but..." Another pause as he fought off the emotion clawing through his chest. "But for some reason, royal obligation was more important than our family, and Mother refused to let us miss today's court appearance."

"Huh...?" You breathed, still relatively drowsy from the day. But the emotion was real, your husband saw your pain. "What're you talking about, love? Aemond? What's - What the hell happened to our baby? Where's our baby?"

Aemond's jaw steeled and a tear streaked down his cheek as he forced himself to explain, "The Queen demanded our attendance in court today. And standing in the heat for hours cost us our daughter's life. I am so sorry, my sweet love, but we do not have our daughter because she is... She isn't in your womb anymore," his hand laid over your belly, your own automatically following. "She can't ever join us, our family," he spoke slowly, then tearing his glare away from your tired figure to his mother, sneering, "because my mother can't let go of a decades-old feud with a woman no longer living in this very city."

"Aemond," you whispered, heart shattered in your chest but still managing, "do not take this out on her."

"No?" He snapped, still glaring at his mother but clutching your belly, "If not for her, our daughter would still be safe in her mother's womb and we'd still have the chance to one day hold her. But no," he spoke as slowly as he stood to his feet, pulling his hands away from you, "no, we were unjustly denied that chance."

When her (favorite) child faced her with such hatred, dread, distraught, soul-sucking eyes, Alicent frowned with tears in her own eyes. She had so much to say, but only managed, "I did not intend for this."

"This hatred you feel for Rhaenyra is literally costing lives! For the love of all the Gods, my wife is nothing like her mother! They are not one in-the-same, this does not make her your new target to unleash Hell upon - she has done no wrong and yet suffers these heinous consequences!"

"I did not intend for this! You must know that!" She repeated in desperation. "I only wanted you both to partake in your duties - soon, you will be the ones conducting business at court and you must be readied for what may come!"

"That does not give you the right to forfeit her health!"

"How was I to know - "

"The bloody Maester told us - but evidently, the word of the trained professional is not good enough for you!" Aemond raged, something in his heart snapping. "We are denied the right to meet our daughter because, what? What is it? You cannot reach Rhaenyra right now so you will take the closest thing - being my fucking wife!?"

"Aemond," Otto tried to step in, "perhaps this is getting out of hand."

"It was already out of hand," Aegon defended with a sharp snap, "the moment the Maester was ignored."

"You refuse to respect us," Aemond snapped at his mother, everyone silencing themselves when another tear fell down his cheek. "You refuse to respect us, to listen, and all for why? You think you know better than the Maesters? Or because she is daughter of Rhaenyra?"

"Aemond," Alicent warbled through her tears.

"You've gone too far," his head shook, devastation taking hold, "and I do hope you find deliverance from the Gods, because from me? I do not see how I can find a shred of ability to forgive such a sin."

It was quiet. Helaena's head was bowed, Aegon glared at his mother like Aemond; Otto frowned as he avoided all eye contact.

Imagine everyone's surprise when bare feet padded over the stone ground, two shaking hands raising to press into Aemond's stomach from behind. "My love," you mumbled softly, "please, do not speak so hatefully in this prolonged grief. We will do all we can do now and pray on this, but if we want to heal, we will need to learn to forgive. This was not a malicious, thought-out plan executed in partner with the co-conspiring weather; it was a terrible circumstance that the Gods have chosen us to endure. Your mother can pray for forgiveness, she's owed that right; and we will say our own, but I know that one day, we will be blessed and bring a child into this world. Because it's you and I, Aemond, and our child would be the full embodiment of the purest, truest love - and for something that perfect, we'll need time." You took a breath, looking sickly, gaunt; eyes full of tears as you ended, "But it is not this day."

Aemond turned to wrap his arms around you, insisting, "You should be resting." When he got you to turn to move for the bed again, he snarled at his mother, "She's the one who just lost a child and yet still defends you."

"Perhaps it's best we leave them alone," Aegon recommended. "We'll have meals sent for you both," he told his brother with a meaningful nod. "You both just take your time."

"Thank you," Aemond sighed, easing you back to the mattress; laying a single, thin sheet over your body. When Aegon had ushered everyone out, Aemond just stared down at you for a long moment, sighing sadly and whispering, "I'm so sorry, sweet love."

"Just lay with me," you requested.

He moved to strip himself of his linens, the heat still sweltering, and laid beside you; instantly cuddling you into his bare chest. Aemond knew you didn't want to talk, but this needed said, and he whimpered, "This is my fault."

"What?" You gaped, looking up at him in shock. You quickly pulled his leather eye patch off to force his full attention, holding his cheek and demanding, "What did you just say?"

"If you and I did not marry, if I had not pursued you - courted you," he shook his head, brows crinkled from restrained sobs, "we would not be in this position, you would not know this pain. We knew the tension in our family, we knew the hatred between our mothers, and still I wanted you. This is my fault, I shouldn't've done this - you should not have to endure this."

Your hand reached up to caress the side of his face; foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, warm the same space, sweat onto one another, but never wanting to be apart. It was a sticky embrace but you both needed it, and you hushed, "I regret nothing about us. Nothing, Aemond. If I knew how this would play out, I'd do it all again because I know I love you beyond words. Beyond," you giggled lightly, "rational thought, even. Aemond, everything you are, I adore, and all we are together is... It's the greatest pleasure of my life. My greatest honor."

"I do not deserve a woman like you."

"Perhaps not," you teased, "but you have me anyway. And what do we do with rare women, my Prince?"

His lips found yours in a sweeping kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. When he pulled back, he whispered, "We love them well."

A week later, King's Landing would find relief from the unwavering, record-breaking heatwave - only to be blasted by a wave of dragon fire. It was only then the Prince Aemond was seen with his wife for the first time since "The Throne Room Incident", and both were dressed in the traditional color of funerals: black.

You were bestowed an incredibly small bundle of black cloth, and with the rest of the Royal Family following, ventured to a distant hill where a funeral was to take place. Because your daughter was still so very tiny, she was laid in a fiery basin with only you and Aemond to preside over; offering prayer in High Valyrian. He held you close, the wind from the coast whipping all clothing around, and just behind everyone, Vhagar landed with a distinct thundering thud.

You didn't move, staring into the flames.

Aemond looked back, and when Vhagar saw the tears in her master's eye, noting the way he turned back to comfort you and grieve over your daughter, the dragon roared. A roar so loud, it was heard from the Riverlands. A roar so powerful, it shook the ground they all stood on. A roar so terrible, it made a few throats swell in emotion. A roar so sad, ballads would be written about it.

King's Landing might've been relieved from the weather's temperature, but as Vhagar felt her master mourning his daughter, she released an angry flame into the air that the citizens all felt.

For years, on the contrary, the entire city would feel Prince Aemond's cold shoulder to his mother, Queen Alicent, but for now, the heat of grief demanded to be felt.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Poisoned Apple masterlist

#aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen angst

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freakoutgirl · 3 months ago

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said this in the tags of my post before but I feel like it's worth repeating. the thing about this argument that leftists (and specifically feminists) being mean to cishet white men is what's driving them to the alt right is that it's ignoring the fact that these men have women in their lives who are already nice to them. they have mothers, sisters, aunts, coworkers, neighbors, even sometimes girlfriends and wives. there are very, very few men out there that are totally isolated from women that will treat them with kindness. and yet these men will still not see these women as people. they still vote to ban abortion, they will still feel entitled to women's time and bodies, they will still insult perceived "beta males" for not exhibiting their same behaviors. women's kindness does not have a significant material effect on their politics. as long as women will get jobs over men, as long as women are able to say "no" to men, as long as women assert they are people, there will be those men who choose (and I specify choose so people don't misinterpret this as saying it is an "immutable trait") to turn to patriarchal supremacy, and specifically white patriarchal supremacy as long as people of color also make any social headway. that's why the term "reactionary" exists.

#and i'm not saying kindness doesn't have a place in leftist politics or even in deprogramming #but a lack of it is not the cause!!!!! god!!!!!#and this isn't even getting into other kind marginalized people but women are the easiest group to point out #since it's literally half the population and most family units have a woman in there somewhere #also not getting into how white women do the same with poc #it's all about grabbing power where you can take it

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osmanthusoolong · 4 months ago

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“A Canada Post worker says she was suspended after refusing to deliver flyers that compare gender-affirming medical care to child mutilation.

The flyer from Campaign Life Coalition, an anti-abortion group based in Hamilton, Ont., calls for a ban on "child sex-change."

Shannon Aitchison said she is the mother of a transgender adult and given that gender-affirming surgery is only available to people aged 18 and above, believes the wording of the flyers is harmful and discriminatory against transgender people.

"It's misinformation. It is lies and misinformation being presented as truth," she said.

This is the third flyer sent by the group since August. The first two were in support of the Blaine Higgs government's changes to Policy 713, requiring parental consent before school staff can use a child under the age of 16's chosen name and pronouns.

Higgs's campaign manager, Steve Outhouse, has previously said the Progressive Conservatives have "no involvement with this flyer or the actions" of the group.

The most recent flyer calls for banning gender-affirming health care for youth.”

“The Medical Consent of Minors Act in New Brunswick gives anyone 16 years or older the right to consent to medical treatment, including taking medications, such as hormones, or going to counselling. Medical professionals may grant parental-consent exceptions for younger teens who are deemed mature enough to make decisions.

Gender-affirming surgeries are available for those over 18 years of age in New Brunswick.”

…

“Aitchison said she's delivered mail in the past that she personally didn't agree with, but the flyer goes a step further.

"This is the first time I have ever drawn a line in the sand and said … I will not be party to delivering propaganda," she said.”

…

“When the first of these flyers showed up in New Brunswick mailboxes last month, the Canadian Union of Postal Workers said its workers "have been given the option of not delivering the offensive material if it would cause them mental anguish or if they fear for their health and safety."”

…

“It's not clear whether the option was given by the union or Canada Post, and why Aitchison was suspended despite what the union said. The union has not yet responded to CBC questions on the issue.

After three days of suspension, Aitchison said she had a disciplinary meeting and is still awaiting a decision. She said the union has filed a grievance on her behalf.”

I really hope she wins, this is horrendous.

@allthecanadianpolitics

#transphobia #new brunswick #cdnpoli #long post

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komsomolka · 3 months ago

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Women in the GDR were the largest group to lose out through unification. They may now have access to material goods not available before, but they have been pushed back into dependence by a dominant ideology of women serving men. In the GDR, 88% of all adult women worked and another 8.5% were in full-time education, which meant that 96.5% took an active part in the wider social context outside the home and they also had their own income. Work was the basis for economic independence, a sense of self-worth, a place for communication and social interaction, not just a source for additional household income or, as some critics have argued, a state-imposed, obligatory activity.

Women were highly skilled - only 6% had no qualification at all, as against 24% of West German working women. In the GDR, 50% of all jobs in medicine and law were carried out by women and a third of women worked in technical professions.

