#that moment when your husband has just taken in a daughter and lost his job but you have to go back to Europe for a bit

[athena-xiii]

He did forget to shave

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Where's Mummy?"

A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!

Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation

Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)

RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"

His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.

You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.

Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.

Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"

"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."

The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.

Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.

So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.

"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"

"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"

"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again

Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.

...

When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.

"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."

"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"

"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.

"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.

Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.

"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."

That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.

"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.

"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."

˚ · • . ° .

ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS

"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."

Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.

"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.

Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.

Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.

"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"

"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.

Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.

Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.

"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.

Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.

"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.

"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.

Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"

"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.

...

Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.

Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.

"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."

"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.

The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.

The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"

"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."

"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.

"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.

"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.

You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too

˚ · • . ° .

XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON

"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"

"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"

"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.

But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.

You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"

Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."

Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.

Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.

"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.

"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls

...

"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.

"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"

"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.

Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?

The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.

"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.

The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.

"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.

The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.

"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.

"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.

"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.

But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.

"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."

Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!

But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3

[wisteriadaydreams]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well!

I absolutely loved your Tanjiro x Haganezuka’s daughter piece! It was just too cute!

May I request one with Tanjiro x Urokodaki’s daughter? She’d probably be really strong and train with Tanjiro, finally convincing her dad to let her become a Slayer, only to get lectured after accidentally falling on top of him or something because Urokodaki can just smell the puppy love brewing between the both of them!

Sorry, got a little carried away! 💗 Tanjiro is just too cute!

I’m most likely going to come back here, so if it’s alright, I’d love to be your 🌺 Anon! Sending lots of love and good vibes your way!

TANJIRŌ W/ UROKODAKI’S DAUGHTER!READER

pairing: Kamado Tanjirō x fem!reader

genre: angst in the beginning, mention of canonical character death, fluff later on

Words: 7.5k (buckle up ppl, it's a long one)

a/n: I was so excited when I first read this ask! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to it! And yes, you can 100% be 🌺anon (≧▽≦)

Urokodaki and his wife have had a hard time conceiving, and as they grew older, they resigned themselves to accepting that they will not have a child of their own, no matter how much it pained them.

In a way, they had tried to fill the void by adopting and taking in orphaned children, but that doesn’t mean they don’t come to love them any less. Some of them eventually leave to forge their own lives when they become adults, while some decided to follow in Urokodaki’s footsteps and become a Demon Slayer.

Knowing the dangerous nature of the job, he vehemently denied the request, but after seeing the relentlessness and determined nature of his child, he finally relented. When it came time to send his first student off to the Final Selection, he and his wife did so with a heavy heart.

When their child never came home no matter how long they wait, they buried their memories and a piece of their heart at Mount Sagiri.

(Urokodaki would refuse to train anyone else for years to come, but there are always those who managed to convince him otherwise.)

Nevertheless, his household is one that always ring with laughter and joy, a household that sticks together through the hard times, holding each other close and wiping away each other’s tears.

So when you came to this world, it was to a home overflowing with love.

You were their miracle baby, a blessing from the gods, the light that makes their world brighter. When the news was announced, there was not one dry eye in the house. Suddenly, everyone became even more overprotective of your mother when she was pregnant with you, and she had to scold her husband and her children several times for coddling her.

When you came into this world, your brothers and sisters take turns holding you, cooing and feeling their hearts bursting from the sight of your smile.

You grew up in a world like that — protected and loved and never lonely.

They would sneak you sweets and gifts they got from the nearby town, and sometimes those training would let you hold their swords for a moment, at the expense of being reprimanded by Urokodaki.  You were spoiled beyond compare.

When your mother was taken by a swift but deadly illness while you were still too young to register death, your family did what they always do — mourn in each other’s arms, and slowly piece everyone back together.

If possible, your father became even more protective of you. He has lost too much. His comrades, his friends, his wife, his students and children. It would break him entirely to lose you, too.

You grew up in a home that protected and love you, but also a home that grieves for the lost souls that will never be able to find their way back. Over the years, you’ve watched all of your father’s apprentices leave the safe embrace of Mt. Sagiri, a sword by their hip, a fox mask by the side of their face, and hope shining in their eyes.

“Otou-san.” You tugged your father’s sleeve. “Where are they going?”

“To hopefully make the world a better place.” “When are they coming back?” “Soon, my daughter. I pray every day that it would be soon.”

Many of them promised you that they will come back and play with you. Many of them broke their promises.

One year, your father rescued two boys, Sabito and Giyū, whose families were both eaten by demons. You immediately took to them, constantly trailing behind them and jumping onto their backs. They in turn dote on you, keeping you company whenever they weren’t training. You would sit on the ground to watch them spar with your father, twirling the grass under your fingers and giggling when they were swiftly disarmed.

You didn’t really understand why they were training. You had an inkling of the demons beyond the safe vicinity of the mountain from the stories your other siblings would tell you, but other than that you couldn’t grasp why they were serious about it.

“Sabito-nii, why are you and Giyū-nii training with father?” You asked him one day.

“Because there’s dangerous creatures out there who would stop at nothing to kill humans, and there are only a select few who could deal with them.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N)-chan, maybe that’s just the way of the world. We’re no matched for the strength of demons, so we must become stronger.” “But why you and Giyū-nii?”

He patted your head softly, a tender but sad look in his eyes. “So that no one would have to go through what we went through.”

Their training continued, progressing from proper breathing lessons to when their blades are suddenly embraced by foamy, cerulean blue waves that twist around one another. Your eyes would shine with delight whenever you catch their fluid movements.

The day comes when both of your brothers have to leave, just like all the other apprentices before them. Your heart sank to the pits of your stomach the night before, making you unable to sleep even a wink. What if they don’t return as well?

The next morning, you stubbornly cling to them, refusing to let go even when your father scolds you.

“But I don’t want you to go!” You exclaimed.

“Come one, (Y/N)-chan. It’ll only be for a little while. Sabito and I will be back before you know it.”

“Promise?” “Promise.”

About a week went by without any sign of them returning, and you’ve never felt so on edge. You started to stand outside diligently to hopefully catch a glimpse that peach shade of Sabito’s hair and the deep blue of Giyū’s eyes, only coming inside when your father urged you.

Finally, one misty morning, you were out pulling weeds in the garden when you spotted a head of thick jet-black hair from up the road. Your eyes widened when you saw the familiar figure trudging down towards the house.

“Otou-san!” You shouted as you ran towards him. “Giyū-nii is home!!!”

You resisted the urge to tackle him into a hug once you saw his fatigued and wounded state. Nevertheless, your heart soared in happiness.

“Giyū-nii! You’re back! Are you hurt anywhere?” Your eyes roam over him, wincing at the amount of dirt on his clothes. But your brother was unresponsive and dazed, even when your father put a hand on his shoulder. Something itched in the back of your mind, and your stomach twisted unexpectedly when you felt like something was not right.

“Giyū-nii,” you began slowly, your eyes darting all over the place. “Where is Sabito-nii?”

His silence was answer enough.

Nothing was ever the same after that. You’re no stranger to lost, but it didn’t stop your heart from cleaving into two and the tears from running down your face at night. Not when a piece of you seems to die every time you’re met with your father’s silent grieving, or heard the sobs from your brother that he so desperately tried to hide.

You were both just children grasping with death.

When it was time for him to leave and officially embark on his journey, it was pouring like they had never seen before. Perhaps that was best. Perhaps then none of them would notice the tears.

Your home became quieter. Still filled with love, but more somber somehow. Laughter came a little harder for you, and each time you watch the sunset, you can’t help but feel your shoulders become heavier, as if the twilight was a corporeal thing that weighed down on you.

For a while, it was only you, your father, and the silence. But that all changed when a little girl around your age stumbled into your lives.

Like many siblings before, Makomo came to your home unexpectedly, and yet it also felt like fate. She lit up the whole house with her gentle smiles and brightness, restoring some of the warmth that have been lost.

You take to her immediately, spending your days braiding flowers into each other’s hair and running through the mountains until you can draw a map with your eyes closed. You felt your soul healing in the presence of her calming demeanor. She became a sister that you could unconditionally trust to always have your back. Imagine your horror when she too was determined to walk down the same treacherous path.

“Makomo-chan! You can’t!” You tearfully protested. “It’s too dangerous!”

‘What if she doesn’t come back?’ The sentence replayed over and over in your head like a broken mantra, and you were once more squeezed by multiple stabs of fear and anxiety. Your father shared the same sentiments as you, and firmly denied her request.

How could he forgive himself if he let someone as young as her entrench herself into such a cruel world.

But Makomo was resilient and stubborn. She would sneak out and practice with a sword and had even somehow been able to grasp the basics of Total Concentration Breathing. When asked, she only smiled mysteriously and told you that she had some help.

When your father saw that his warnings fell on deaf ears and after seeing how much she improved, he finally caved in and took her as his apprentice.

To say that you were unhappy with the decision would be an understatement. You watched her train and become more graceful and quick on her feet, dread pooling in your stomach with every progress and injuryYou and your father hugged her and sent her on her way, and it felt like goodbye. You prayed to any gods that were willing to listen to protect her and bring her back to you.

You stayed by her side, occasionally offering her tips from what you’ve observed from the other students. You bandaged every single wound, lightly chastising her and telling her to be more careful next time. Her only response was to smile and thank you. The more you did this, the more you couldn’t help but wonder about her willingness to put herself on the line to help fight demons, and whether if there’s anything more that you could do.

As you had expected, she passed your father’s final trial. That night, you sleep in the same bed as Makomo, putting your arms around her and pulling her so close that it was difficult to tell where you end and where she began. You didn’t want to let go.

You and your father hugged her and sent her on her way, and it felt like goodbye. You prayed to any gods that were willing to listen to protect her and bring her back to you.

The gods too, did not answer them.

The pain coursed through your body like a beast made of liquid fire, clawing at your insides and erupting from your throat as you cried in your father’s arms. You cried until you became numb, until every muscle in your body feels like it had been crushed by the weight of your grief. Her grave was marked alongside the others. Wherever she was, she held a piece of your soul with her.

It was you, your father, and the silence, once more.

One afternoon, you return from working in the garden to see your father reading a letter, Giyū’s crow perch on his shoulder. Your spirit lifts momentarily, relieved that he is still doing well.

It’s hard to read your father due to the mask he wears, but from the way he grips the paper tightly and crinkling it, it can’t be good news.

“Otou-san, what is it?”

He lifts his head to look at you, then fold the letter and tucking it into his kimono before going back inside. “I need to go for a bit, (Y/N). Stay here, and prepare for some visitors.”

You only manage to blink a few times before he’s out the door again. Even at his age, he is still as fast as a Demon Slayer at their prime. As you prepare the ingredients for dinner, you wonder who the visitor could be.

You get your answer later that day, when your father comes back with a young boy in tow. Your father looked like he didn’t even break a sweat, but the boy trailing behind him seemed as if though he’s fighting for every breath. With a basket strap to his back, you can understand why that’s the case.