Given the great importance that work represented to women in terms of their identity, unemployment on the scale, that happened after unification, had a devastating effect. Even after 20 years, on the territory of the former GDR, two thirds of the unemployed were women (in agriculture it was as much as 75%) and they made up at least 70% of the long-term unemployed. Post-unification, the labour market was biased against women; men had a better chance of finding alternative work. [...]

Although gender discrimination was by no means completely abolished in the GDR, this blatant disparaging of women as a group appeared like history going into reverse. This perception is underlined by the fact that, in the general hunt for jobs, children are now deemed to represent a problem. It is well-known that the GDR had excellent childcare facilities which made it possible to combine work and parenthood without financial hardship. In 1989, 68% of working women in the GDR had children under the age of 18, whereas in the Federal Republic it was only 25%. [...]

Unification brought another considerable change for women: the abolition of their right to an abortion on demand. In the GDR, since 1972, women had had the legal right to terminate their pregnancy free of charge within the first 12 weeks. West Germany has a penal code (paragraph 218) which states that abortion is unlawful and those who attempt to abort face up to three years in prison or a fine. After unification it became necessary to bring West German and East German law on this issue into alignment. In 1992, paragraph 218 was amended to adopt GDR legislation, but a compulsory consultation prior to the procedure was added. After protests from the CDU/CSU and the Bavarian state government, which wanted abortion itself to remain illegal, even this amendment was declared null and void by Germany’s Constitutional Court only one year later. [...]

Even after 25 years since unification there still exists a very different perception of equal rights among women in the territory of the former GDR. According to an investigation undertaken in 2008, 80% of East German women wanted an equal division of labour in the family, but only 50% of West German women, among whom traditional family models still exerted a strong force. In fact, the more emancipated consciousness of GDR women has increasingly influenced women in the West, even though they often appear to be unaware of where their new confidence has come.

Stasi State or Socialist Paradise? The German Democratic Republic and What Became of It by Bruni de la Motte & John Green with Seumas Milne (Contributor), 2015.

#posted quotes

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cricketcat9 · 9 days ago

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BREAKING: Democratic State Senator Bradford Blackmon of Mississippi introduces a bill called the "Contraception Begins at Erection Act" to brilliantly troll Republican anti-abortion laws that claim life begins at conception.

This has Republicans seething with rage and it gets even better...

Drawing sharp attention to the absurdity of so-called "pro-life" laws, the bill would make it illegal for men to "discharge genetic material without the intent to fertilize an embryo."

The dehumanizing, controlling language perfectly mirrors the rhetoric that Republicans use when discussing women's bodies and the right to choose.

It goes a step further to parody the "exceptions" that conservatives sometimes carve out in anti-abortion laws, by stating that it will still be legal to donate sperm and use contraception to prevent impregnation.

Violators would be hit with $1,000 the first time, $5,000 the second, and $10,000 for all subsequent violations.

The bill, of course, will not pass in the Republican-controlled Legislature and Blackmon does not intend for it to.

"All across the country, especially here in Mississippi, the vast majority of bills relating to contraception and/or abortion focus on the woman’s role when men are fifty percent of the equation," Blackmon wrote to NBC affiliate WLBT of Jackson.

"This bill highlights that fact and brings the man’s role into the conversation. People can get up in arms and call it absurd but I can’t say that bothers me," he added.

😆😆😆😆😆😆😆

#end the relationship with your hand right now

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supreme-leader-stoat · 5 months ago

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Response to your reblog before I peace out.

The argument of the immorality of abortion is built on the assumption that life inherently has value. Lives do not have any inherent value, because they are the result of millions of years of naturally occurring processes. These natural processes do not have any inherent moral value; attempting to assign one would involve invoking some sort of "god" that exists beyond the material, observable, provable world we live in, rather than some logical, clear, and distinct notion such as the one attempted to be shown. For these reasons, abortion is morally neutral.

On that note, the morality and legality of abortion are thereby a human notion, with a logically valid -though not logically sound- argument in either direction. The argument presented says that "no human life should be purposefully ended by another human being. Because that's murder." In short, they believe that murder is necessarily and inherently immoral. That's all it is though, a belief: There is no wholly logical ground to stand on with regards to murder being universally bad in all scenarios, because of its' moral neutrality as I proved above. In other words, the morality and legality of aborting a fetus is wholly subjective.

"Do you actually have an issue with my argument that a fetus is a human being with the right to life, and ending their life is murder[?]"

Yes I do. A fetus is not survivable beyond the confines of the womb for quite some time; in fact, not until right before the fetus is due to become a baby and be born, that ever-reliable 8 month mark after insemination. As such, considering the fetus is unable to survive without constant connection to the pregnant person, it stands to reason that this is an extension of their body at this point, rather than a separate entity. If one intended to claim it still was at the stages before a fetus can survive independently, then consider this implication: Parasites rely on being attached to living beings in order to survive. This includes humans. Therefore, following the earlier claim that "a fetus is a human being with the right to life, and ending their life is murder," a parasite attached to a human is also a human being with the right to life, and ending their life is murder. Therefore, it is more reasonable to claim that for most of the pregnancy cycle, a fetus is not a separate entity from the pregnant person, and by extension, "ending its' life" is not murder.

"Babies are people, too, and have the same right to life as an adult."

This is true! Because babies are not fetuses.

Just thought you would want to read this, because anti-choice rhetoric can be very harmful in shutting down the agency of pregnant people and their ability to dictate their own lives. Knowing the direction that restrictions of this kind have gone in the past, those restrictions will not stop after the illegalization of abortion. Please consider who this harms and who this helps before spreading closed-minded rhetoric of that kind.

Either morality (God-given or otherwise, because there are many secular arguments against abortion) exists or it doesn't. There is a line in the sand or there is not. If you truly intend to argue that lives have no inherent value beyond what we assign them, then not only are the two of us operating in completely irreconcilable ethical frameworks, but yours collapses under its own weight; harm, agency, all these things mattering hinges on the idea that humans and (to a lesser extent) other forms of life have inherent worth, inherent dignity, that causing the former and undermining the latter are wrong in and of themselves.

If there is no objective standard on which to hang our arguments, then everything becomes subjective; all that matters is what we value on a social and individual level. And if that's the case, why would I ever bother to value the opinions of you, a stranger on the internet, over my own? It would be unfair and wrong of me not to consider other positions, to try to see things from another person's point of view, but why should I care about fairness or rightness?

Equating an embryo or fetus to a parasite is fallacious and incorrect. Ignoring that by the scientific definition parasites have to be a different species from the host, and that a pregnancy is a two-way street that also provides benefits for the mother, embryos and fetuses are simply living out the natural development cycle that literally every other human being on the planet has gone through. The biological principles at play in parasitism and human reproduction are fundamentally different.

I could keep going. I could match your arguments with my own about how anti-life rhetoric is a slippery slope to eugenics, about how I could just as easily twist your arguments around to make social parasites out of the elderly and disabled; but in this case it's pointless, because I can't even get you to sit down and agree upon simple principles like "human lives have value" and "murder is bad" or even "there is such a thing as objective morality."

#there are pro-choice arguments that I'm willing to give credence #none that have successfully convinced me to become pro-choice‚ but I can acknowledge that they're well-reasoned and made in good faith #but you've somehow stumbled upon the one pro-choice argument that I can give NO credence;#that it doesn't really matter anyway‚ that there's nothing either supernatural or philosophical beyond the material world worth considering #that all questions of morals and ethics ultimately boil down to nothing more than a matter of taste #but the question in that case always becomes‚ “So why are we even discussing it? Why does it matter so much to you that I'm wrong?”

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rinhaler · 1 year ago

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You Deserve Roses and You Know This

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ex!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: reposting from my old account! Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, dacryphilia, pregnancy, abortion ideation, miscarriage, depression, adultery, breeding, creampie ♡, smoking mention. Words: 4.1k

“Is it true? Did talking to Megumi make you cry today?” Toji asks you, peeling down your bra strap before sensually decorating your exposed shoulder in delicate kisses.

He didn’t notice, but as soon as the question left his tongue you had instinctively become dead behind the eyes. It was true. You’re an adult, and yet you were brought to tears by his seven-year-old son. It wasn’t that he said anything callous, quite the opposite, really. Earlier that day, Megumi had been sitting playing in your front room. You were babysitting, as you often did, while Toji and his wife were working. Your eyes hold shut as you remember his wife; his beautiful and kind wife while he continues littering your skin in adoration. You shouldn’t be doing this, but you can’t stop now.

Green sparkling eyes looked up from innocent children’s toys to pose you a question – “Why do you hate me?” he asked, genuinely. It was like a knife through your chest. You didn’t hate him. You could never hate him, Toji being partly responsible for his existence is enough reason to adore him with everything you have.

You just wish he was yours.

Toji is patient when he gets his time with you. It’s rare, after all, and he wants to make the most of it. Two large palms settle on your breasts, the straps are down but your bra is still firmly in place. He massages your flesh over the material, lips traversing the expanse of your body until he reaches your pulse point. He licks, slowly, hot eager breath contrasting your own temperature and making you shudder. This, he notices, pulling your back even closer into his chest. His left hand slowly yet forcefully moves up and down your adjacent arm, desperate to dispel the goosebumps that have formed on your skin. He suckles and licks on your ear lobe before nibbling it softly between his teeth. His breathing changes, his mouth level with your ear, he’s going to speak.

“Baby… what were you talking about?” he sighs, an even more chill inducing breath warms the shell of your ear. He pecks against it, the sound of tactile lips puckering slithers directly through your ear canal. You moan, unintentionally, and back further into your temporary lover. He holds your breasts once more; stabilising you, if only a little, as you begin to grind your core against his crotch.

“I- I can’t, Toji—”

Your attention is fixated on him as his hand encases half of your face and turns you to face him. But you both find yourselves closing your eyes as he places a kiss against your lips. It’s slow, yet heated, and you feel him smile into you when he hears you moan into his mouth pathetically. You’re well and truly at his mercy, though you aren’t embarrassed. How else should one act and behave around the love of their life?

“You can and you will,” he explains, biting your lip as he parts from the kiss. A singular string of saliva keeps you connected for a second before snapping. “you can’t have secrets with my son darlin’, you just can’t. So tell me, what were you talkin’ to him about?”

You gulp, nerves overcoming you like never before. Your eyes flutter shut yet again as he diverts his attention from your eyes to your body. The skin behind your ear is the next subject of his eroticism. And yet, he has the gall to chastise you for enjoying it. With one more repetition of tell me you realise you can’t stall anymore. Out of options. And you can’t lie.

“R-Rocco, ah—!”

“How does Megumi know about Rocco?”

“I- I told… him…”

He hikes your leg up so that you’re sitting on his lap like a little girl. The kissing has stopped and the touches have halted. Toji isn’t patient except with you. He’s never looked as furious as he does now, with you. Brows scrunched and the glimmer in his eye you love so much has ceased to exist. His scar looks as raw as it did the day he got it. A non-existent armour made you believe he wouldn’t mind you talking to his son about such a sensitive subject matter, but apparently it is not to be discussed under any terms.