“Otou-san, who is this?” “This is Kamado Tanjirō. He’ll be staying with us for the night,” he says simply. “This is my daughter, (Y/N).”

You bow in greeting as he walks through the door. You watch in curiosity as he unwraps the basket, unveiling a sleeping girl tucked inside.

You would have reacted in horror if not for the fact that your father is being so calm about it, but it doesn’t stop you from wondering what’s going on.

“This is my sister, Nezuko. She’s…um…” Tanjirō looks to your father, asking for help.

“We’ll take care of her,” your father says. You quickly catch on and run inside to fetch a pillow and blanket, temporarily laying her on the ground until you can arrange a futon for her. “But for now, you and I will be climbing the mountain.”

With those words, it dawns on you. Here’s another person hoping to become your father’s student and become a Demon Slayer. All of his prospects go through the same process, and climbing the mountain is only the beginning of the trials they will face.

When your father returns, he fills you in on the situation. Your heart drops in sympathy when you hear that their family was killed by demons, and flinch when it’s revealed that the girl sleeping so peacefully near the crackling hearth is a demon.

“Otou-san, how can this be? She seems nothing like the demons you would tell me about.” “You feel it too,don’t you (Y/N)? She’s different from any demon I’ve encountered before. It’s like she’s still human somewhere in that body of hers.”

You look back down at Nezuko. It’s difficult to reconcile the image of blood-thirsty demons that has been instilled into you since childhood. Those that pillaged villages and killed without mercy. Those that…

You clench your hands into fists. It’s definitely difficult, and if both your father and Giyū are willing to put their trust into her, then you can try as well.

The first threads of dawn are beginning to slip through the horizon, and Tanjirō has yet to return from the mountain. You fidget in your seat, your eyes flickering every few minutes to the door, ears train to see if you can pick up the sound of any footsteps. You’re torn between wanting to see him succeed and fail. If he does, then you’re afraid that he’ll become another lamb on its way to slaughter. But if he doesn’t, then which other path can he walk on to restore his sister’s humanity?

In the midst of battling with yourself, your ears perk up at the sound of heavy footsteps. You whip your head to the door the same time your father does, and a second later it slams open to reveal a dirtied and injured Tanjirō, blood flowing from his head and shoulder.

“I’m…back…” He pants and is only able to utter before he collapses by the door frame. You rush to his side, preparing to carry him inside and treat his wounds. You look to your father, who stands stoic and in silent contemplation. You know that he has made his decision.

Every early morning, even before the sun rises, your father and Tanjirō would make their way up the mountain to begin their training. You would look after the still slumbering Nezuko, and then bring lunch to wherever they are. After having lunch with them, you would stay for a while to watch them train. In the evenings, you would take care of any injuries Tanjirō incurred throughout the day.

Your talks with him are often short, something to fill in the silence while you bandage him up. You’re grateful that he isn’t the type to pry, and instead is content with letting the conversation flow wherever it may. Your heart is still healing, and you’ve yet to recover the strength to open those scars again.

But the more time you spend around him, the more you realize that it’s terrifyingly easy to put your guard down around him. It’s like he has a soothing and warming aura radiating from him, causing you to unable to resist melting in his presence. It feels both familiar and so wildly foreign to you, that at times you’re unsure how to act around him.

Your father is harsher on Tanjirō than with any of his other students, and you can understand why. His improvement is gradual, and it’s clear that he doesn’t have the raw talent that Sabito and Makomo had. But what he lacked in talent, he made it up with determination.

Even on what is supposed to be his rest days, he would be out swinging his sword and working on his breathing. During those times, you would make sure that he’s eating and not neglecting yourself.

“You’re thinking too hard about it,” you say as you watch him try to master Total Concentration Breathing. “You have to be more subtle about it. Here, close your eyes.” You stand up and approach him. “Try to imagine the air as water. Let it enter you.” You close your eyes and breathe along with him. “Imagine it moving through every part of you.” You trail your fingers down his arms. “Feel it in every cell and vein, feel it touch you and flow around you. See the difference?”

“I-I think so.” You open your eyes to smile, and that’s when you realized that his hands are now clasped tightly in yours, and the distance between you two is too close for comfort.

You drop his hands like they’re hot coals, a blush quickly rising to your cheeks. “Sorry!”

“N-no, it’s okay.” As opposed to your worryingly flaming face, his cheeks only had a tinge of pink. “But thank you, (Y/N)-san! I understand now.”

“It’s-it’s nothing. Just something I picked up while watching others train.” “Just from watching? That’s amazing! I’m surprised you’re not training already. You would leave me in the dust.”

“…You think so?” “I know so. Just last week you helped me with my stance and how to properly swing my sword. And you seem to already know how to do Total Concentration Breathing.” He pauses and begins his next sentence tentatively. “Sorry if this is rude of me, but I’m just wondering why you haven’t become Urokodaki-san’s student yet.”

You tilt your head, giving thought to his question. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I guess it’s partly because I know how it feels to be the person on the other side. I don’t think I could bear putting my father through having to worry about me like that. But at the same time, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it before. I don’t know though…”

Can you do it? Can you actually take up a sword and leave everything behind? Knowing that you're risking everything and never come back?

But…maybe then you can go and explore beyond the mountain. Maybe you can help other families sleep better at night. Children won’t have to look behind their back in fear of things creeping in the dark. No one would have to go through what you went through.

“Well, whatever you decide.” Tanjirō pats your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe it’ll be the right decision.”

“No.”

You’ve expected this response from your father, but it didn’t cause you to flinch any less. “But otou-san–”

“No means no, (Y/N). I will not allow you to become a Demon Slayer.” “But I’ve been watching you teach for years! I know how to do Total Concentration Breathing, and I basically know all the stances by heart. If only you would let me try, then I know I can master them!” “And you know perfectly well how dangerous is it.”

“Of course I know!” You can’t help but raise your voice a little. “And how many more have to lose their lives? I’m sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing, waiting for the next bad news. I want to do something to help!” “And you’re already doing that by staying here and being safe.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be coddled and safe anymore!” Your chest heaves and you turn around, unable to bear looking at his masked face any longer. “I just wish you would believe in your daughter a little more.” With that, you walk out the door, ignoring the words of your father.

Your legs take you to the huge frothing waterfall a distance away from your house, a favorite place of yours when you want some peace and quiet. It’s just you and the sound of rushing water to drown out your thoughts. Or so you thought.

“(Y/N)-san.” Your soul nearly left your body. You wildly turn around to see that Tanjirō had followed you.

“Tanjirō-san! You scared me to death! How did you even find me?” He taps his nose and that’s all you needed to know. “…Right. Well, you’re welcome to sit next to me, since you’re here already.”

He takes your invitation. “I just want to know how you’re doing.” You hug your knees to your chest and sigh. “Thanks. Sorry you had to hear that, by the way. I understand where my father’s coming from, I really do. But at the same time, I can’t help but think he thinks I’m not enough in his eyes, like I’m still a baby that needs to be cocooned. But I’ve been by the sidelines for so long, always watching and worrying and feeling useless. If I have the ability to, I should stand up and do something. Shouldn’t I?”

“Hey.” Tanjirō places a warm hand on your shoulder. “You’re not useless. You take care of the whole household. You cook for us and remind us to take a break. You give me advice, encouragement, and always take care of me when I get injured. I think you’re already incredible as you are. But if you believe you can do something more, then I say go for it! I’ll support you!”

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide in wonder at his words. He nods, and you know it to be true. You feel your fingertips become tingly, and all the water in this world could not wash away the bubble of warmth in your body. “Thank you.”

You scoot a little closer to him, content to be in his presence. Nothing needed to be said that isn’t already felt in the blank spaces of your words.

When you return, your father is waiting for you, his arms crossed. You gulp, knowing that you’re in big trouble, but you stand your ground anyways.

“Tanjirō, go inside. I need to speak to my daughter privately.” “Yes, Urokodaki-san.” He gives you an encouraging look and heads inside, leaving you and your father alone. The tension is so thick you can cut through it with a sword, and your foot fidgets in anticipation of who will be speaking first.

“I made a promise to your mother,” your father begins, and that makes everything you’re going to say go back down your throat. “That I would keep you safe, and make sure no harm comes to you.”

You hang your head, that familiar wisp of sadness creeping up on you. Over the years, you’ve heard many stories about your mother, wanting to know everything about her to fill in the gaps of your memories, selfishly clinging to the last vestiges of her presence that you can remember.

“But I’ve also made another promise to her, that I’ll always make you happy,” he continues. “And if this is truly the path you want to take, then I’ll fulfill your wish.” You whip your head up at his words, surprise overtaking your face. “But just because you’re my daughter doesn’t mean I'll go easy on you, do you understand? If at any point I deem you not suitable, I’ll pull you from training.”

“Yes, otou-san!” “Good, then be up by 4 am tomorrow.”

If he’s already hard on Tanjirō, then he’s hard on you 10 times over. If Tanjirō has to swing his sword 1000 times, you have to do it 2000 times. If he only has to descend the mountain 2 times, you have to do it 5 times. If he has to stay under the waterfall for 5 minutes, you have to do it for 15. But you take it all in stride, finally being able to find an outlet for your pent up energy over the years.

You and Tanjirō becomes closer due to this, bonding over your shared misfortune of being tortured mentored by the former Water Hashira. One some days you would spar with him, eager to see how much you’ve improved.

Today, you’ve managed to disarm him and goes through the motion to pin him to the ground, but a miscalculation quickly cause you to lose your balance. Before you know it, you let out a yelp and is dragged to the ground with him. You brace for impact, but your fall is broken by a soft weight below you. That weight being of course no one else but your sparring partner.

You open your eyes and is mortified to see Tanjirō staring back at you, your noses almost touching one another. From this proximity, you’re able to see the closer the soft gradient of his dark maroon eyes, like embers blazing in the hearth. Your body is pressed against his, his arms settled lightly at your waist no doubt to soften your fall. Your eyes unconsciously travel down to his lips for a brief moment, but enough for you to begin scolding yourself incessantly for the intrusive thought that runs through your mind.

“Kamado Tanjirō!” Your father’s voice booms through the field. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You and him immediately scramble away from one another, faces so red that even a ripe tomato would be jealous. Your father stares down at the both of you, the silence even more unbearable with the menacing aura radiating from him.

“1000 sword swings from you, Tanjirō. And you, (Y/N), I’m going to properly teach you how to stay on your feet.”

You both shiver, the calm way he said it making it sound even more cold to your ears. “Y-yes sir.”

6 months go by, and Nezuko have yet to wake up. Even when the doctor assures that there’s nothing wrong with her, you still can’t help but worry about her. 6 months go by, and your father declare that he has nothing more to teach you.

You and Tanjirō look at each other with surprise. While you know what’s coming next, you’re astonished when instead of leading you up to the mountain towards a boulder like Tanjirō, your father leads you to the waterfall where you’ve spent countless days training.

You look to your father for answers, but he is quiet against the mighty rush of the water.

“This will be your final task. With your sword, part this waterfall in half. Do this, and I will allow you to attend the Final Selection.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at what he said. Water in its essence is fluid and flexible, capable of taking any shape or form. It flows wherever it wants, unyielding to the obstacles in its way. How could you hope to conquer it with your blade?

“Otou-san! But–” “Prove yourself to me, my daughter.” With that, he turns around and leave without another word, no matter how many times you shout and urge him.

True to his words, he did not teach you or give you any more explanation. The first time you attempt to do what he wanted, all you got back was a mouthful of foamy water. You’re hit with the realization of how much you still have to learn. For the first 6 months, you devote yourself to honing your knowledge and fortifying your previous training. You work until you feel your arms fall off every night, until all the breathing forms are engraved into your very bones. And still, you make no progress.

There are days when you feel worthless, and the last thing you want to do is hold a sword. During those times, you resign yourself to sit by the river, skipping stones and filling your mind with questions and memories. You wonder how Tanjirō’s doing. Has he made any progress with the boulder yet? You can’t help but miss him. You’ve only realized how much time you spend with him once you’re apart. You miss having him there to encourage you when the training becomes too much, miss laughing whenever both of you would end up on the ground, tired beyond belief. Miss eating meals with him and sharing happier stories about your childhood. Miss tucking him into bed and sitting by him in this very spot even on nights when you’re both yawning.

Your father has forbidden you to go see him to allow both of you to focus on your task, but what’s the harm in one little peek? You know the way by heart, and soon you arrive at that familiar clearing. As you’ve expected, he’s already hard at work, but the person he’s fighting makes your blood turn cold.

You would recognize that peach shade anywhere. You see it every day in the sunset. You open your mouth, but no words leave them. You’re frozen, unable to do anything but watch as Tanjirō and your (dead) brother encircle each other. Blood rushes to your head and you feel like you might faint. Your vision becomes blurry, the dance of their swords become streaks of light. You brace against a tree, and out of the corner of your eyes you see another sight that makes your world tumble and your heart to lurch into your throat.

“...Ma...komo?”

Her smile is as gentle as you remember it. Everything about her is just as you remember it, like a pristine memory come to life. She nods at you and gestures for you to follow her deeper into the woods. Against all reason (of which you have none at this moment), you follow her drowsily. This has to be a dream. You’ve hit your head while making your ascent and now you’re dreaming. This has to be the only reason.

But then she leads to a spot so familiar to the both of you, and for the first time since you’ve seen her you have to wonder if you’re not actually hallucinating. She turns, and her voice is just as you remember it. “Hi, (Y/N)-chan.”

Gods, you feel like throwing up.

“Makomo...how...? How?” You’re only able to mutter. She sits you down and explain everything, about how she’s tied to this mountain, and how countless students before her have also found their way back here.

“So the person who helped train you...” “Was Sabito, yes.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to, I really did. But Sabito wanted me to focus on my training. And...he didn’t want to stop you and Urokodaki-san from moving on.”

You twist your hands into the grass, sorrow coiling tightly around your stomach. “So...I’m guessing that Sabito-nii is helping Tanjirō grow stronger.” “He is. Tanjirō has a lot of potential, he just has to learn how to unlock it. As do you. We’re all so happy when you began training, you know. You’ve become so strong.” “But not strong enough to finish my father’s trial.”

Makomo sits pensively. “Maybe you’re approaching it the wrong way. Remember what Urokodaki-san told us when we were learning the forms?” “Become one with the water. Do not resist its flow. Embrace it, and it will answer your call.” “I think that’s something to think about.”

You let her words sink into you. “Okay, I’ll give it some thought.” Makomo stands up. “It’s time for me to go back. But (Y/N)-chan, I must ask you a favor. Can you keep the truth from Tanjirō? We don’t want him to be distracted from his progress.”

“But can I see you again?” She shakes her head. “No, (Y/N)-chan. You must also focus on your own self. But know this. We are all watching you, and we will always be by your side.” “...Then this is goodbye.” “Only for now, we will meet again.”

“Tell Sabito-nii I still think of him. That every time I make mushroom nabe I would still remember him, and that there will be a day when I watch the sunset and feel happy.” “I will.” “Goodbye, dear sister.”

A few more months pass, and despite Makomo’s advice, you have still yet to put her words to good use, no matter how much you’ve tried. But you can’t give up now, not when you know you have everyone’s trust in you. 

It is near the hour of twilight, and you’re sitting on a rock underneath the waterfall, letting the waves pour down on you. Your eyes are closed, and all the sounds of the world are lost on you. You tune out the sensations of your body, your heart, your mind, every muscle and vein, until they’re nothing but water. You slowly rise to your feet and lift your sword, but instead of resisting, you succumb to the weight. You let it guide you, trusting it to show you the way. It answers your call. You swing.

You open your eyes, and your jaw drops. The current of the waterfall is perfectly split into two, the resulting drops of water flying from your blade like bejeweled dew against a backdrop of pink that extends its darkening arms toward the golden sunset. Entranced by the sight, you only notice your father and Tanjirō when they’re by your side. Tanjirō’s eyes are as wide with wonder as yours, while your father is hard to read as ever. 

“I had no intention of sending you or Tanjirō to the Final Selection,” he finally says. “I could not bear to lose any more of my students, nor can I bear to lose my only daughter. But you’ve surpassed all of my expectations. Perhaps it’s time for me to realize you’re not that same little girl who would cling to me anymore.”  He takes you into his arms, and no matter what he says, you’ll always feel like a little girl when you hug him. “You’ve become so strong, my daughter.”

That night, you’re barely able to sleep, and even though you should be sick of the waterfall at this point, you can’t help but sneak out to it one more time. It’s not long until you hear a pair of familiar footsteps joining you.

“Hey Tanjirō-kun. Can’t sleep?” “Yeah, I can’t help but feel anxious about tomorrow.” “Me too. Congratulations on completing father’s final challenge, by the way.” “That’s nothing compared to you. You were incredible! How did you do that?” You blush at the compliment. “I had some help.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, the action as normal as breathing. “What do you think will happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. But whatever happens, we’ll face it together.” You nod. “Together."

What makes Tanjirō so different to you? Why do you feel so drawn to him? Why does your heart sing when he is near? When did your eyes come to search for him, and why do you crave for these moments like they’re the air that you need to breathe? In the back of your mind, you think you have the answer, but you’ll have all the time in the world to decipher it.

You lift your head and stand up, extending your hand to him. “Come on, let’s go back.”

He slides his hand into yours, and it feels right.

The next morning, you and him are all packed and prepared. You never thought you would be the one on the other side, a sword by your hip and your father’s fox mask by the side of your face, saying a bittersweet goodbye to him.

Just before you two leave, Tanjirō turn back one more time, mentioning Sabito and Makomo in his farewell. You wince, and you can only imagine what your father’s reaction was.

“How come you’ve never mentioned them?” “...You’ve never asked.”

Thankfully, he didn’t pry anymore into the subject, and your journey to Mount Fujikasane is smooth. You’re amazed at the sight of the wisteria blossoms before you, so abundant that it falls like rain. You arrive at the main area, and after hearing the rules, the actual challenge begins.

You and Tanjirō agree that it would be best to head east in order to receive sunlight the quickest. Along the way, you encounter two demons, both of whom you two quickly dealt with. You watch as he prays over the disintegrating corpses, and at times like these you have to wonder how he manages to remain so kind when he has been broken by this world.

You proceed, when suddenly Tanjirō stops you in your path, holding his nose as if he smelled something foul. A scream from the darkness sends chills down your spine. The next thing you see fills you with horror. A demon far too big and monstrous to be considered befitting the level of an amateur slayer trudges through the forest, each of its heavy footsteps thrumming in your ears. Each of its limbs are veiny and as huge as your entire body, twisting and coiling around it like mangled flesh. You can barely make out where its main body is, let alone its neck.

It holds a dead man in one of its horrific hands, devouring him in one motion. Bile rises to your throat at the sight, and you feel your legs tremble and rooted deep to the ground. The demon seizes another man with its extended arm, your breath quickening when it opens its gaping mouth. Fortunately, Tanjirō recovered before you, and rush out to slice its arms with the second form of Water Breathing. You snap out of your fear only a second later, even out your breathing and sprint out to push the man behind you, your swords drawn alongside Tanjirō.

The demon becomes incensed when it spots your fox mask and rages as it curses your father’s name over and over. You listen in horror when it reveals how many humans it has eaten, but that is nothing compared to the fire burning in your blood when he says how many of your father’s students it has devoured.

Thirteen. Thirteen of your brothers and sisters. Thirteen souls that will never come home. Thirteen names that you can recite in your sleep.

The fire blazes into a vengeful inferno when you hear it describes the deaths of Sabito and Makomo with glee, as if they’re as trivial as bugs. As if there are not still those who mourn for them.

You advance with rage and with only one working thought in your mind. Kill.

The demon is even more amused at your reaction, and to your dismay no matter how many arms you and Tanjirō cut down, more would just grow back. One of them lands a hit on Tanjirō, sending him flying and hitting a tree.

“Tanjirō-kun!” You shout, your heart dropping at the blood on his forehead and his unconscious state. You’re left to fend the demon by yourself.

“Control your breathing, (Y/N)-chan. Do not worry about us, focus on saving Tanjirō.” You hear Makomo’s voice inside your head, and only then did you realize how you’ve essentially forgone every lesson your father has drilled into you. You quickly chastise yourself and regulate your breathing, standing your ground and working to divert the demon away from the unconscious boy.

“Tanjirō-kun! Wake up! Please, I need you!” You exclaim as you sliced another limb, your muscles starting to ache from how many times you’ve done so. You couldn’t severe every one of them all alone, and to your terror one of them escaped your attention and is targeting right at him. “Tanjirō!”

As if answering your prayers, he finally opens his eyes and move out the way. But you’re barely able to let out a sigh of relief before more come at you. You dodge and run to his side, your sword brandished and held tight, face-to-face with the enemy. You spare a quick glance to Tanjirō, both of you nodding.

“Together?” “Together.”

You advance, cutting down any obstacle standing in your way. At a warning shout from Tanjirō, you both leap in the air to avoid the arms underground. A limb lashes out to grab Tanjirō, but he’s able to utilizes that hard head of his. You both land on the arm, ready to execute the final attack.

“Tanjirō-kun, I’ll take care of its arms! You aim for the neck!” You carry out the Fourth Form and destroys anything blocking his path, and in a fast flurry of the First Form, it is done.

He is no more.

When there is finally time to rest and you’re done taking care of his forehead injury, you’re left to grasp with the ugly truth displayed right before your very eyes. So many lives lost, all of it fueled by hatred so deep that it makes your heart sinks. What would your father think when he realizes that a small decision of his may have led to his students’ demise?

“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth,” you whisper as you rest under the shade of a tree. Tanjirō turns away from you, and the action makes your stomach twist. He is silent for a moment before speaking. “It’s not your fault. To be honest, I had my suspicions, but I didn’t want to face them and realize that they’re true.” Another pause. “Do you think they’re at peace now?”