“Don’t you ever talk to my son about Rocco again. D’ya hear me? Never.” he forbids, his eyes seem to soften ever so slightly when he spots that you can’t prevent the way your lip begins to wobble. “If you really wanna talk about Rocco, talk to me. Yeah? No one else, just me.”

“Y-You don’t let me—” you start, your thought isn’t completed. Thoughts are rattled from your mind as he begins manoeuvring you so that your back is flat against the mattress, jade green eyes boring into your very soul as he hovers above you. His arms dip behind your back, finally unhooking your bra and baring your chest to him.

Beautiful, he thinks.

“I’m letting you now.” he explains, his head resting on your chest, looking up with intent behind his salacious stare. He latches onto one of your protruding nipples, taking it between his cracked lips. He sucks and pecks, and it’s almost lazy, but you know it’s with purpose. It’s driving you wild, you can’t help but wriggle helplessly beneath him, desperate to gain some relief on your eager heat.

He pins one of your legs down, stopping you from continuing your movements. It’s torture, you think, he’s expecting you to broach such a heavy subject matter while you’re so desperate for his touch.

“C’mon sweetheart… talk about Rocco,” he commands. You can’t. Tears stream down your face as you do your best to experience Toji whilst thinking back to the past. Your mind spins and you feel as if you can’t breathe. He releases your nipple with an accentuated pop as he smirks up at you. “I remember how scared you were to tell me… when you realised—”

“Fuck, Toji.” you croon, a mischievous finger slithered down your abdomen down the length of your clothed slit. Feather light touches against your clit and your entrance forced your hips to buck upwards carelessly. He snickered, repeating the action again and again. “I- I remember.” you stutter.

You’d only been dating for thirteen weeks. He was yours before his wife entered the fray, before you had to battle for his time and attention. Nerves got the better of you, the thought of admitting to yourself what you already knew made you nauseous beyond any description.

Your period was late.

It was something you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone inform Toji of. It had been so little time since you began dating. You thought he’d leave you, run away and never look back. So, there was only one thing for it. An abortion. You couldn’t keep the baby if you wanted to keep him. It was your only option. You were stressed, manic, exhausted. But at least you’d have Toji – that was all you cared about.

“You were so scared to tell me, weren’t ya?” he asks, hooking a finger beneath your panties before settling it in your inner thigh crease. He plunges a finger inside of you, chuckling when more obscenities fly from your mouth as your head falls backwards into the plush pillows. One of your hand grips the sheets below, whilst your other almost tears his hair from the roots. So little attention, and yet such a big reaction from you. “Thought so little of me, baby, ‘m sorry.” he finishes, adding a second finger to your scorching heat. It's almost as if the air in your lungs has frozen, weighing you down. It’s preventing you from speaking. From breathing. Even thinking.

It was confirmed when you finally took the plunge and decided to do a pregnancy test. Big, black, bold text told you the answer and where your future was heading. Motherhood, for certain. But you knew you had to take care of it before Toji became suspicious. It was something you didn’t even want him to know you were going through. Everything with him was perfect, it wasn’t something you wanted to ruin over something you believed could be easily taken care of.

So… why were you crying every day?

That’s what he asked you. You hadn’t been yourself, and that is what gave you away. Jokes he told that you found funny didn’t seem so funny anymore. The way he traced his fingers up and down your arms made you defensive, and paranoid. You didn’t want him to touch you in case he somehow sensed it in his fingertips. If he felt you he might just know that you’re carrying his child and he’ll skip out on you.

It all came to a head one day after you finished throwing up. You couldn’t keep your cries silent. Your body was betraying you, you felt hurt in ways you never had before and it was becoming impossible to keep it all to yourself. You didn’t dare tell a soul for fear of Toji finding out through the grapevine. But enough was enough, he thought.

“You need to tell me what’s going on with you.” he told you, but you shook your head.

“I can’t Toji, please. Trust me, I can’t.” you explained, “It’s fine… I will ruin everything if I tell you so… so I’m… I’m taking care of it—”

“Cut that shit out right now. This has been going on a fuckin’ while and I can’t stand to see you like this,” he responded, moving his head as you moved yours. You were trying to avoid his piercing glare, but he wouldn’t let you. He couldn’t. He’d never of forgiven himself if you carried on like that, unable to share your woes, and did something you might regret. “Trust me, I’m beggin’ you to trust me, baby.”

He forced you to sit down, and face him. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs and kept all of his attention focused on you as he watched you calm yourself down. Tear filled breaths that clogged your lungs fizzled into shaky exhales the longer you held eye contact with Toji. He wasn’t going anywhere, for now. If you explain you can tell him your plans. Maybe he’d support you if he knew you planned on freeing you both of the burden of parenthood, you hoped.

“I… I’m, uh—”

“Yeah? C’mon sweetheart, doin’ so good f’me just use your words.” he spoke, doing his best to tempt the truth out of you. With one final swallow of terror and closing your eyes for a moment to think, you finally found the courage to confess.

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out quickly. “but it’s okay I’m gonna get rid of it. Okay?” you fumbled out words quicker than you could think. You just wanted him to know that there was no way you’d be keeping the baby. He was what you needed, not a kid. “Please, I promise I’m going to get rid of it, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. D-Don’t leave me, p-please. You are more important to me than a baby, I just want you. I—”

Your rambling was stifled as Toji pressed a finger to your lips. He kissed you on your forehead, a warm smile filled his features. Instantly, you were relived. It meant that your idea of an abortion was enough to convince him to stand by you. There was no reason to worry yourself sick like that, he was going to support you through it all.

“You don’t have to get rid of our baby,” he smiled.

“W-What?”

“In fact, I don’t want you to do that at all.” he warmly spoke, pulling your body into his and forcing his head between the valley of your breasts. It wasn’t sexual, it was just a comfort to him to hear your heartbeat. “Maybe… we could start our own little family, huh?”

Tears roll down your eyes as you reminisce on it all whilst Toji adds his flat tongue to the equation of his fingers in your cunt. It’s all so romantic and wonderful and intense. You don’t think you’ve ever been happier than you were in that moment. The moment you knew he really would stand by you through anything at all. And despite your assumption, he was excited to become a father. He was excited to have a baby with you.

“I love you, Toji.” you speak, softly, unsure if it was even loud enough for him to hear. Oh, but he did. He doesn’t want to stop lapping at your swollen clit, knowing it’s exactly where you need the most attention right now. But a particularly harsh suckle and pop of the bead is a silent acknowledgement, he promises he heard you. “Gonna… gonna cum. T-Toji—”

“No no, baby, not yet,” he instructs. He removes his fingers from your hole, delicately rubbing them over your sensitive bundle of nerves instead. It’s slow and tormenting, but he doesn’t want you to cum like this. “I was so happy when we found out we were havin’ a little boy, y’know? So damn happy princess.”

You remember it well. Your emotions were running high and you had the ability to blame your hormones when you discovered the gender of your unborn child. But you couldn’t quite believe it when you looked over to see Toji’s eyes, eyes that are normally so strict and stern, glossy with tears on his lash line. He couldn’t help it, he claimed.

“Look what we made.” he pointed, the scan revealing perfectly what a handsome little boy you’d made together.

And later that day, he took you shopping. Money was no object. That is what you both decided. Neither of you could believe how much stuff you ended up buying. Paints for the nursery. A crib. Other necessary pieces of furniture. Toys. Clothes. Everything you thought you needed, you bought. You were both first time parents and completely clueless. So, if a shop assistant recommended it, you bought it.

You spent so much time together painting the walls of your baby’s new room. Toji was very irritable when you kept asking what to do and how to help. The paint wasn't going on as nicely as he hoped and his temper flared, it was extremely evident in his face. What do you do when you see an angry bear? Poke it with a stick. Or in this case, flick paint from the end of your brush at him. When he noticed what you had done and he turned to face you, you swear you could read murder on his mind. But when you began to laugh, he couldn’t help the laugh that snuck out of him.

There was more paint on the two of you than on the walls by the end of it.

“That was the day we decided to call him Rocco…” Toji mused.

He began to kiss up towards your naval and back to your neck. Your fingers laced through his hair as you begged for him to deliver the same salvation he was offering your body to your lips as well. He complied, slow patience had dwindled as your tongues found each other. It was wet, heated, sloppy. You felt yourself drooling out of the corners of your mouth, Toji Fushiguro is just so intoxicating. A drug you can’t quit though you know you should.

He’s all you have.

He doesn’t break the kiss from you, though his hand eventually meets his heavy, wanting cock. He guides it to your desperate entrance, lining it up perfectly before slotting himself inside. His hips roll, bullying his cock into you inch by agonising inch until your lip begins to quiver. He hushes you, though.

You both know you want it.

“I’m s-so – fuck – I’m so sorry, baby. I am so—”

“P-Please, pleaaaase stop.” you beg. He doesn’t. You are the one who wanted to talk about it. So desperate to talk about it that you went to a seven-year-old boy to discuss it. His son. “N-No more, I can’t—”

“It was the worst day of my life, too, I promise you that darlin’.” he mumbles in your ear. The thrum of his words rushes straight to your cunt, and you clench so hard around his cock you think he might have to stay there forever.

You don’t think you’ve ever been as embarrassed as you were when you came home from the hospital. Your pristine white maxi dress, stained in bright red blood by your crotch. The atmosphere in your house was foul. Two solemn adults who had lost everything in a few menial hours. Hollowness filled you, not a single emotion ran through you until you heard Toji a few rooms away. You sat on the sofa, turned on the TV and pretended it wasn’t happening. But you could hear Toji loud and clear.

He was in the nursery.

That was the first and only time you’ve ever heard him cry. A loud thud vibrated through you and you knew he had collapsed to the ground. Melancholy overtook him as his new reality was setting in. Your little boy was no more. No fault of your own, apparently, everyone made sure to repeat that enough times for it to really take root in the depths of your brain.

It didn’t help at all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to check on Toji. That would mean going into Rocco’s room and facing the truth yourself. So, you waited. You waited hours for him to finally come out. He came to see you, resting on the balls of his feet in front of the sofa where you sat. Fresh tears replaced old ones as he noticed the drying blood on your dress.

“H-How about a bath, huh?” he suggested.

You don’t remember saying yes, or nodding. But somehow, you found yourself naked and submerged in a bubble bath. It was like you had left your own body as he did his best to clean you. You could hear him sniffling. He was desperate to talk about it with you, all he wanted was for you to help each other cope. But you couldn’t. So, he did his best to lock it away too.

It was as if you had returned to yourself when Toji took a break from washing your hair to wipe more tears from his eyes. A soft mumbling of ‘Oh, Godddddd…’ trailed from his lips as he tried to pull himself together. And finally, your lip began to jut out helplessly. Your eyes scrunched, and the tears began to flow. You were staring at your bloody dress, and listening to him try and hold it together. It was all equating to too much.