You grip your kimono where your heart rests. “Yeah. Yeah, I think they are.” You don’t lie about this, you feel your soul getting lighter.

“Will you tell me about them?” “Later,” you shuffle next to him, curling into his warmth as your eyes become heavy. “I promise.”

You spend your mornings like this, sleeping after a long, arduous night. Moving ever closer until you two fit like puzzle pieces, hands gripped tight in search of the other’s warmth, a confirmation that you both are still alive.

Against all odds, you both survived the 7 days.

Drained of all energy and adrenaline, the trek back home is just as taxing for your weary bodies. You support each other by lifting the other by the shoulder, praying with every step that you’ll soon see that thatched roof that you call home.

Your journey comes to an end when you see the light from that lone house near the mountain. Your shoulders sag in relief, and you would have buckled if not for Tanjirō’s arm around you. Suddenly, the door is kicked down, and out comes the girl that you’ve only ever seen in deep slumber. She looks even more beautiful under the moonlight, and you gasp at the recognition in her still human eyes.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirō rushes down to meet his sister, and at the halfway point she cradles his head into her chest, so gentle that it makes tears well up in your eyes.

You spot your father, his arms full of firewood, and a tired smile makes its way up your face. “Otou-san...”

Uncaring about the wood he just dropped by his feet, he pulls all of you (his children) close, and there is no stopping the torrent of tears from flowing down all of your cheeks.

“You’ve survived. You’ve come back to us.”

The days that followed allow you to recuperate and come to terms with what you have learned at the Final Selection. You all devote an entire day to clean and make offerings to the graves of those that are gone and spend the entire night reminiscing your memories about them.

It also allows you to bond with Nezuko, and once again you’re convicted to help Tanjirō find a way to turn her back into a human.

But those halcyon days are short-lived, and after receiving your Nichirin sword, uniform, and first joint mission, it’s finally time to leave.

("That’s a gorgeous shade of blue, huh Urokodaki?” “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”)

You stand on the other side, hugging your father and promising that no matter what, you will come back to him. This is a promise that you intend to keep. He fixes your uniforms, his fingers lingering as if he’s still not ready to let go.

“Take care of her, Tanjirō,” he says, and unexpectedly pulls him closer so that he could whisper something. You don’t know what he said, but whatever it was, Tanjirō becomes deathly pale and shivers uncontrollably. You look at them curiously, but none of them would meet your gaze.

Finally, you take your first few steps down that dirt path, sparing one final look at your world and everything you’ve ever known. But you’re not afraid, for you have Tanjirō by your side.

“We’re in this together.”

“There’s no one else I would rather do this with.”

©️ wisteriadaydreams

➺ All of the following works belong to me. Please don’t repost, copy, or steal my content off of Tumblr. Plagiarism will not be tolerated.

[freshlymadeillumi]

Denial (pt 2)

Weeks have gone by, no sign of Mia’s email back. Rose just went to bed and you decided to go make something to eat before bed.

Walking into the kitchen, you felt something cold and small on your foot. You freaked out, hating stepping on unknown objects. You slowly picked up your foot and it was a key.

“Weird, whose key is this?” You said to yourself and went to check the key box and roses and your key was in there. You set the key to the side and continued on making something to eat. Putting socks on first… of course. You couldn’t find anything to eat, and looked at the times

10:23pm.

Nothing would be open, or nobody would be delivering this late. You sighed and got a pack of graham crackers and opened it. Nothing else would satisfy this craving. You were walking back to your room when you heard a email notification from your office. You walked to the computer, Mia’s email totally disappeared from your brain as you just signed up for a new job so maybe that was them. Instead it was Mia.

—

Subject: leave me alone.

Dear Y/N,

I trust this email finds you well. I am writing to address the persistent inquiries regarding Rose and Ethan, matters I am no longer inclined to entertain. It has become evident that you harbor an insatiable curiosity about my late husband, and I must clarify that I am no longer interested in discussing him or his relationship with you.

Since you have taken the step to adopt Rose, it has become abundantly clear to me that any semblance of connection I had with Ethan has been severed. Your presence in his life, particularly now as a mother figure to our daughter, serves as a constant reminder of what was lost. Therefore, I have made the conscious decision to distance myself from both you and Rose.

I trust you will understand that this decision is not made lightly but stems from a need for closure and personal healing. As such, I kindly request that you refrain from further attempts to involve me in your life or inquire about Ethan.

In an effort to provide context and perhaps closure for you, I have attached a couple of photos capturing moments shared between Ethan and Rose, as well as a heartfelt letter Ethan penned for our daughter. I hope these mementos offer the clarity you seek and facilitate your understanding of my stance.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

Mia Winters

[Attachments: 2 photos, 1 letter]

—-

Not what you wanted to hear but.. better than nothing. You hovered over the pictures, took a breath and clicked it.

There was Ethan and Rose, smiling when Rose was itty bitty. You smiled a bittersweet smile and clicked the letter.

—-

For My Dearest Rose

My Sweet Rose,

If you're reading this, then it means I'm not there to say these words to you in person. I wish I could hold you close, look into your eyes, and tell you how much you mean to me. But life doesn't always give us what we want, does it?

I want you to know that from the moment you came into this world, you brought a light into my life that I never knew existed. Your laughter, your smile, your very presence filled my heart with a joy I can't quite put into words.

I may not always be there to protect you or guide you through life's challenges, but I want you to remember one thing: you are loved beyond measure. Your mother and I, we may not have always had it easy, but you were always our shining beacon of hope.

As you grow older, there will be times when life throws you curveballs, when you feel lost or alone. But never forget that you are never truly alone. You carry a piece of me with you, always, in your heart.

I may not be able to watch you take your first steps, or see you graduate from school, or walk you down the aisle, but know that I am with you in spirit, cheering you on every step of the way.

So, my darling Rose, live your life with courage, with kindness, with passion. Chase your dreams, embrace every moment, and never let anyone dull your sparkle.

I love you more than words can express,

Forever and always,

Ethan W. (dad :))

—-

You broke down reading this letter then you get another Email, this time from Chris. You wipe your eyes and print the letter and pictures out for a folder you’ve been working on since Ethan died for Rose. Inside it was a lot of stuff Ethan made for Rose, pictures letter and stuff.

You opened the email and sighed.

—

Subject: Training Opportunities for Rose

Dear Y/N,

I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to reach out to discuss Rose's unique abilities and the potential for further training.

As you're aware, Rose possesses extraordinary powers, ones that require careful nurturing and guidance to fully understand and control. Given my experience in dealing with similar situations, I believe I can offer valuable insights and assistance in this regard.

I've witnessed firsthand the importance of honing and mastering one's abilities, especially in a world as unpredictable as ours. With the right guidance and training, Rose has the potential to harness her powers in ways that could prove invaluable in the future.

I understand that you have taken on the role of Rose's primary caregiver, and I commend you for your dedication. However, I would like to propose the possibility of continuing her training under my guidance. Together, we can ensure that she not only learns to control her powers but also learns to use them responsibly and effectively.

Please consider this offer carefully, and feel free to reach out to me if you have any questions or concerns. I am more than willing to discuss this further and work out a plan that suits both you and Rose.

Thank you for your attention to this matter, and I look forward to the possibility of working together for Rose's benefit.

Best regards,

Chris Redfield

—-

You sighed and clicked off the email and closed your laptop. “Tuh..” you said to yourself and went to lie down. Chris likes to ask for Rose a lot, especially after the incident where she was sucked into the weird thing with her dad and Miranda.

You yawned and decided to leave the email for tomorrow.

[comfortingevanbuckley]

You’ll Do

I don’t know how I feel about this but this little bunny was running in my head ever since I saw the multiple gifsets of Buck with the baby so...have a 6x18 coda with a dash of Buckley sibling feels.

Summary: Buck is okay with what he did, despite how other people might feel. But it still left him with a lot of feelings and who best to talk to other than his sister?

Ao3 Link

The incessant beeping of the monitors in the hospital room were not the only sounds present. Gentle murmurings, and encouraging words from the doctor and nurses surrounding the couple were ever present.

“Has anyone checked on him?” the laboring woman asked, her eyes glancing towards the doorway.

“He’s fine. His nurses are with him and Maddie is watching him. Let’s focus on now,” Her husband rubbed her shoulder trying to be comforting.

“It’s time to push, Mrs. Buckley.”

With a few good pushes, the baby boy was brought into the world. When placed on his mother’s chest, his father let out a slight smile while looking at his wife. She was looking at the infant with a tilt to her brow.

“You’ll do.”

Thirty years later, Evan Buckley was at his sister’s house watching Jee-Yun for the day. Chimney had a doctor’s appointment to check on his stitches after being impaled by a gurney. Once the emergency was over and all of the firefighters had recovered, he got a good lecture from his best friend, Hen, for doing what he did. It may have eventually helped to save his life once Buck got to him, but the fact that he did it left them all shaken.

After making sure Jee-Yun got her lunch, she had declared it was “Movie time!”

“You want to watch a movie? Okay, kiddo, what’s on the list today?”

Maddie had lamented to Buck that they were on a Encanto kick so if he didn’t mind Jee convincing him to sing about Bruno to have fun with it.

At the moment, Buck was happy to have the focus of his niece. It had been a whirlwind couple of weeks, between the collapse, worrying over the crew, Kameron’s water breaking, and Natalia.

Natalia.

That was something that still surprised him. He thought for sure he had messed things up once again. His life was just too crazy and he got it. Having the Ghosts of Girlfriends Past (or ex-fling in Lucy’s case if that was the right word) show up during your attempted dates was not a good way to start something new.

But she came back. He could still remember the sound of her voice when she said his name and how her lips felt against his own.

He really did like her, even if how they met was unconventional. Sure, Eddie may have said it was not a good idea, but Buck did truly feel ready to get back out there. He had taken time to himself and thought he had done a good job of working on his own journey of self-discovery.

At least he had before he saw his- no, Kameron and Connor’s son. It startled him just how much he felt in the moment but he knew the right decision for the little boy was to be with his parents. It was up to Kameron and Connor how much they wanted him to be in his life.

For now, Buck was giving them space, claiming that he wanted the three of them to focus on each other. So forgive him for not checking recent texts where Connor asked if he wanted to know the baby’s name.

So lost in thought, Buck almost missed Jee bringing him her toy microphone, “Sing Uncle Buck!”

“Are you sure about that? Your dad said I give him nightmares when I sing.” he exaggerated his face to look silly and it made her laugh.

“Hey, are you traumatizing my daughter?” Chimney joked as he walked in with Maddie.

Jee abandoned her microphone to go and see him. He couldn’t lift her up quite yet but he could still give her a cuddle as he sat in the chair.

“You walked in right on time to avoid her regretting her toddler life choices.” Buck laughed softly. “What did the doctors say?”

Chimney had a triumphant smile as he spoke, “Doctors said everything is healing fine. I should be good to go back to work soon.”