It was real, now.

“Our… baby—” you cut yourself off with a wail, Toji pulled you into his hold and sobbed into your sodden locks.

He hissed with each thrust inside of your gummy walls. A perfect home for him in the form of your bodies fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. He doesn’t feel like this with his wife, only you. He couldn’t stay away, he’d never be able to do that.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you.

“’m not good enough… I’ve never been—”

“Stop it, baby. You are enough, I promise.” he tells you through gritted teeth. It’s getting harder and harder to have a normal conversation while he is fucking you so intimately. Every ounce of his love poured into every devastating thrust.

He loves you.

“Wasn’t good enough for you, or our- our baby.”

“Stop it darlin’. Please stop. I- I need—”

“I can’t live like this-!” you cry out. His hand covers your mouth entirely as his mind tries to process what he needs to say to you. Christ. What does he need to say to you? Everything and nothing all at once. He thinks he should start with I love you. But is he prepared to open that can of worms?

“I need… you. I’m gonna leave her, yeah? My wife. Let’s… try again. Me and you, hah? I won’t pull out this time, let me… let me—”

“Tojiiiii—”

“You’re good enough, baby, more than good enough. I’ll cum inside and we can try again. I need to, I need to.”

Your tears stream endlessly but silently. Is this really what you want? Do you want him to break up his family to satiate your unfulfilled desires? It doesn’t matter. You find yourself nodding anyway. Perhaps it will dull the ache inside of you. It could be the plaster to cover to puncture wound in your aching heart; it’s been bleeding since that day.

Toes begin to curl as he continuously batters the spongy centre that spells your eventual undoing with his fat cock head. He isn’t doing much better. Nobody and nothing will compare to the rush and the high he feels as when your precious cunt swallows him again and again.

“Gonna- cum, with me. Please, baby. Cum with me now.” Toji pants.

Your lips are on his again, both of you focusing on your impending climaxes. The way you break away to moan momentarily before smothering each other in kisses yet again is such a lewd, romantic, high that you can’t get enough of. He pounds you perfectly and it’s an arrangement neither of you have been able to let go of after all of these years.

“Oh God, I’m cumming- cumming baby…” he alerts you. You’re practically choking on your own orgasm as it swims through you. Nails dig into his back as you try and hold onto the feeling for as long as you can. He fills you with his warmth, heaving like a desperate animal while he breeds you to the brim.

What have you done?

Time wasn’t a healer for either of you. The days got harder and harder and you couldn’t even stomach looking at him. Each time you looked at him, you saw what could have been. What should have been. The father of your son. The man who was going to teach him everything he knew and help your little boy cause all kinds of mischief for you.

The man you thought could keep you both safe.

That’s how he found himself married to a woman he would never love as much as he loved you. There was a drift, it was aggressive and painful, yet necessary. But you found yourself brought back together a few years after Megumi was born. You were practically an aunt to his son. A second mother, even. A sordid little secret.

You don’t hate Megumi, you just wish he was yours.

The pair of you got changed after he had his post fuck cigarette, knowing you couldn’t risk dallying for fear of being caught. You didn’t doubt for a minute that if you called him in a few weeks and told him you were carrying his child, he’d kidnap Megumi and run away with you to start your new family life together. And you would love that, you’d love him. You’d love it all.

But, it isn’t right. Is it?

He grabs his car keys, readying himself to drive you home to be alone with your dark thoughts. Before you step outside, though, something plagues your mind. A question that you simply must know the answer to. He looks scared, honestly. The way you’re facing him and eyeing him up as the same words twist and circle through your mind. A heavy hand rests on your waist, the other on your cheek. He’s scared, it’s obvious, but he’s still encouraging you to talk.

“Do you ever think about Rocco?” you ask him, genuinely curious. Toji has never felt the need to bring him up, this is the first you’ve discussed him in years. It kills you to think that Toji has managed to shut out thoughts of his unborn son while you are plagued with them each and every waking moment of your pointless life.

And there it is. That warm, kind smile, that is the Toji you know and love.

“All of the time.”

Four simple words have you breaking down like you did that day in the bathtub. Your head is pulled into his chest as he holds you close and tightly, allowing you to bawl every emotion onto him. You can’t control yourself and you don’t want to stop. It’s fine, he thinks. It’s clear that you need it. At least you know something today that you didn’t know yesterday. One piece of information that might take some of the burden off your own shoulders.

At least you know you aren’t alone.

this is a repost from my old account

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nanamineedstherapy · 17 days ago

Text

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Contains Spoilers: Angst-heavy, Mentions of neglect and emotional trauma, Medical themes (unconsciousness, pregnancy complications), Body horror (distorted pregnancy elements), Minor violence (tension with cursed techniques), Discussions of abortion.

A/N: Damn, after the last chapter, I really struggled to piece this one together, but here we are! The drama is hot, Shoko wants to move to Mars, your husbands are stoopidos (bless their dumb little hearts), and I hope this chapter wrecks you in the best way possible. 😘 Buckle up, besties—this one’s a ride!

Chapter 9 (alt ending 1.5 Final Part) - The Shadows We Bury (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 10 (alt ending 2.1) - Silent Reckonings

“Just go,” you said, your voice breaking. “Just leave me alone.”

Nanami’s face fell, the weight of your words crashing down on him. “We can’t just walk away,” he said, desperation creeping into his tone. “We love you. We want to be here for you. And the babies.”

You wrapped your arms protectively around your belly, your body trembling from the effort of holding yourself upright, the weight of their presence suffocating. “I don’t need you. We don’t need you.”

Your voice cracked on the last word, betraying the pain you’d tried so hard to hide.

The finality of your words made them both freeze, their faces pale and stricken.

You turned your face away, unwilling to look at them any longer. The silence stretched, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing.

(alt ending 2.1)

But this time, Sukuna was late by just a few seconds, and your body betrayed you again.

The world tilted, colors smearing into each other as if your mind had finally decided to nope the fuck out of reality. The ground rushed up to meet you, but the darkness came first—silent, absolute, and oddly merciful. Your body gave out before you could muster the strength to fight it, leaving you limp and defenseless. The last thing you felt was the faint impression of arms catching you, strong, but you were already gone, spiraling into unconsciousness before you could berate whichever one of your deadbeat husbands had the audacity to touch you.

Husband’s POV

“Satoru, teleport us out. Now!” Nanami’s voice was tight, his arms cradling your unconscious form with a gentleness that belied the panic bubbling under his calm exterior.

Gojo hesitated, his six eyes scanning over you. Outwardly, there were no immediate injuries—your breathing was shallow, your skin dull, but nothing explained the oppressive weight pressing on his chest. He could see everything except the scars etched deep into your soul, the ones he and Nanami had carved there through neglect and failure.

“She said to leave her,” Gojo muttered, his voice almost uncertain.

“She’s pregnant and unconscious!” Nanami snapped. “We’ve already failed her. Leaving her now would be the final nail in the coffin. Get us out of here, or we’ll never be able to make this right.”

Gojo didn’t argue. The hesitation drained from his frame as he stepped forward, his fingers tracing sigils onto the ground, circling himself, you, and Nanami. Rising to his full height, he intertwined his fingers on opposite hands in an ‘x’ and clapped his palms, the sharp sound reverberating through the room. A flash of cursed energy engulfed the three of you, swallowing you whole.

Sukuna’s POV

By the time Sukuna reached your apartment, all that greeted him was a fractured floor and the faint remnants of strong cursed energy dissipating like smoke. His lips curled into a snarl.

“Fuck!”

Japan

The three of you materialized in Shoko’s infirmary, your limp body still cradled in Nanami’s arms. Your head lolled against his chest, sliding back slightly, but Gojo’s hand shot out to support it before your neck could strain.

Shoko, mid-bite of a sandwich, froze. The half-eaten food dangled precariously from her hand as she processed the scene unfolding before her.

“What the—” she began, her words muffled by bread.

“Help her,” Nanami urged, lowering you onto the nearest stretcher with painstaking care.

The sandwich hit the bento as Shoko sprang into action. With disinfected hands and gloves on, she began her examination. Her fingers found your pulse, and her gaze swept over your form. First, she checked your airway, breathing, and circulation, ensuring the basics were stable. Satisfied with the ABCs, she moved on to your heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation. Recognition flickered in her eyes; she knew you from somewhere, but a nagging feeling tugged at her mind—something she was forgetting to discuss with the men, likely a consequence of her excessive all-nighters.

Her eyes flicked to your obviously pregnant belly, her mind racing. "There it is.” She didn’t need her stethoscope to detect the strong cursed energy signatures emanating from your womb.

Without looking up, she asked, “Aren’t you both suspended? Didn’t think they’d let you back so soon after the whole internal terrorist thing.”

Neither man answered.

Shoko’s gaze drifted to your face, recognition dawning. “Wait a minute. You both stormed her office! You never told me you two were married, let alone to a fucking MacKenzie Scott variant. But... she's been vocal about not wanting children in the media. Which one of you is responsible for this?” She gestured at your stomach.

Nanami flinched, guilt radiating off him in waves. “We’ll tell you everything later, but right now, please focus on her condition.”

Gojo, less practiced in humility, shrugged with forced nonchalance. "You can fangirl later, Shoko. Although I didn’t know Yaga was so gossipy.”

Shoko’s glare could have peeled paint. “If I wasn’t trying to keep my hands clean right now, I’d break your teeth. I have internet, dumbass. Just because I don’t watch TV doesn’t mean I’m blind to the cringey TikToks your students send me. Now, tell me what you two did to her.”

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but Nanami’s quiet voice came first. “We failed her.”

Shoko’s gaze softened briefly before she refocused on your body. The cursed energies surrounding you were erratic, fluctuating between malevolent and passive. She leaned in, scanning for patterns when sudden, faint indentations rippled across your abdomen—like unseen palms pressing from the inside. They vanished as quickly as they appeared.

She recoiled, a shudder running through her. Gojo steadied her, holding her shoulders.

“That’s been happening,” Nanami murmured. “We don’t know why.”

Shoko didn’t respond. Her expression hardened as she motioned for Gojo to roll the ultrasound machine over. He jumped to obey, grateful for something to occupy his hands.

Once the machine was in place, Shoko gestured for Gojo to step aside.

Her hands moved to remove the fabric of your thin nightgown but then turned sharply to glare at the men standing behind her. She caught them staring at your stomach.

The men suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look anywhere but at you. Gojo fixed his gaze on the ceiling fan, examining the dust particles on its blades, while Nanami scrutinized the curtain as if verifying its thread count.

“Get out,” Shoko hissed.

Neither man argued. They retreated but hovered just outside the door, their cursed energy leaking anxiety into the hallway.