“Good!”

Maddie looked over at Buck. “I was going to make some lunch, did you want to stay or do you have plans with Natalia?”

Buck glanced at his phone. “She’s at work right now, but I can stay.” In fact, he wanted to talk to his sister more than anything. “I’ll give you a hand.”

She smiled and they went into the kitchen where she began pulling out ingredients for sandwiches. Buck went over to the pantry to look for some sides to go with their lunch.

“So, how are you feeling? No aches and pains?”

Buck looked over at her with a smile. “I’m good, Maddie, promise. You saw Athena that day, she was not about to let any of the crew go without being checked on.”

Taking out some cold cuts, Maddie set them on the counter before walking over to him. “Hey, um, I just wanted to say something to you real quick. I realized I didn’t get a chance earlier.”

Buck lifted a brow, curious what she meant. “Okay?”

“Thank you.”

Realizing what she was likely thanking him for, Buck looked down and nodded. “Maddie, I was just doing my job.”

“Buck, your entire team was either unconscious, impaled, missing, or trapped in a crushed van. You did so much and while I know everyone has already told you they appreciated it, I just…I really needed you to hear it from me.”

It was normal for them to hear firefighters call out to each other if they found a victim in distress so others knew they were accounted for. But it was especially meaningful that when she was scared and worried that she heard her brother announce the man she loved was safe with him.

Buck didn’t quite know what to do with that and all he could do was hug her. “I’d do anything to make sure he comes home to you, you know that, right?”

“I do, but that also includes you, okay? All of you.”

Sniffling, he walked over to the counter to begin cutting some vegetables. His phone vibrated with a text and he looked at it, thinking it was either Eddie, Christopher, or Natalia. Instead, it was Connor asking if he got his last text.

Maddie had been behind him and saw the notification, but glanced up at him. “You going to answer that?”

“Uh, no, not right now.” Buck cleared his throat and began cutting up some carrot sticks for Jee-Yun.

“Buck. You haven’t talked about it since that day.”

Buck sighed softly, glancing over at his sister. She knew him probably almost better than anyone but he also knew she was just looking out for him.

“It’s fine. I delivered the baby, he’s all good now, and they’re a family. I did what I was able to do.”

“Buck-”

“I just…” Buck closed his eyes, remembering what he said when the baby was born. “You know I called dad to let him know.”

“Why did you do that? They hated the idea.”

“I know, but…I just figured he’d have something to say. He kind of reminisced about the day I was born and…”

Maddie closed her eyes and took a breath. “What happened?”

“I asked him what mom said when she saw me.”

“Why do I feel like that was a mistake?”

Buck shrugged his shoulders. “She said ‘You’ll do.’”

Maddie opened her mouth to say something but stopped. Once upon a time she might have tried to defend her parents, because of how intricately her grief was tied to the memories she had of them before Daniel. But now, she couldn’t bring herself to say something.

“You know, I get it. At the time she was overwhelmed and in the middle of everything with Daniel. She was looking for a miracle.” He remembered those words she spoke to him that night at dinner, before he was struck down by lightning. “It’s just that when I held Kameron’s baby, I was looking at him, and she asked if he was okay.”

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘He’s perfect.’” Buck looked down and noticed his hands shaking so he put the knife he was using down. Maddie reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I guess I don’t understand how you can look at someone so innocent and…the first thing you think is ‘You’ll do.’”

Maddie lifted her hand to cup his face and looked him right in the eye. “Buck…you were perfect. Sure, you’ve had your ups and downs lately.” Buck laughed, realizing what she was doing. “But the second I saw you and how unbelievably cute you were, I definitely thought you were perfect. I know it’s not the same, but-”

“No, I…I know, Maddie. I meant what I said last year. You raised me. Knowing I had you, it meant more to me than anything in the world. I really appreciated it.”

“You did a great thing for them, Buck. Sure, I may have had some concerns at the beginning, but I also know that you’ve come a long way since making that decision. And I am sure that that little baby is going to know love because you gave that to him. Remember that, okay?”

Buck nodded his head and looked down to see Natalia texted him. Lunch date?

He smiled and picked up his phone to text her, At my sister’s, but maybe dinner at my place? I promise no one will be in labor.

Deal.

“You really like her, don’t you?”

Buck nodded his head, “I do. And I don’t know where things will go, but I do know I want to try. I want to do things right this time.”

Maddie smiled, “You will. I’m proud of you, Buck.”

“I’m proud of you, too.”

“Hey, we’re starving out here!” Chimney called, breaking the moment.

They turned twin gazes over to each other before busting out laughing.

“You sure you want to marry him?” Buck teased.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” The smile on her face was so bright that Buck could feel his heart bursting at how happy he was for her.

Taking a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Buck could honestly feel like some weight had been lifted. He didn’t realize he had been holding it for so long since that day. He was just looking forward to what the future had to offer.

[frowningfox]

asim 12 and 20!

Thank you so much for the ask!

12. Is your OC cynical or optimistic? Who or what shaped their outlook on life?

A serial optimist. And to an extent always has been. He has a bit of a "naive" nature despite being very aware how bad things can be. He sees himself as a downright scoundrel who has been given second chances throughout his life (he's a little rough around the edges but he definitely blows it out of proportion, he is very hard on himself) and wants to give back second chances in return.

In this lifetime (he has reincarnated a few times), a big influence on his optimism is Erwin the Exorcist. A higher up in the church that he sees as giving him one of his biggest second chances. He is a very kindly, old, half orc/human and is something of a legend. He came to the religious-military academy where Asim was serving under the juvenile delinquent program at JUST the right time.

Some of the older upperclassmen had thought it would be funny to teach "Juvie" (aka Asim) Five Finger Fillet and it went just as well as could be expected. Asim lost a finger and a bunch of distressed and a little drunk upperclass brought him to Erwin because Erwin is the Chillest Guy, and Erwin reattached it (being a high level cleric) and promised not to tell the teachers. Erwin kept an eye on Asim and grew fond of his... uh. Spirited nature. And recommended him for a town watchmen job, which helped Asim get out of the delinquent program early.

Asim and Erwin have an "old friends" type of relationship despite Asim being considerably younger than him, and Asim will often refer to him as "Sin'ji", which roughly translates to "brother" with the connotations of having known each other for a long time and being of a similar standing and age.

20. Has your OC ever done something terrible and lied about it? Did they run away or blame someone else for it? How long did they maintain the lie and did the truth ever come out?

Had to go back to put a head's up here: the following is a little heavy. It's not particularly bad or even explicit, just a serious topic taken seriously.

He would say yes, he has done something terrible and lied, but again, he's very hard on himself and doesn't lie - and can no longer lie since he's become fey! But it was never in his nature to lie in the first place.

There are a lot of things he hasn't told people, mostly related to some developmental disabilities and how they've impacted his life, especially when it comes to lashing out at people. He had a very hard time managing his emotions and overstimulation around his daughter - he was not ready for kids and perhaps was not a good fit for kids with the difficulties he has, but he tried his best and is continuing to try his best. Having a kid enter his life with so little warning was definitely a crash course in managing his shit. And he managed but not in a particularly healthy way.

He absolutely refuses to tell even his husband about the difficulties he's had with raising her, because he's afraid of being judged by his worst moments. He pampered his daughter and raised her to the best of his ability despite his difficulties, and with an inexplicable +5 wisdom his tiny little gob daughter understands and is such a daddy's girl she'd never tell anyone about his breakdowns. Those are private and for him to talk about when HE is ready.

The truth hasn't come out quite yet, but he will eventually confide in people, I'm certain. I'm torn on whether he'd confided in Erwin yet or not. He wrote him a lot of letters while he was isolated as a small town watchman. I think he has, and Erwin helped him work out some methods to manage himself.

This actually kind of hard for ME to talk about, haha. I'm undecided on the specifics of things so it's all vague. And the vagueness can lead to people... jumping to conclusions about he treated his daughter. Which I don't want - she is his little princess - but also I don't want to water down how much difficulty he had raising her by saying "and everything was all fine".

It's also a topic that is very close to me - I struggle a lot with over stimulation and the problems that come along with it - and I want to display his issues FROM the overstimulated person's perspective. I've seen a decent amount of media from an outside perspective, gawking at people having overstimulation and emotional regulation issues, and a lot of it demonizes or infantilizes the person. And the stigma that raises makes me very... worried about portraying these difficulties from the perspective of the person having them.

At the end of the day, I can just recommend to imagine how he acted similar to that of a grumpy old cat that gets overwhelmed by a kitten. But with a lot more guilt, temporarily self-isolating to redirect the lashing out towards himself verbally and physically until he could get the support he needed from an older less grumpy wise cat (Erwin).

This got a little heavy sorry eehh. It's something I've been wanting to talk about with regards to Asim but never knowing how because it's HARD. It feels like I'm telling his secrets that he's not ready to be open about. Pls be nice to him, he's trying very hard.

[itsjuneofallthings]

dear yuletide writer, 

This is my second yuletide and I'm still as lost what to put in a letter as I was last year, but it didn't stop me then either!

So, just let me tell you: 

Thank you so much for writing for me!

I hope this letter helps to spark some inspiration and  you'll have the utmost fun writing and please, don’t just write for me! It’s first and foremost for you and I’m just a happy beneficiary!

This being said, let’s get started: 

Likes: 

M/M Pairings (But I don’t mind and also like good written M/F Pairings, or M/M/F)

Friendships

Found Family Dynamics

Soulmate-AUs

Hurt/Comfort (dealing with PTSD, trauma, phobics, you name it, and being taken care of, getting help and being loved) 

Slow Burn

Smut (including, blowjobs, handjobs, analsex, fingering, etc, just mind the dnws please :))

Porn with Plot

Angst

Fluff

Happy Endings

Cuddling

Tender Touches (holding the neck, caressing the cheek/lip, hand in hair)

kisses 

getting together

first times

DNW: 

A/B/O Dynamics

Rape/Non-Con

Incest

BDSM

Dom/Sub

Daddy-Kink

Underage

Abuse of animals

Bloodplay

Watersports

Impact Play

de-aging

humiliation

vampires/werwolves AU

reader-insert

My beloved fandoms are

The Hurog-Series

Seriously, I LOVE THE BOOKS!

Oreg got me after his first sentence and I kept falling deeper and deeper for him. 

I love his banter, his wit and his power, and I love that he, as the probably most powerful mage walking around, still has boundaries. 

I love his and Wardwicks dynamics, the friendship, love and trust they share and of course I love Wardwick, our little dumb looking hero with heart of gold and caring nature. 

I also really, really love Tisala because she is a wonderful, loving person and a fierce badass and she wouldn’t hesitate to put Ward back in his place if she had to. 

That being said:

I’d love to read something about Oreg being taken care of, I’m sure he still suffers from plenty of PTSD and he deserves hugs and love and soft strokes through his hair. 

Maybe, if you’d also like, a polyamourus relationship between the three of them, maybe just deep and reassuring friendship moments between the dragon and the hurogmeten. 

But there is also Seleg! And so much that happened between them and- there are so many things to explore and so many stories to tell! 

I'm already excited! 

Anyway, I’ll be happy! 

A Quiet Place

These movies. 

THESE MOVIES. 

I love the world, the always luring danger, the silence, the smallest sounds are doom, the atmosphere. 

I love Regan and I love Emmett and I love Regan and Emmett (But NOT as a romantic couple! This is really, really DNW!)

I love their dynamics, the speech barriers, the taking care, the father/daughter-big brother/little sister vibes

To be honest, I have no specific prompt, I’d just love to read some fics of them.

(okay, while I’m writing, maybe ASL lessons? Their own language? Gift giving? Taking care of emmetts wound (Not in a weird sexual way)? the fallout after the radio station? I don’t- I just- you know? You know. 

Olympus has fallen (Movies)

Mike Banning is a walking disaster and I love him for that. 

he and his (imho) boyfriend are kinda doomed from the start (how good can something run, when it is your job to literally take a bullet for your husband?) but they make it work, while screaming “DRAMA” and running from terrorists. 

Again, I guess, no prompts for this fandom, too?, but I don’t (really don’t) mind canon typical violence and speech. 

I’m pretty sure someone REALLY needs to start to look after Mike before he burns out (wouldn’t that be a lovely task for our beloved president asher?) So yes, he also deserves some comfort (and to be honest: therapy).

That being said, also Ben deserves his PTSD outburst, his nightterrors after nearly being killed by terrorist (twice!) and his fears and panic attacks being take care of (and therapy) 

But this doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship, great friendships are also this: great.

Maybe they didn’t even like each other at the beginning? (Mike can be bossy, to be fair) ;)

Chernobyl

My beloved. 

Boris and Valerie have written hurt, no comfort wide across their lovely faces in big, bolt letters but they deserve some comfort nonetheless, right? Right!

I’d like the fear and the glooming doom, the invisible death, lingering in every breath take, the fighting against windmills and against invisible, untouchable party members who just order something so utterly stupid that-! 

I like the ship of them because the ever present fear of being caught, (generally don’t like homophobia, but canon and period typical homophobia are such a great fuel for drama and hurt/comfort plots…) and that middle aged men can still find and fall in love. 

But also, the friendship between these two is awesome and I love to read more about them. 

So, that’s it. 

I hope this got you some insight, feel free to also browse my ao3 for more, it this isn’t enough. 

have a great yuletide!

And, again, thank you so much! 

lots of love

masked_madness 

[mysticalrambling]

Ending It All Part 1 (C.E)

Part 2

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris wants to end your marriage and you decide to go along with it. You have to be civil for the sake of the kids but you are hurt. This process is too much for the both of you and eventually, it all ends.

Warnings: Angst all the way. 

._._._._._.

You had seen it coming from a mile. People say that a woman’s sixth sense is her greatest power. You always took pride in it but in this case, it was a curse. Chris and you have known each other for the past seven years and from those years, you were married for five. He was the love of your life. You thought it was forever but apparently you were wrong. You were wrong about so many things.

From the past six months, Chris has been home for a couple of days at most and then he was traveling. Traveling for work, for friends and whatnot. And for the days that he was here, he didn’t look at you like you were his wife, his soulmate. He looked at you like you were a stranger. Spending time with the kids was all he ever did and then came up with measly explanations to go off to bed early. There was no space left for you in his life. You thought that it was just a rough patch but that was not the case.

“(Y/N), we need to talk.” The determined look in his icy blue eyes said it all.

Taking a deep breath, you shakily replied, “Let me just put the kids to sleep.” Your energetic kids had tired out you for the whole day because you were off from work today. Chris had just come back from shooting and he didn’t give you a kiss like he usually did. In fact, he hadn’t kissed you like he meant it for several years now.

“I will be in the kitchen. You want wine?” He was walking away before you could even reply.

“Yeah, sure.” You mumbled out and you didn’t even know that he listened.

“Mommy, we are going to spend the whole day with you and daddy tomorrow?”  Mia and Jace have started to pick up on the fact that there was something going on between their parents. You wanted to keep all of this away from your four and two year old but it seems that you might have failed. You were failing at a lot of things right now.

“Yes, we will. Now, go to sleep.” It took you about half an hour to be put them to sleep and during that time, you were a wreck. There were a thousand possibilities running through your mind.

Coming back downstairs, Chris handed you the glass of wine, your favorite as always. He knew every little detail about you. “(Y/N), I don’t know how to say this but-”

“Before you finish that sentence, I just need to tell you that I promised the kids a day out tomorrow. Don’t ruin it.”

“I- I can’t say that.” Fiddling with his almost empty glass, he couldn’t bring it in himself to look at you. He was going to ruin this promise as well just like he was going to ruin everything.

“Just, go on.” You refilled the wine glass as you knew you needed the alcoholic haze to get through this conversation.

“I can’t do this anymore. This is just not what I want in my life anymore.” Your breath hitched and your heart broke into tiny little pieces.

Exact words were what you needed to hear right now. No vague statements. “What do you mean? What can’t you do?”

“This. This relationship. I think I am done. I am truly sorry, (Y/N).”

“Is- Is there someone else?” It was as if a ball was lodged in your throat and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk coherently. Fluently.

Chris looked at you, horrified. How could you even say that? He would never in a million years even think about cheating on you. Dignity was an important trait for Chris and if he ever cheated, he wouldn’t be able to look at himself. It hurt him that you would even consider this as a reason but he couldn’t blame you.

“No! This is not the reason. Not at all.” A defensive attitude was immediately taken up by your husband.

“Then is it me? Am I not enough for you?” Hot tears rolled down your cheeks but you didn’t have the energy to wipe them out.

“It is not you, darling. I just don’t think this is what I want with my life anymore. I want to solely focus on my career.”

“You are choosing your career over your family.” As the realization started to hit you, you couldn’t control the anger that took over you. “Over your family, Chris?”

“(Y/N) I am just done. I want an out and can we please try to be civil about this?” He pleaded.

“You want me to be civil about this? Fine.” You took a calming breath and closed your eyes for a second. “Just explain it to me. Maybe we can work something out.”

“I can’t- I don’t know how to explain it. Seven months ago I just woke up and I didn’t want to do this anymore. I want to start over.” A shocking chill passed through your body and you realized that it was hurt. You were betrayed.

“So you don’t want to do anything with me or the kids as well?”

“No. I want to be a part of their lives and-”

You looked him in the eyes and spoke in a broken voice, “It’s just me that you want out of your life.”

“Darling, no-” Chris tried to reach out for your hand but you placed them on your hands. He had lost the right to touch you from the moment he said that he didn’t want you. You were just a problem for him that needed to be solved.

There were years when he needed you every step of the way. Chris met you at a party that Scarlett threw. You were her best friend so you were invited to her New Year’s party. The moment he saw you, he was head over heels. He followed you around for two months to get you to go on a date with him. You used to tease him afterwards that he was a love sick puppy. But he was your love sick puppy.

That was not the case now and you didn’t know what you will do if he wasn’t in your life anymore. Your world revolved around your family but now it was all falling apart. You were falling apart.

“We can file for divorce tomorrow. Do you want to stay here tonight?” Wiping your tears, you got up from the stool and put the glasses in the sink.

“Uhh okay, okay. I can stay with Scott tonight.”

This was not what he expected. He expected you to cry, fight, scream. He thought there would be more discussion on this topic. Seven years were going to waste and you were treating this as a simple business transaction. Truth be told, you didn’t want him to see you fall apart. Chris had lost that right. If he didn’t want a life with you, then you were not going to beg him to stay. You were going to fulfill his wish and set him free.

“We have to take the kids out tomorrow. I was thinking the park.”

“What?” He was too distracted by everything to even realize what you were talking about.

“We will talk to them about the divorce tomorrow.”

“Isn’t this going a little too fast?”

“We should get this all over with as soon as possible. Goodbye, Chris.” Silently pecking him on his cheek, you went to your shared bedroom.

The moment your head touched the pillow, you were surrounded by his scent. The dam burst and you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face and getting soaked up by the cushions. What were you going to do with your life now? You had to come up with a plan to manage the kids together with Chris. You had to think about getting a job that would accommodate your kids in to it now that you were going to be a single parent. You didn’t get a wink of sleep last night and you cried a lot.

On the other hand, Chris was not doing any better. Scott gave him the spare guest room to sleep in. He didn’t know what was going on between his brother and you but he knew it was serious. Chris couldn’t sleep last night either because he was not used to. This was the first time in seven years that you both were in the same city and you were not sleeping together. You wouldn’t be sleeping with him from now on. He has to get used to that idea. The idea of you not being there every step of the way because this was his own doing. He was dreading tomorrow as he was the one who was destroying his family.

“Hi. I was just here to pick you all up.” Guilt washed over him when he noticed your red puffy eyes and eye bags.

“You didn’t have to. We could have come there by ourselves.”

“We always go to the park together. It is our thing.”

“We can’t do all of these things now. Everything is going to change.”

“Right.” You moved towards the kitchen and he followed you like a lost puppy.

“Daddy!” Both kids ran up to him and clinged to his legs like two little monkeys.

“Hey babies.” He held on to them a little bit longer because he knew he was the one who was ruining their little lives.

“Where were you? Missed your pancakes. Mama doesn’t make good.” Mia hadn’t learned to make full sentences yet but Chris understood her perfectly.

“I was busy, baby. I- I-”

“Go get your shoes on. We are going to be late.” You saved him from the conversation because he looked like a deer caught in headlight. Chris couldn’t answer his daughter as this was how it was going to be. He wouldn’t be there for all of this. The important phases. Jace’s first soccer win, his first award, or Mia’s first school day, her first break up, her prom. He was going to miss most of them because you would be there with them while he will get them for weekends mostly.

“Let’s go.” Buckling his kids in, he sat in the driver’s seat. When he pulled out of the garage, his hand instinctively went for yours. It was out of pure instinct. You retracted your hand immediately and Chris just drew in a shaky breath, He was not allowed to touch you now.

“I am taking them to the swings. Do you want to come with?”

“No, I am just going to my usual spot to read my book.” There was a maple tree that had been your spot for the past five years. It was where you rested and caught up with your reading.

“Okay.”

The next hour was spent with Chris going on to every swing with his kids. He didn’t want to miss anything. Plus, he didn’t know how he could sit with you under the tree that held so many memories. You told him that you will marry him under this tree and that you were pregnant with Jace. It was all too much. You couldn’t focus on your reading when this might be the last time you get to see him with your kids. The last time you were together as husband and wife. This might be the last time because Chris wanted you out of his life.

“Hey, kids. We have to talk to you.” You finally gathered up some courage when they all came to sit beside you. Chris couldn’t bring himself to start up this conversation so he was glad that you did.

“Yeah, Mommy?”

“So you know how your friend Oliver’s parents don’t live together but they still love him very much.”