Shoko turned back to you, her focus sharpening as she carefully unbuttoned a section of your thin nightgown, exposing your abdomen. The room’s lighting felt oppressive, the warmed gel she applied glinting under the faint glow of the monitor. She adjusted the machine, selecting the obstetric preset and fine-tuning the depth and gain to focus on your reproductive organs.

As the screen flickered to life, the rhythmic sound of heartbeats filled the air.

Outside, the men froze, their hearts pounding in sync with the two heartbeats echoing from the monitor—a soft presence of the life they had created together, but also a stark reminder of the fragile state of their relationship with you.

Nanami's face remained a mask of calm, though his hands were clenched into fists. Gojo, on the other hand, stared blankly at the wall, lost in thought.

Inside, Shoko’s breath hitched. Two grotesque growths protruded from the surface of your uterus, their fleshy masses pulsating faintly. Tendrils extended like parasitic roots, wrapping around the uterine walls, their texture uneven and wrong.

Her hand trembled as she continued, scanning deeper. The fetuses came into clear view, and Shoko’s stomach turned. Their forms were distorted—limbs too long, spines twisted unnaturally. The development was horrifyingly advanced, organs forming far too quickly for a typical gestation. Their growth was accelerating at an inhuman pace, the implications rattling her composure.

Shoko forced herself to document everything, measuring the abnormal structures and recording the fetuses’ sizes and shapes. The tendrils appeared to be feeding on your body, leeching energy to fuel their grotesque growth.

Once she finished, Shoko printed her findings, wiped your stomach clean, and disinfected the equipment, her mind racing.

Disposing of her gloves and sanitizing, and stepped into the hallway, grabbing both men by their hair and dragging them into the adjacent room.

Nanami, guilt weighing him down, didn’t resist.

“What the fuck?” She hissed, her voice razor-sharp.

“We… found out today,” Nanami admitted, his tone heavy with regret.

“Found out what?” Shoko snapped.

Gojo yelled, rubbing his head once she let go. “We didn’t know she was pregnant! She had a hysterectomy!”

Shoko stared at them, unblinking. “You’re telling me the two of you didn’t even know she was pregnant until today?”

Nanami spoke, his voice laced with remorse. “We didn’t notice until she left, and we found her in Norway today.”

Shoko snorted, folding her arms. “No wonder she left you both. I feel zero sympathy.”

Gojo's voice cracked. “Is she okay?”

Shoko sighed, crossing her arms. “She’s stable. Fainted from a panic attack.”

Both men let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

“She’s carrying twins,” Shoko continued, her tone unnervingly calm. “You’re both biologically their dads.”

For a moment, both men were silent, their faces slack with disbelief. They knew it, but confirmation was something else. Then, like a switch flipping, Gojo’s mouth stretched into a grin that looked halfway deranged. Nanami’s jaw relaxed, his hands twitching at his sides, but neither of them spoke.

“I need some of her blood to understand somethings better,” Shoko said, more as a formality than a request.

Both men nodded, and Shoko walked back in. Disinfecting her hands again, she donned a glove and tied a Velcro wrap around your arm, eyeing where your vein was. She reached for a syringe, muttering, “Just a quick blood test.”

The air shimmered around her, heatwaves dancing like a mirage, but Shoko knew better. That wasn’t heat.

It was Gojo’s Infinity.

No, not his. The twins’.

She didn’t even get close to your skin with the needle.

A translucent, shimmering blade—pure Ratio—slashed through the air, nicking her forearm. Blood trickled down her wrist. Shoko hissed, jerking back. The blade dissolved into nothing, but its message was clear.

“You’re not even born yet,” she hissed wide-eyed, wiping the cut with a gauze dipped in disinfectant and covering it with a band-aid.

The twins had surrounded their mother with layers of Infinity and Ratio—a fortress no one could breach. And who could blame them? They’d inherited Gojo’s paranoia and Nanami’s quiet wrath—a deadly combination.

Shoko exhaled sharply and strode to the infirmary door, yanking it open. “Get in here,” she barked, her surprise at their protective instincts momentarily overshadowed by the urgency of the situation.

Both leaning against the opposite wall snapped to attention.

“What’s wrong?” Gojo asked as they walked in, his voice soft.

“Where do I start?” Shoko crossed her arms, glaring at them. “She’s got Infinity wrapped tighter than your damn blindfold, and every time I get close, your kids try to fillet me with Ratio. They’re defending her like I’m the enemy. Care to explain why your kids are homicidal maniacs before they’re even born?”

The men exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting to confusion. Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, while Gojo fidgeted, his usual swagger completely gone.

“We… unintentionally ignored her for months and were sleeping with only each other,” Nanami admitted, his voice heavy with regret.

“What?” Shoko snapped, disbelief etched on her face.

“Then we kind of chased her around the world and abducted her,” Gojo murmured, his voice barely audible.

Shoko stared at them, unblinking.

“She fainted while she was angry at us, and we didn’t know what to do, so we brought her here,” Nanami said quietly, his guilt evident.

“So you two were too busy screwing each other to notice she was pregnant for almost six months?!” Shoko spat, her words venomous. “And now she’s here, unconscious, with two ticking time bombs in her womb, and you’re acting like—”

The room trembled. The lights flickered.

The twins weren’t happy.

“Stop yelling,” Gojo hissed, glancing at you, his six eyes scanning your womb with a mix of concern and disbelief. The sight of the pulsating energies sent a chill down his spine, and he felt a surge of protective instincts.

“At fucking six months, your unborns are already in control of their inherited techniques,” Shoko threw up her hands in exasperation. “I can’t even get close enough to help her because they are trying to shish kebab me!”

“I’m sorry, what?” Nanami asked, confusion etched onto his face as he tried to process the chaotic energy radiating from your womb.

“Yeah, I need you both to calm them down so that I can draw blood,” Shoko said, her frustration palpable.

“It can’t be that bad,” Gojo lied to keep her calm, his six eyes wide with a mix of awe and horror. The cursed signatures were unlike anything he’d ever seen—a tapestry of life and malice intertwined.

Shoko handed him a blunt scalpel, gesturing for him to get it near your skin. Gojo obliged, his heart racing, only for the scalpel to explode into a shower of confetti, leaving him bewildered.

Another Ratio blade materialized, this one sharper and angrier, hovering dangerously close to Shoko’s face. She froze, her heart racing as she watched the blade shimmer ominously. The air felt thick with tension, and she didn’t dare move until it dissipated, leaving her breathless.

“Okay, Gojo, you talk to them. I’ll try to suppress their energy,” Nanami sprang into action.

Gojo’s eyes darted between the twins and you, his mind racing. He spoke in a voice surprisingly gentle, though the fear in his eyes betrayed him. “Hey, little ones! Daddy’s home…”

He was immediately cut off.

Gojo felt the pressure of Infinity tightening around him, a suffocating embrace that made him gasp. “Okay, okay! I get it! You don’t like me!” Is this how his enemies felt?!

Nanami, meanwhile, was struggling to keep his own breath steady as he felt the cold edge of the Ratio blade hovering dangerously close to his throat. “We’re not here to hurt her! We just want to help!” he pleaded, his voice calm despite the fear coursing through him.

The babies' techniques, while highly deadly, were not as powerful as their fathers' due to their inexperience. However, the men were unable to use their own techniques, as doing so could potentially harm both you and the babies, further deepening the babies' distrust of them.

Shoko, sensing the rising tension, took a deep breath. “Listen, I know you’re scared, but I need to take a little bit of blood to help your mom. If you let me, I promise I’ll make sure she’s okay,” her tone softening as she tried to connect with the twins.

The air shimmered with their energy, and for a moment, it felt like the world was holding its breath. Then, as if sensing Shoko’s sincerity, the pressure began to ease, the Ratio blades retracting from Nanami’s neck.

“See? We’re all on the same side here,” Shoko said, her heart racing as she took a cautious step forward.

The twins seemed to hesitate, their energy fluctuating as they-probably-processed her words. Shoko’s gaze flicked to your belly, and she felt a strange connection, as if the life within you was responding to her plea.

"Just... let her do her job.” Gojo said, his voice trembling slightly.

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, Shoko felt a flicker of hope.

But then, another Ratio blade materialized, this one sharper and angrier. Shoko froze, watching it come for her head at lightning speed, paralyzed until Nanami yanked her back from its path. The wall cracked where it hit, then disappeared.

“Not only can they hear everything, but they are skilled at deceiving too,” Nanami observed, while Gojo sweated bullets.

“I didn’t even get to finish my dark chocolate mousse,” she muttered bitterly.

The air stilled.

Shoko blinked. The oppressive energy softened, just a fraction. She frowned, glancing at your belly. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Gojo asked, tinged with desperation.

“Oh, no DNA test needed here, obviously,” Shoko said with a roll of her eyes, pointing at your stomach. “They’re just responding to food, like their fathers, craving dark chocolate.”

Nanami’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile.

Gojo’s grin was instantaneous, bright and smug. “Our babies have good taste already.”

“They’re trying to kill me, and you’re proud?” Shoko glared at them, incredulous.

“They’re protective,” Nanami corrected, his voice softening. “Just like their mother.”

Shoko sighed and turned to your stomach. “If you let me live, I’ll prescribe your mom that mousse.”

The twins relaxed immediately, the shimmering barriers disappearing. Shoko sighed in relief, rubbing her temples. “She’s going to hate waking up to your faces,” she muttered.

Gojo and Nanami’s eyes were fixed on you, guilt and love etched into every line of their faces.

As Shoko drew the blood with careful precision, she discarded her gloves, quickly jotted down your prescription, and walked out of earshot. The men followed wide-eyed, still processing the whirlwind of emotions and revelations, their protective instincts for you igniting anew.

Shoko had to interrupt before the men could wrangle their students and/or adopted kids—they kept insisting weren't— for a baby shower. “Before either of you starts celebrating your shared fatherhood, let me be clear: this is not good news.”

Gojo’s grin faltered. “What do you mean, not good? Twins are... good, right? Twice the… fun?”

“Shut up, Gojo,” Nanami muttered, bracing himself for whatever Shoko had to say.

“Medical science would deem it impossible— double fertilization combined with heteropaternal superfecundation ,” Shoko said, her tone clipped but deliberate.

Gojo frowned, looking genuinely offended. “You’re using big words to confuse me on purpose.”

Shoko’s hand twitched like she was debating beating him with the file. “It means,” she snapped, “two or more eggs are fertilized by sperm from different fathers during the same cycle, which itself is extremely rare for humans. But in this case, one egg was fertilized by both of you. Twice. It’s unprecedented and unnatural.”

Gojo opened his mouth, but Shoko silenced him with a glare. She continued, her voice growing sharper with every word. “Not only are you both going to be fathers of twins, but you are also going to be the double fathers of both of them. So in lesser words, the fetuses have two fathers each.”

Gojo blurted out before he could stop himself, “Oh hell nah. That sounds weird.”

The words hung in the air like a lead balloon. He clamped his mouth shut immediately, eyes darting toward Nanami, who looked one second away from slamming him through the nearest wall.

Shoko continued, glaring at Gojo, daring him to interrupt her again. “Their genetic makeup is unstable. There’s too much DNA, and their growth is accelerating at a rate that’s anything but normal. If this continues, they’ll die before they’re born. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, they’re feeding on her body to fuel their development, so there’s a small chance she might not survive either.”

Her lips twitched into a humorless smirk as she finally addressed Gojo’s blurted comment. “While it’s insensitive, you’re not wrong. It’s horrifying. It has never happened before, and science doesn’t even make sense for it to ever be possible. And I’m saying this with all due sensitivity, but your lusts and special grade techniques led us here. I’m deducing Kento’s technique did not just explore but ‘created’ series of openings, while both your RCTs regrew her entire uterus.”

She then thought aloud. "Although one thing doesn’t make sense to me. Techniques don’t work outside of one's mind’s control. So, tell me: were either of you thinking about having kids at the time? Not even trying or planning, just thinking—even fleetingly?” Shoko did not want to know about her longtime friends' breeding kinks, but she was forced to, and the look on their faces answered it for her.

Nanami’s face burned red, his eyes glued to the floor like he was begging it to swallow him whole. Gojo’s face twisted into something between a grimace and a horrified laugh; without his sunglasses, his eyes glowed unnaturally while he muttered under his breath about wanting to bleach his ears.

Nanami’s voice cracked when he finally spoke. “Can we get an abortion?”

Shoko’s glare silenced him instantly. “First of all, that’s not your decision. Second, given the resources she has, if she hasn’t gotten it herself, I don’t think she will agree. Third, she’s too far along. Japan doesn’t allow abortions at this stage unless her life is demonstrably at risk—and dragging her through the judicial system in her condition isn’t exactly ideal.”

Her voice rose as she leaned near the window, glaring at both of them. “We would either have to prove you two are deadbeats or claim assault by someone else—which you won’t be able to prove given the extreme amount of both your DNA involved. Or, we could reveal her unnatural pregnancy to the judicial system and, by extension, the public. Neither option ends well for her. Especially now that she’s already a meme, thanks to you two. Also, the twins will put up a fight, as you already saw.”

“If she agrees, can’t you do it without involving the court?” Gojo asked, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, his bravado nowhere in sight.

Shoko looked like she was holding back the urge to throw her stethoscope at him. “Do I look like a gynecologist to you? And even if I were, I wouldn’t specialize in tendril pregnancies; as I already said, no science or curse makes sense for them to ever happen. Any doctor who’d agree wouldn’t be able to do it without the higher-ups knowing.”

Nanami pleaded, “We can’t just let her die.”

“No shit,” Shoko hissed. “You think I’m twiddling my thumbs while she wastes away?”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, relaxed her shoulders and continued. “I have a med school senior. She’s a practicing midwife with a curse technique that’s helped sorcerers with high-risk deliveries, strictly off the records. I’ll try to track her down, but don’t hold your breath. She’s not exactly easy to find, and even if I do find her, there’s no guarantee she’ll know anything about this.”

“How long until the option for abortion is off the table, not by law but medically?” Nanami asked again.

Shoko sighed; she was getting too old for these Halfwit Sorcerer Supremes . “I won’t know until her blood work comes back. Her hormone levels and vitals will give us a better timeline. For now, take her home. Keep her warm, fed, and calm. If that means leaving her alone so you two don’t stress her out, then do it. Call me if there’s even a hint of something wrong or if she doesn’t wake up by morning. I’ll work on contacting the midwife.”

She handed them the file with the ultrasound images, prescriptions, and a text with the video of the heartbeats and the twins moving—along with the unsettling tendrils—to their phones.

Reaching for her pack of cigarettes, she shook one loose. “And Gojo, you’re the reason I’ve quit smoking more times than I can count. Congrats on ruining another attempt.”

Gojo’s face fell. “I’m sorry for that, Shoko, but when will she wake up?”

What doctor can predict this? Did they think she was a god?!

She chose to take the high road this time and refrain from beating Gojo with a bedpan, even though the virtuous path felt overrated. “She’ll likely wake up in a few hours,” Shoko said, already lighting her cigarette. “Keep her warm, and maybe invest in a foot massager—her ankles are swelling. And for the love of God, don’t argue in front of her.”

She exhaled a plume of smoke and waved them off. “Go. Get her out of my office before I chain smoke the whole pack.”

Ijichi adjusted his glasses, juggling his clipboard and the endless stream of stress-induced thoughts racing through his head. The courtyard was quiet for once—no sorcerers, no chaos.

Until Gojo Satoru appeared out of buttfuck nowhere, holding a woman in his arms.

"Hey, champ," Gojo said casually, as if he weren’t carrying a heavily pregnant, unconscious woman. "Hold this for me."

Ijichi barely had time to stammer out a "Wha—" before Gojo dumped you into his arms. The clipboard clattered to the ground as he instinctively caught you, nearly dropping you when he realized who you were. He kept up with the business news, so it was easy for him to recognize the CEO of the company whose shares he’d buy.

"Wait—wait, Gojo-san, is this—? Why is she—?"

"Careful," Gojo interrupted, stretching his arms above his head as if he’d just finished a yoga class. "If you drop her, I’ll have to drop you. And you’re not as soft." He finished massaging his left shoulder, a casual gesture that belied the weight of the situation. Honestly, Gojo had no problem carrying you; he could hold you for hours without breaking a sweat. Ijichi, on the other hand, seemed to manage just fine with your heavily pregnant and limp body, but it was clear he couldn’t do it as effortlessly or for as long as Gojo could.

Ijichi’s brain short-circuited. "I—I need to inform Yaga-sensei about this! You’re not allowed on campus! And—and Nanami-san is suspended with you!" He looked around, realizing Nanami wasn’t with Gojo.

Gojo leaned down, eyes glinting ominously. "Do you really wanna tattle right now, Ijichi? While you’re holding my very unconscious wife?"

"Your wife!" Ijichi almost dropped you again.

"Yeah, surprise! We’ve been married for years. Both me and Nanami. And—oh!—as you can see, she’s carrying our kids. Plural. Twins." Gojo said it all with the tone of someone announcing the weather, completely unbothered.

Ijichi froze. "Nanami-san is... also... married to her?"

"Yup." Gojo grinned, leaning in just enough to make Ijichi uncomfortable. "You didn’t know? Thought you were supposed to be good at details." Ijichi, bless his anxiety-ridden heart, didn’t use social media like Shoko much, nor did he have time to watch TV.

"But why is she unconscious?" Ijichi asked, panic rising in his voice.

Gojo’s grin didn’t waver. "Don’t worry about it."

"But—"

"I said don’t worry about it, Ijichi!" Gojo’s tone turned cold, and for a moment, Ijichi swore the air around him dropped ten degrees.

Before he could spiral any further, the low rumble of an engine broke through the tension. Ijichi turned to see Nanami pulling up in a Jujutsu Tech car, looking calm as ever, despite the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be here either.

Nanami stepped out of the car and opened the backseat door, his expression unreadable. Ijichi felt his pulse quicken—a mix of fear and… something else . He pushed that thought deep down where it belonged.

"Everything’s ready," Nanami said simply, his eyes flicking to Ijichi and narrowing slightly in silent greeting.

Gojo immediately took you back, cradling you to his chest. "Thanks for the babysitting, Iji. You’re a real pal."

Ijichi opened his mouth to protest, but the words got stuck in his throat when Gojo paused and gave him a long, considering look.

"Oh, and by the way..." Gojo’s voice dropped, his smile turning sharp. "Whatever you’re thinking about Nanami. Stop. Now!"

"I—I don’t know what you mean!" Ijichi stammered, his face burning.

"Sure you don’t," Gojo said, winking before sliding into the backseat, laying you carefully.

Nanami adjusted your legs inside the car and, once satisfied, closed the door. He then gave Ijichi a brief nod—neutral, professional, and utterly devastating —before sliding into the driver’s seat. The car pulled away, leaving Ijichi standing in the courtyard, clutching his clipboard and holding his sanity together with duct tape and a prayer.

As the car disappeared into the distance, the realization hit him.

Gojo had dumped you on him just to keep him from calling Yaga.

"I hate my job," Ijichi muttered, staring at the horizon like it owed him an apology.

Gojo now sat in the back seat, cradling your unconscious body. You were wrapped in his thick jacket and a blanket they’d swiped from Jujutsu Tech, as though he were afraid you’d vanish again. His six eyes scanned your face every few seconds, hyper-focused on your shallow breathing, his expression grim as if he were trying to will you back to consciousness with sheer willpower.

Your ring was back on your finger, curtsy of Nanami, who did not trust Ijichi or anyone to drive his pregnant and unconscious wife, so he generously had Gojo distract Ijichi while he hijacked—er, borrowed—a Jujutsu Tech car, now driving with the intensity of someone prepared to ratio the entire road. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, eyes darting to every car that dared come too close.

“If one more person cuts me off, I’m pulling over and filing a formal complaint!” He fumed.

“Breathe, Kento,” Gojo muttered, not looking up. “Her vitals haven��t changed. She’s fine for now.”

Nanami’s glare flashed in the rearview mirror. “If she’s fine, it’s despite us, not because of us.”

Gojo didn’t come up with a comeback; Nanami was right. Now, even as they tried to protect you, it felt like too little, too late.

They hadn’t made it more than five minutes down the road when a rusted-out pickup truck swerved dangerously close to their car. The driver—a sunburnt man in a baseball cap and sunglasses—leaned out the window to yell something unintelligible, laughing with his family like he was auditioning for a role in Trailer Park Boys .

Nanami’s eye twitched. “That’s it!”

He slammed the brakes, throwing Gojo and your unconscious body slightly forward, though Gojo immediately stabilized you with one arm. Nanami threw the car into park, blocking the truck’s path, and stepped out, stalking forward with the kind of intensity that could make a toddler cry.

The man squinted at Nanami’s approaching figure. “Hey, buddy, what’s your problem?” he hollered, clearly oblivious to the danger he was in.

“My problem?” Nanami repeated, his voice calm in a way that made Gojo wince. “My problem is you driving like an inebriated possum during rush hour.”

The man’s wife, sitting in the passenger seat, tugged on his arm. “Harold, don’t. He looks like he’s about to recite the Geneva Conventions at you.”

Ignoring her, Harold waved a dismissive hand. “I was just driving, man. Relax.”

Nanami’s cursed energy flared, the faint outline of ratio lines shimmering in the air. “Relax? My pregnant wife is in that car! Do you understand the basic principles of road etiquette? Turn signals exist for a reason! Speed limits are not suggestions! And—”

“Oh, no,” Gojo muttered, about to pull out his phone to record. “Baby and Shoko will wanna see this.”