“Yeah.” Jace’s whole concentration was on his ice cream but he still nodded his head to indicate that he was listening. Mia was too young to comprehend it all so you mainly focused on your son.

“Well, Daddy and I are going to be doing the same thing. We love you both very much and we will always there be with you.”

“But Ollie’s daddy doesn’t live with him.” His blue eyes focused on the two of you when he made the statement.

“Yeah, buddy. I will be staying at an apartment really near by. You both can come whenever you want to.”

“You won’t be there to read us night stories or make our favorite brekky?” His question threw Chris off guard and he froze in his place.

“He will be there to do everything for you guys. Mia and you can go to daddy’s place and he can do all this.” You jumped in when you noticed that Chris didn’t know how to respond to all this. “Right, Chris?”

“Yes, that’s right. Nothing is going to change, buddy.” Wiping away his tears, your husband placed him on his lap with Mia.

“Promise?” Mia spoke up this time because she understood that her daddy wouldn’t live with her like he always did.

“Promise. Let’s go back to the house. You both look tired.”

You placed Mia on her bed while Chris did the same for Jace. They both were out the moment they were buckled in their car seats. Coming downstairs, you prepared coffee for Chris and yourself. He always liked his coffee black so that’s what you made for him. The cup was placed in front of him and he sighed because no one made coffee like you.

“Our lawyer said that he will have the papers delivered to us by tomorrow.”

“Okay, I saw this new apartment building when I was coming here this morning. I might rent it out. The penthouse has three rooms. One for the kids and one is the guest bedroom. You can stay there when you bring the kids over.” He looked at you with a defensive position.

“I won’t be staying at your apartment so please don’t take me into consideration.” You didn’t understand why he thought you would ever stay over at his place. You would never subject yourself to that kind of pain.

“But there can be special circumstances and my home will always be open for you, (Y/N). We can still be friends.” He was hoping against all hope that you would agree. He still wanted you in his life.

“I don’t think I can do that. Be friends. There is too much history. Let’s just keep it to the kids right now.” You picked on your nails because you didn’t want to cry like a little girl in front of him. “And I am going to change houses as well so do you want to sell this one?”

“Why do you have to move?” Chris was shocked to hear those words come out of your mouth.

“I can’t live in a house that was meant to be our family house. I just can’t.”

He understood where you were coming from but this house held too many memories. He couldn’t think of another family living here. Some couple living in your master bedroom, some kids running around in your children’s playground, some other family’s picture instead of yours. It was just too much to think about.

“Let’s just keep the house. When the kids grow up, they can have it.”

“Okay. I am tired right now so I am going to bed. I will sign the papers tomorrow and send them over to Scott’s.” You placed the empty mug on the counter and stood in a straight posture. “You want the kids this weekend?”

“Yes, I would like that. Do you want to maybe come with us?” He didn’t know why he was not ready to let you go yet. This was all his doing but he just couldn’t accept it right now.

“Umm no. I think we should settle the kids into this new routine.”

“I guess you are right.”

“Goodbye, Chris. I love you and I will always love you.” You regretted the words that came out of your mouth the instant you said them. You were so stupid but you just couldn’t help yourself. This was probably the last time you ever got to say it.

“I- I love you too, (Y/N). I will always be there for you. Goodbye, darling.” The lump in his throat seemed to grow bigger by the second but he had to say this. Lightly pecking you on the lips, he knew this was the last time he ever got to do this. He left afterwards and you couldn’t help but tear up. The same thing happened with Chris. This was it. Your marriage was over but your love would always be there.

Hope you guys liked it!!

._._._._._.

A/N: I literally cried while writing this fan fiction. This one is particularly close to my heart so please let me know what you think about it. If you want to be added to my tag list, message me. I am also open to requests for this series; requests, blurbs, anything.

P.S: There is a part 2 as well.

Tag list: @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet , @luckyladycreator2

Like, comment and reblog.

._._._._._.

[dashofmonsters]

The Long Road- Pt. 12

Male Naga x F!Reader

He told you the plans about going to his home village but nothing about the grueling training in between.

You had taken up training with Adelita, Bralgar, and Kat after the manor fire that happened a week ago. Elli had invited you to stay at the main estate but you opted to stay at the manor where you and Silas had your nightly privacy.

Luctux had safely taken your father, Peter and Helena to the cover where they were taken in by Roslyn and her husband Kano and his people. They should be halfway to Hildaren by now.

Silas had started training with his uncles and took up learning medicine in his spare time alongside his mother. A slew of his father's family came in and out of the manor to greet him and share tales of his father's youthful stupidity and how lucky Silas was to have not inherit some of those foolish tendencies.

Today though, your father decided he was going to join in. At first it was just a spar and to yours and everyone else's surprise he was as spry and flexible as if he hadn't been drinking his life away on fishing boats. After you, Bralgar, and Kat got their asses handed to them by your father, Isa decided it was a good idea to take a break.

"We need to talk," your father takes you to the side while Kat and Isa look over Bralgar. He's been on the mend since the fight with the golems but Isa's remedies have him almost completely healed.

"About our family or the war?" you cross your arms as you turn to him. You haven't exactly been on the best of terms with your father but he's trying and so are you.

"The war," he sighs and then crosses his arms.

It's a silent staring contest for a moment, both of you tight lipped. Your father is the first to relent and he groans while kicking up some snow, "Plans have been made."

"And?" you watch your father shift from his awkward slouch to a squared stance.

"Notus is a slippery clever bastard. Nothing got under his skin until Aella died. Now, there's no telling what will set him off. So I asked a terrible favor of Luctux and now I'm asking it of you," his face contorts into several different emotions until he sighs long and hard. "He'll be casting an illusion of Aella and well... you're about the right height for it and-"

"You want me to pretend to be my dead aunt to piss off my very much alive and deranged uncle? Is that what I'm hearing?" you hiss.

"I don't like the idea that much myself daughter, but we need a way to provoke him. Have him slip up enough that we can send someone in while he's distracted," he lets out a heavy sigh and scrubs his face in frustration. "This won't be easy, not for you, not for me, not for..."

He pauses and looks over to Silas who's taking a break from teleportation training. Your father wasn't overly delighted at first when he heard about your relationship with Silas. Luctux had to keep your father from starting a fist fight with the poor naga after he heard and then cried later because his daughter has a lover.

"I know dad," you groan, snapping his attention back to you. "You both worry too much about me... Just, I guess let me wrap my head around this. It's crazy you do know that?"

Your father chuckles, "Oh aye, but looking like her is only the tip of the iceberg. Adelita and any surviving crew members will be with you to solidify the act. It'll be a rush job but it'll be enough to get my dingbat of a brother's attention."

You cross your arms and look up at the grey clouded sky as if it carried the answers to whatever questions you're mulling over. Getting in and getting intel is top priority, you learned after Elli finally came to those days ago.

She lost three informants when they were trying to slip into the castle. One of those three happened to be an old friend of hers, someone she trusted to get the job done and now she's gone. There was only one who stayed on the outside, watched and gathered the information about the royal families position.

Getting into Notus' ranks was top priority right now and distracting him to do so would seem too obvious. You look back down at your father and grimace, "There's more to this than just getting one of ours aboard his ship? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing I'm sure you can't guess yourself once we get to Dread Drop," your father replies and shrugs.

You instantly cringe at the thought of going to Dread Drop. The deadly cliffs that loom near the merfolk's cove. Your sister warned you away from them constantly when you were young and overly adventurous, scaring you away with terrible stories. But you went anyways and got an earful of how lucky you were that Kano saved you when you fell. You'd have felt bad if you hadn't seen what you did.

Dread Drop's view is possibly the best in all of Malredra if you can get to the point without getting tipped over by the wind. That and the cliff is amazingly solid versus the others you've seen crumble overtime by the constant crashing of the waves.

"Those cliffs are good as a vantage point but I don't know what else you'd have in mind up there," you try to think what else the Dread Drop could offer but nothing is coming to mind.

"When you went up there what else did you see aside from the rocks?" your father asks.

It had been years since you went up there, years since you made that terrible climb up the cliff and dropped what felt like hundreds of feet until a wave caught you and gently deposited you onto the shore. You remember the rocks and the butchered and burnt looking trees and what looked like the ruins of a house. Now that you think about it, it looked less like a house and more like a random pile of destroyed logs and salt worn rope.

"Hundreds of years ago Melmar was a naval port before Malredra declared its neutrality. Dread Drop didn't get its name for the deadly fall but for its use in testing catapults and trebuchets. According to Kano's people those tests resulted in a large number of merfolk injuries back then and well, it caused hundreds of years of stress between them and us land dwellers," your father's history lesson causes your gut to churn because you're now guessing where he's going with all this.

"Don't tell me that we're going to use me as a distraction to down some ships?" your chest tightens when you see him nod.

"Believe me, I'd rather you be off with Peter and Helena but you can fight. You said you want to fight and who am I to take that from you?" he inhales sharply, his breathing warbling as he exhales. "I've already taken so much from you and lost so much, but you wanted to travel, you wanted to be so much more and I feared that I was holding you back... I finally wanted to let go and when I let you leave with Valen's boy, I thought I had finally done it... But I-"

Your father's face contorts as he sniffles, trying his damndist not to cry anymore, "Out of all my children you wound up being the most like your mother. Curious, clever as hell, and more stubborn than anything. I am so proud of you and I hope one day that my children can say the same for me."

It's your turn to sniffle and hold back tears now, "I hope you know saying all that won't persuade me to go along with this plan."

He chuckles, "I'd never use such a shitty tactic and on my own kin, unlike your brother..."

Your snort laugh knowing exactly what your father's talking about. Peter was the eyelash batting flatterer who got both your and Roslyn to help him out because you two were 'soooo much better' at whatever he was trying to get out of doing.

"And now Helena has to deal with that," he shakes his head.

"Oh no, Helena does not allow that bullshit. She's the only one in Melmar who doesn't fall for his antics," you laugh.

Your father barks out in laughter and his shoulders shake pretty hard, "I guess it's a good thing I sent him to Hildaren then, he'd probably ask someone else to hold his sword."

Now you're busting out laughing because now you can't help but to picture Helena snatching a sword from Peter's hand and going forth into the fray. Thank the gods your father talked them into leaving and for Kano and his kin for taking them far far away.

"He really would be useless," you wipe your eyes and breathe in the sharp cool air and look around you. Silas and Bralgar are sparring now while Cavan is showing your aunt how to use a bow. Isa is tending to the wounded while Luctux is going over a handful of reports with Elli. Everyone is working hard to be ready for this war and you're over here... hesitating.

"You hesitated, that can get you killed my dear"

"You hesitate and I underestimate, both factors can get us and those around us killed"

Silas had been right and you're doing it again you think. You don't know if this plan will work or if it'll provoke your uncle enough to slip up but you can't deny everyone the opportunity to strike back if they can.

"Fine, I'll do it," you groan.

At that your father nods and trots over to where Luctux and Elli have been sitting at. You watch as the tiefling stands up, his expression hardening before he looks your way and his shoulders go slack.