As Nanami continued his tirade, Harold’s eyes drifted to the backseat of their car, where no woman was in sight but Gojo was sitting, half in shadow. The six eyes glinted faintly in the dim light, and Harold’s face paled.

“Harold, we need to leave,” his wife whispered, her eyes locked on Gojo. “This uppity blonde man must have run someone over, and now he’s haunted by the ghost of the man and hallucinating his pregnant wife, who probably died in the accident.”

Harold’s daughter peeked out from the back of the truck. “Momma, I think the ghost is smiling.”

Gojo waved at them cheerfully, his grin unsettlingly wide, completely oblivious to the family’s theories.

Harold didn’t wait for more. He slammed on the gas, the truck screeching back and away. Nanami watched it disappear with a look of pure disgust.

“Cowards,” he muttered, walking back to the car.

“Did you just ratio their family bonding?” Gojo asked, carding his fingers through your hair absentmindedly as Nanami climbed back in.

“Shut up,” Nanami snapped lowly, though he adjusted the car heater for you before pulling back onto the road, his expression a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement.

When they arrived, Nanami parked with the precision of a driving instructor, then quickly jumped out to open the passenger door. Gojo scooped you up, wrapping you snugly in a blanket.

Inside the penthouse building, Gojo carried you into the elevator, pulling you closer for warmth. Nanami followed closely behind, pressing the button and crossing his arms as he scrutinized Gojo’s every move.

“You’re holding her wrong,” Nanami said, his tone disapproving.

Gojo glanced down at you, then back at Nanami. “I’m literally the strongest. I think I can handle holding my unconscious wife.”

“MY WIFE’S head isn’t supported properly,” Nanami countered, stepping closer. “If you drop her—”

Gojo scoffed. “Drop her? Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“Someone incompetent,” Nanami replied coolly, reaching out. “Give her to me.”

Gojo shifted back, holding you tighter. “No!”

“You’re holding her like a sack of rice,” Nanami pressed, his voice rising. “Just hand her over!”

“Over my dead body. Try me, Kento!”

Nanami’s hand stopped just short of Gojo, an invisible barrier humming between them. He scowled. “Lower it!”

“No way. Look how comfortable she looks with me.”

“She’s unconscious!”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open on the fifth floor instead of the penthouse. An elderly woman stood there, clutching a bag of birdseed like it was a grenade. Nanami recognized her immediately: Keiko Yamada, the retired CEO and founder of Yamada Arms, the most infamous weapons manufacturer in Japan.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene: two men clearly arguing, the blonde mid-rant, the white-haired one beaming-unhinged, and a heavily pregnant woman swaddled like a mummy in a blanket.

“Oh my God!” She screeched, clutching the bag like a shield she wasn’t scared to use as a weapon. “You’ve killed her!”

“Ma’am, it’s not what it looks like,” Nanami began, stepping forward with his hands raised.

“No, you both were going to dispose of her body!” She yelled, pointing an accusatory finger.

“Ma’am, she’s alive. She just fainted—”

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, you corporate goon!” Keiko cut him off, her voice sharp enough to slice titanium. “This looks like a murder cover-up! I didn’t build an arms empire just to live next to lunatics who can’t even hide a body properly!”

From behind her, her husband Gerald—a retired oil tycoon—peered over her shoulder. “Keiko, aren’t these two from the weird throuple from the top floor penthouse?”

She turned on him like a hawk spotting prey. “And? That doesn’t make this any less suspicious, Gerald!” Her finger jabbed toward Gojo. “Why is that one smiling like he’s auditioning for a toothpaste ad? He’s clearly a psychopath!”

“Hi, Keiko-san!” Gojo chirped, unfazed. “Nice evening for bird feeding, huh?”

“Stay back, you freak!” she yelped, clutching her chest as if he’d personally threatened her life. “Gerald, call the police before they silence me forever!”

Before Nanami could offer another explanation, more neighbors began to gather, drawn by the commotion.

From the doorway of 5B, a venture capitalist with a permanent scowl muttered, “What now? Another polycule cult meeting?”

“No, it’s a crime scene!” Keiko snapped.

In 5C, an eccentric novelist known for writing conspiracy thrillers poked her head out. “Finally! Something juicy! Who’s the victim? Is it ritualistic? I need deets for my next book!”

Across the hall, an up-and-coming YouTuber joined the crowd, sipping an energy drink. “Hey, can someone livestream this? I’ll donate half my ad revenue to charity.”

As the elevator doors began to close, Nanami swiftly slapped the “Open” button. “Ma’am, she’s our wife. She fainted because she’s pregnant. Here’s the medical prescription.” He presented the document from Shoko like a peace offering, holding it out with a sense of urgency.

Keiko squinted at the paper, then huffed dismissively. “I don’t have my glasses, but this still feels forged.”

“Oh no, she just has bad handwriting—our doctor,” Gojo chimed in.

“You are not helping!” Nanami hissed at him, then turned back to Keiko, who was already halfway through dialing the police. “She’s our wife!” He pulled the blanket down from your face, revealing you more clearly.

“Oh,” Keiko said, her voice softening as recognition dawned. “It is her. The one who sometimes feeds the birds with me. Gerald, she’s the one who bought out the building and renovated the multilevel gardens.”

Gerald leaned closer, nodding sagely. “Oh yeah, she’s the one who’s always respectful and driven.”

Keiko’s expression shifted again, her voice rising in alarm. “Oh god, you both killed the richest person in the building! Philanthropic trillionaires aren’t supposed to die like this!”

“Just look at her breathing!” Nanami pointed to your rising and falling stomach, desperation creeping into his voice.

Keiko’s demeanor changed instantly. She adjusted her cardigan, suddenly the picture of decorum. “Well, you two still look like fools. She’s pregnant with your baby! Show some responsibility!”

“Twins, and thank you, ma’am,” Nanami replied, his tone clipped but firm. “We’ll take your advice into consideration.”

Behind her, the neighbors whispered among themselves; their curiosity piqued.

“Not only ours, but Norway’s judicial system is also garbage if they got out on bail so fast.”

“There’s no bail in Norway. I think one of their relatives proved she was married to them,” someone clarified.

“Whatever, I still think the taller one is definitely a sociopath. A month ago, he was trying to eat the ice cream cone from its bottom,” one muttered, casting a wary glance at Gojo.

“They’re probably stealing their wife’s money under the guise of household expenses. I mean, look at the blonde—glasses, calm, no drama? Suspicious. Nobody’s that chill unless they’re hiding something big,” another chimed in, their tone dripping with the kind of skepticism you reserve for MLM pitches and influencers selling miracle teas.

As the elevator doors began to close again, Keiko jabbed her foot in and stepped inside with Gerald, unwilling to miss her birdfeeding schedule.

As the crowd of neighbors dispersed, their murmurs fading into the background, Gojo’s attention remained solely on you. He hummed a soft tune, a melody that seemed to wrap around the moment like a warm embrace. With a gentle shift, he cradled you in one arm, his gaze tender as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face. His fingers lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary, a silent promise of something.

Nanami’s expression was a mix of concern and admiration. He watched Gojo with a quiet intensity, his heart swelling at the sight of his partner’s gentle care. As Gojo’s fingers grazed your skin, Nanami felt a rush of warmth flood through him.

With a soft sigh, Nanami stepped closer and gently readjusted the blanket over you again, ensuring you were cocooned in warmth. The way he did it was almost reverent.

As he tucked the blanket in, he caught a glimpse of two tiny feet kicking playfully beneath the fabric before they disappeared again. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a mix of joy and protectiveness swelling within him. In that moment, he felt the weight of the world lift just a little, thinking of what could have been but couldn’t be.

Nanami’s eyes flicked to Gojo, who, by the looks of it, seemed to be thinking the same thing. In that brief exchange, a silent understanding passed between them. It was a look that spoke of late-night conversations, whispered dreams, and the promise of a future together.

For a fleeting second, the world outside faded away. It was just the three of you, bound together by love that was fierce yet tender, at least for the husbands it was.

The doors opened for retirees to get off, but before they could leave, Keiko turned sharply toward Nanami. “One more thing! Tell your smiling menace to stop putting up weird messages in the elevator!”

Gojo’s grin widened. “I thought they were motivational!”

“Motivational?!?” She snapped, incredulous. “Day 3’s message literally said, ‘We’ve embraced chaos; why haven’t you?’ You’re lucky I haven’t reported you to the H.O.A!”

After the elderly couple exited on the eleventh floor garden, the elevator doors finally closed, and the ride continued in silence. Nanami rubbed his temples, muttering about moving to a less populated building. Meanwhile, Gojo hummed cheerfully, still cradling you like a trophy he’d won in an argument.

“Told you I’m better at carrying her,” Gojo said, his tone teasing.

Nanami didn’t reply, but the vein in his forehead throbbed visibly as the elevator dinged again, signaling their arrival at the penthouse.

“Next time, you’re carrying the file,” Nanami muttered, stepping out first.

“Sure thing, Kento,” Gojo replied brightly. “And I’ll carry her again too.”

Nanami grumbled under his breath about Gojo’s “circus act,” exasperation evident in his voice.

“I’m telling her you were mean to me,” Gojo called after him.

Nanami sighed, running his thumb over the front door lock to open it.

Inside the penthouse was quiet and oppressive, with the echoes of their mistakes embedded in the walls. The two men moved like shadows—quiet, efficient, and desperately overcompensating. Shoko’s earlier words before they left echoed like a divine decree: “ Do better. ”

Gojo laid you down on the custom-engineered NASA mattress like you were made of glass, his hands trembling despite the ridiculous confidence he usually radiated. The Hermès blanket was pulled to your shoulders with a reverence that bordered on absurdity. He whispered, “Left side, like Shoko said,” as though you’d wake up to applaud him.

Nanami adjusted the smart thermostat with military dad precision. “22.5°C. Optimal conditions for recovery,” he muttered, half to himself. His eyes darted to you, scanning for signs of discomfort, and then back to the thermostat like it held the answers to the exam he didn’t prepare for.

"Gojo adjusted the blanket. Then readjusted it. Then checked if it was symmetrical. It wasn’t.

Then he obsessively rotated the $10,000 glass of Evian. “Hydration is key,” he mumbled, quoting Shoko’s notes.

“Stop touching the glass,” Nanami snapped.

You didn’t even drink Evian.

Twenty minutes in, Nanami was pacing, his phone screen glowing with articles from some Rich People Pregnancies app. He squinted at a section titled High-Risk Multiples: What Not to Do.

“Her ankles,” he barked suddenly.

Gojo blinked. “What about them?”

“Elevate them.”

“They’re already elevated. Anti-gravity pillow. State-of-the-art.”

“Higher,” Nanami insisted, pulling out aloe and cucumber-infused orthopedic pillows from his closet.

Gojo frowned but complied, propping your legs higher with the focus of a Jenga champion.

“Shoko said hydration’s more important." Gojo then proceeded to stick a platinum straw near your lips.

“She’s unconscious. Stop hydrating her like she’s a plant.”

“Hydrated plants thrive.”

You were unconscious. Gojo was undeterred.

An hour later, Gojo adjusted the thermostat by 0.1°C. Nanami glared but said nothing. This was war.

Then Nanami’s phone dinged. He read the text from Shoko aloud:

Shoko: “Unless her feet are blue or she’s not breathing, stop texting me.”

Gojo snatched the phone, typing back, “What about her breathing? It sounds shallow.”

The reply was instant: “It’s called sleeping, Gojo. She’s fine.”

Sometime later, Gojo was now massaging your ankles with La Mer Concentrate Body Oil, watching a prenatal massage video on YouTube, and following it’s instructions diligently.

The doorbell rang, and Gojo was at the door before the sound finished echoing. The delivery woman shrieked as he appeared, albino hair and unhinged Cerulean eyes glowing under the dim hallway light. He took the packages—a deluxe foot massager, an industrial-grade humidifier, a bunch of prenatal supplements and snacks—and disappeared before she could process his existence.

“Look at this beauty,” he said, holding up the foot massager like it was the Ark of the Covenant. “Wi-Fi and AI enabled. Video calls. Top-of-the-line.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow. “You bought a foot massager she can Zoom from?”

“She’s a trillionaire. Standards.”

Because for some reason you’d need to call Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento via your foot massager while having your feet inside the said machine.

Not that you were complaining. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

Meanwhile, Shoko sat in her office, rubbing her temples. Her phone buzzed with another text from Nanami—the third in as many minutes while Gojo kept spam calling her.

She groaned, opening the message.

Nanami: “Is it normal for her fingers to swell too? And can I... massage them?”

She groaned, typing back a quick response: “Yes, massage is fine. Stop texting me.”

As she hit send, Shoko decided to stop answering their calls, but Gojo was relentless. He appeared in her office door, holding up a monogrammed foot spa.

“Shoko, this one or the one with LAN?”

Shoko didn’t even look up. “Leave, or I’ll prescribe myself cyanide.”

He grinned, backing out of the room. “Love you too, Shoko!”

The door slammed behind him. Shoko lit a cigarette, muttering, “She’s carrying twins, and I’m the one who needs prenatal care.”

Suddenly, a box of nicotine gum in various flavors flew through her window, narrowly missing her head and landing with an unceremonious thud on her desk. She ducked instinctively, the cigarette nearly falling from her lips.

"Shoko!" Voice rang out from somewhere unseen. "I wasn’t sure which flavor you’d like, so I got them all. Some are kind my wife—your idol—liked when she quit. Even got the nasty sugar-free ones!" Gojo's unmistakable laugh echoed as he sprinted away, knowing full well Shoko would beat his ass if she caught him.

Shoko exhaled sharply, glaring at the absurdly oversized box, which looked like it belonged in a warehouse, not her desk. A whole six-month survival pack. She grabbed the cigarette, put it out with a forceful twist, and tore the box open. Rows of neon-colored packets stared back at her.

Before she could yell out the window, Gojo’s head popped in through another one. "Do you prefer mint or cinnamon? Personally, I’m a mango kinda guy."

She whipped her stapler at him, missing by inches as he teleported away with a ballerina spin, and—was that glitter?

Yes. He left behind a trail of glitter that floated down like snow.

Shoko pinched the bridge of her nose. "This man is going to be a father," she muttered.

Her eyes fell back to the gum. She unwrapped two pieces, popped them in her mouth, and chewed like it was Gojo’s neck between her teeth.

Hours passed in a blur of obsessive adjustments and whispered arguments. Nanami cursed as he spilled truffle-oil-infused electrolyte water on the $15,000 humidifier. Gojo muttered about cortisol levels and prenatal massage techniques, kneeling at your feet and fiddling with the massager.

“She made a noise,” Gojo said suddenly, freezing.

“Call Shoko.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, she will beat me.”

Nanami dialed anyway. Shoko picked up, growling, “If she’s not actively dying, I swear—”

“She breathed weird,” Nanami said.

“Is it shallow?”

“No.”

“Is she wheezing?”

“No,” Nanami admitted.

She wished she was a special grade just to be able to knock these two out for one night's sleep. Or maybe she could just give Yuki-san a call.

Shoko sighed. “Unless the noise was ‘I’m dying,’ leave me alone.”

The line went dead.

“I will leave you behind if she catches upto us,” Gojo feared for Shoko’s wrath.

At ten pm, Gojo watched the grainy ultrasound video on his phone. “You ever think about how we got here?”

Nanami didn’t look up. “Every day.”

Gojo sighed, his gaze drifting to your face. “She was pregnant, and we didn’t even notice.”

Nanami’s jaw tightened. “Not noticing won’t kill her right now. Incompetence might.”

Gojo didn’t respond, but his grip on your hand tightened.

In the silence, the foot massager hummed, and for once, neither of them had anything clever to say.

Around midnight, Nanami’s phone dinged.

Shoko created a group chat: Weird Twins & Their Weirder Fathers

Shoko added Nanami Kento

Shoko added Gojo Satoru

Shoko: Hormones are wild. Fetuses are fine. 15 days until termination’s off the table.

Gojo renamed the chat: We Are Your Daddies! <3

Shoko: Focus on keeping her calm when she wakes up, she’s very stressed. And for God’s sake, have her eat something; she’s slightly malnourished.

Nanami: Suggestions?

Gojo: Whatcha guys talkin about? ( ͡°👅 ͡°) What’s ‘malnourished’? Wait, I’ll google it.

Shoko: Figure it out. That’s your job, isn’t it?

Gojo: Don’t ignore me!!! (╯ ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)╯┻━┻

Nanami: Typing…

Shoko: Stop texting me or I’ll block you both!

Gojo: She’s got a point!

Gojo: We love you, Shoko! <3

Nanami set the phone down, glaring at Gojo with a deadpan expression.

Gojo rolled his eyes, muttering, “And you’re boring.”

Sometime later, the banished chaos duo, sat on either side of you, staring at your unconscious form like guilty dogs caught chewing up the couch.

Gojo broke the silence first, leaning forward to whisper, "She’s gonna be pissed when she wakes up."

Nanami didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the faint rise and fall of your chest. His normally pristine shirt was rumpled, the first two buttons undone like he’d given up halfway through pretending he had it together.

They hadn’t even noticed you were pregnant. Not until you left—six weeks after you'd vanished from their lives, and after you’d spent months dropping hints that would’ve been obvious to anyone who wasn’t terminally stupid or busy screwing the other terminally stupid.

---

You were sitting across from Gojo and Nanami in a low-lit café. It was your third meeting—people might say a “date,” but they still didn’t know your last name, let alone what you did for a living. The anonymity suited you. Jeans, a jacket, and plain tee didn’t scream “CEO.”

Nanami stirred his coffee. “You’re remarkably vague about yourself.”

Gojo grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “Adds to the mystery. Bet you’re secretly a ninja.” His English had dramatically improved; like it was never awful.

You shrugged. “Something like that.”

The dream shifted. You were walking through your office—a sprawling high-rise with glass walls and panoramic city views. Your team buzzed around you, discussing quarterly earnings, new launches, and global partnerships.

“Boss, the board’s waiting,” someone called.

“On my way,” you replied, stepping into the elevator.

The doors opened into a massive event hall. The product launch was underway—your company’s newest gaming console, sleek and revolutionary. The logo of your labor of love flashed across the screen, and the tagline hit like a mic drop: Built for legends, by legends .

At the end of the hall, two familiar faces stared back at you.

Nanami looked stunned, his tie slightly askew. Gojo’s jaw dropped.

“You?” he blurted. “You’re the CEO of—”

“Surprise,” you said, hoping to disappear.

The dream twisted into a nightmare.

The hall dissolved into a shadowy void. Nanami and Gojo loomed over you, their faces distorted. Their voices, once warm, turned cold and accusing.

“You lied to us,” Nanami growled, his hand reaching for you.

Gojo’s laugh was sharp, echoing like a knife scraping glass. “How could you keep this from us? From me? I know all, sweetheart.”

Their figures stretched, unnatural. Their eyes glowed, and their hands clawed toward your stomach.

“They need to die,” Nanami said, his voice like gravel.

“You can’t keep them from us,” Gojo hissed.

You turned to run, but the floor shifted, turning into a sticky, pulsating mass that clung to your feet.

“No!” you screamed, clutching your belly.

In the penthouse, your body twitched violently on the bed. Your hands clenched the blanket, and your breathing hitched. Gojo, sitting beside you, froze.

“She’s muttering,” Nanami said, pacing at the foot of the bed. “What’s she saying?”

Gojo leaned closer, his hand brushing your sweat-dampened forehead. Your lips moved, barely audible.

"Scare... ‘ovf you...”

Gojo’s chest tightened. “She’s dreaming.”

Nanami frowned. “Can we wake her?”

"No, it could trigger shock.”

Gojo slipped an arm around you, being careful not to disturb the IV line that Nanami had arranged for your nourishment with a neighboring doctor, just as Shoko had instructed. The line was securely placed in your wrist. He pulled you close, his hand resting gently on your back. “It’s okay,” he murmured softly. “You’re okay.”

Your muttering stopped, but your trembling didn’t. Gojo pressed his lips to your temple, his voice low and breaking. “I’m sorry. For everything. For leaving. For not seeing it sooner.”

Nanami stood by, his jaw tight, guilt etched into every line of his face.

Your breathing slowed, but your skin turned pale, almost translucent. Dark veins spidered up your arms, pulsing faintly.

“Nanami,” Gojo said, his voice trembling.

“I see it.”

Nanami grabbed his phone, dialing Shoko. The line rang.

“Come on,” he muttered, redialing.

Gojo tightened his hold on you, his six eyes glowing faintly as he scanned your body. “This isn’t normal.”

Nanami’s frustration was etched into his frantic dialing.

The veins spread, and your lips parted in a soft, pained cry.

Gojo’s eyes widened.

The room seemed to darken, the air growing thick. The sound of your heartbeat echoed unnaturally loud in the room.

“Please, baby… stay with me,” Gojo whispered, his voice breaking. His grip on you tightened as though sheer willpower could keep you tethered to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The chaos ebbed as suddenly as it had come. The dark veins receded into your skin like shadows retreating from light. A faint, almost imperceptible movement against your belly broke the stillness—the twins, kicking softly.

Gojo froze. His hand, resting on your stomach, felt it—life, fragile and undeniable. His breath hitched. He glanced at Nanami, whose jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. Neither man spoke, but the shared look said everything: they would not lose you for the twins .

A/N: Not Ijichi having a crush on Nanami because honestly, same, Iji-cheese. 🤭 I'm Shoko in this chapter; Shoko is me. Remember, engagement is love, so let me know your thoughts, theories, and who you'd yeet first in the comments.

Next Chapter 11 (alt ending 2.2) - Snakes & Mirrors (Tumblr/Ao3)

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