Your father pats his arm and turns his attention to Elli as she asks him something. Luctux saunters towards you, hands taking up residency in the pockets of a coat that Elli slung on him earlier. You heard him protest about the gift saying he doesn't feel the heat of the summer or the cold of the winter but Elli wouldn't have it.

"You're really going to go through with this?" his eyes narrow and his voice tinged with a mix of concern and something that sounds like he's calling you a hairbrained idiot.

"What other plans do we have and do we have time to execute them?" you shrug ad Luctux's silent head shake was all the answer you needed.

"It's not the best but it's the only one we have to work with right now. Reports are saying that Notus will be heading to Melmar himself along with three other ships. I've contacted my cousin Arthok about all this but I can't say if he'll arrive on time," Luctux sighs and before he can say anything else the both of you jolt and turn around.

Bralgar is cursing a mile a minute as he's being suspended in air by Silas' tail. Your aunt is doubling over, barking in laughter and Elli is stifling a snorting giggle.

Silas looks smug as he starts to swing your orcish cousin back and forth.

"I will vomit on your fucking tail so help me! Put me down you fucking snake!" Bralgar curses which eggs Silas into doing something very stupid.

He slithers over and up to the nearest tree and deposits your cousin on the lowest branch. You hear a mix of laughter and cursing as your naga descends the tree looking like a proud petulant cat.

"Get me the fuck down from here!" you hear Bralgar yell.

"What happened to being able to handle any situation you're thrown into? Can't handle a little tree climbing?" Silas slinks back and waits and watches.

You shake your head and turn back to Luctux, "Whose bright idea was it to have them train together?"

Luctux shakes his head a grins, "Don't really know... shall we go inside and talk? I think there's too many distractions out here."

"It's fine," you shrug. "So about the illusion, will you be able to do it?"

"It'll be hard, I'll have to rely on the memories of those who knew her in order to stitch together something decent. Our luck will come from distance and the company you'll be in," Luctux flicks his fingers and tiny sparks of bright yellow magic flutter in the air.

"Will it drain you?" you ask, remembering him saying that he's stitched together by magic.

"Yes, but Charlie luckily brought me some old artifacts I can use to renew my magic. So no worries," he pats your head and chuckles.

Both you and Luctux fell into a strange moment of silence as you watched everyone spar or plan or pack for this war. Months ago you left home to travel for fun, to get out an experience the world. Now you'll be returning to Melmar to defend it. Not the trip back home you were expecting to make.

"I can talk to my cousin once this is all over about you and Silas boarding one of his ships if you'd prefer to travel a little further than up in Brakkor," Luctux offers.

You blink at him and smile, "That'd be nice but I wouldn't want to impose..."

"That dork owes me a few big favors, having you on his ship would clear up at least half of one," he laughs until his eyes dim to something distant, something far far away.

"And what about you?" you ask him.

"What about me?" his attention still seems far off.

"What will you do once this is all over?" you press.

His lips tighten and his eyes look towards Elli and then to the sky, "I don't know... Maybe I'll... maybe I'll visit some old friends, figure something out."

Before you can say anymore Elli calls him back over to help her go over some information she just received. Luctux bows out with a small sad smile.

"He avoided her once we came back," a familiar voice grabs you attention. You turn and see Cavan holding a large crate.

"Because he's a litch now?" you knew, almost everyone knew now.

"Yes and no... It's more complicated then him being a litch now. He's technically dead as you know, running solely on magic. There's a lot more to it and apparently his trip to the hells with me wasn't his first one. Luctux is a lot older than I thought, than he even thought. I aged ten years down there but he... he was there for decades... Him being a litch is nothing compared to what really happened all that time ago," Cavan swallows hard, a stern look of disgust on his face... not for Luctux but what was done to him.

"And that all came to light when he was with you there?" you ask.

Cavan's face twists and he groans, "Once again, yes and no. His memories had been tampered with so deep down he knew but there was a lock on it. When he became a litch that lock was undone and everything came back. I had to drag him out of there since our exit would only stay open for so long. He cursed me all the way to Delglen and that was that."

You look back to Luctux who's making a few dissatisfied faces at the paper he's reading while Elli sneaks a few glances at him.

"And yet even after knowing he's a litch she still looks at him like that," you gesture towards them and smile.

"Elli's unwavering affections have probably settled him but they'll be rejected in the end. I think they both know that, both realize that and are just trying to enjoy each other's company while they can. Elli is a realist and Luctux is too well...too Luctuxy to put her in any sort of danger," Cavan fidgets a few of his spidery legs and shifts the crate.

The both of you talk about the plan your father proposed and although he calls you stupid for saying yes to be illusioned as your dead aunt he can't see any fault in the plan. As you start on your personal history with the cliffs and how Roslyn met Kano you're suddenly being snatched up by Elli and her sistser.

"Hey wh- wait?!" you try to squirm out of the sisters' grasps but their grip is tight and their pace unwavering.

You hear Cavan laughing as the sisters drag you inside and corner you in the kitchen.

"Really?!" Elli crosses her arms in exasperation. "Do you know how dangerous this will be?"

"What sort of stupidity did you sign up for?" her sister's brows furrow as her hands plant firmly on her hips.

"This is about the illusion plan huh?" you guess.

Before either can nod a very tired, very annoyed looking Silas bursts through the door with his arms spread wide, "Are you fucking serious?!"

You roll your eyes and groan, "Is this going to be an ongoing thing today? Yes, I signed up to be illusioned as my dead aunt. Yes, I know how dangerous this is. But I'm still doing it."

The room became uncomfortably quiet, everyone shifting and trying to look away from you, everyone but Silas. His cool silvery eyes held your flaming gaze and for a brief moment you'd thought he'd try to protest but then he let out that long agonizing groan.

"And how long has this been a plan?" he asked.

"I don't know, maybe a few hours. My dad and Luctux know about it but I don't know if my late aunt's crew have been made privy of this plan. Everything is still in the works, we'll hold a meeting about it after dinner tonight. Word about the plan can't spread anymore or-"

Silas is suddenly shoved aside by Bralgar and Kat who look as furious as the sisters did but everyone just puts up a hand and shakes their heads.

"If this is about the illusion plan we'll be talking more about it later," Elli calmly states and walks to the door.

The crowd before her parts and before she passes under the frame she turns and smiles, "I better go out and do some damage control."

Elli herds Kat and Bralgar with her and her sister follows after she gives you a tap on the shoulder and a concerned look that reminds you of Roslyn and has your heart aching to know if your own sister was well.

"Discretion is not on our side if this is how word gets out," Silas sighs and slithers over to you. A cold claw gently rubs your cheek and you look into those calm silver eyes.

"We'll talk about that too tonight. How was training... aside from dumping my cousin in a tree?" you smile up at him and he rolls his eyes.

"It's been...infuriatingly insightful," he grits out. "I realized when he had me in a choke hold how much my defense was lacking."

You chuckle and look at the few already healing burns and bruises on your arm," Yeah I feel that. Adelita didn't go easy on me nor did Kat or my father."

Silas' face twists, "How has he been to you? He hasn't said anything?"

"He's been better I suppose, still heavy with his words but he's trying as much as a man who's been drunk a good portion of his life can try," you shrug. "I think he secretly feels bad about hurting you too, though I don't think he'll admit it."

"No, he probably won't," his eyes scan passed you and gaze around with no other cause than to avoid something.

"We don't have much time left till we depart back to Melmar. A few days at best I think. Will you go to your village first and meet with us later or...," you couldn't find the words then. You're too afraid to ask them, too afraid to give them life for what it might do. What line it might cross.

Will you fight with us? Will you fight alongside me?

This is war, you mentally smack yourself, there's no room for these sorts of feelings. You told him that you'd circle back around on a lot of things later, way after the war too.

"My father's kin will be helping me evacuate Havu. I'll be the familiar face getting them up and to someone who can teleport them. I can't teleport as far as my family can yet, but from the village to Melmar will be easy now," Silas states but neither confirms nor denies if he'll be there at all.

"When do you leave?" you ask.

"The-" he chokes, his clawed hands going to yours and grasping them, holding onto you, anchoring himself as he swallows hard. "I will leave the day after tomorrow. We're using a waypoint so we don't exhaust our magic but the journey on tail is at least half a day once we arrive."

You twist your hands out of his and bring one of his hands up to your lips and you kiss his palm. You feel him tense and tighten when you kiss him again and again.

"You'll save them all, you'll be the hero of your village," you kiss his hand again but then he retracts it, his hand balling into a fist.

"I don't want to be a hero," he spits. "I don't want to even do this, but who would warn my people? Why did your father have to be a fucking pirate? Why did the king back then kill your aunt? Why do we have to clean up someone else's fucking mess?!"

His fist slams the kitchen table and he runs his free hand through his hair over and over till it spills out of the braid. His entire body is shaking with pent up rage you know he's trying to keep under wraps.

"I don't want to be a hero either Silas, but I decided to fight for my home. Whether that makes me a fool or a hero remains to be seen. As far as I've heard these past couple of days there's already people in Melmar evacuating families and the orphanage. Anyone who wants to stay or wants to fight knows the risk,"

Silas sniffles and his lips twitch and tighten before letting out a string of groans and curses. You take a step towards him and flatten your hand against his chest and he stills, he's breathing hard and labored as he focuses on your touch.

"I know... I know," you run your hand up till it meets his cheek. His eyes are glassy and you know he's ready to burst. The stress, the anxiety, all sorts of expectations...

"Remember once this is all over, it'll just be us. Like it was supposed to be. But we need to be strong, just for a little while, ok Silas," you half expect him to cry into your hand but to your pleasant surprise he slides it to his lips and kisses your palm.

"I have half a mind to kick your uncle's ass myself for disturbing what could have been a very nice trip," he kisses you again and you giggle.

"Why because you planned to make me fall for you?" it was supposed to be a joke but the look Silas gives you then has your cheeks burning. You feel him smile against your hand before he kisses... kisses it and slides his tongue slowly to the tip of your fingers.

You snatch your hand back and he laughs, laughs in a way you've never heard before. It was dark and did things to your heart that you're positive that if he laughed like that again, it would cause it to stop.

Silas dips down and just as you feel his lips brush yours someone clears their throat. Silas nearly jumps out of his skin and backs away a good few feet and looks away.

"Needed to talk with ya about the plan... the both of you actually," your father clears his throat again and sniffles.

"We can talk more about it during the meeting after dinner," you reply.

"They can't know this part. No one can, not with how freely word gets out. I need this to be between just us... not even that tiefling can know. Please, for my own peace of mind... as your father," he pauses and looks to Silas, "and as an old friend of your father. Please, don't let me fail by not offering this to you two."

"What then?" you snip at him.

"If shit goes wrong Silas, teleport you and her as far away as you can. Don't teleport from Havu to Melmar, have one of your uncles or father's kin send you there. Don't waste a single bit of your magic, please...," he begs Silas.

The both of you look at each other, Silas' gaze not once wavering as he opens his mouth, "I would over exert myself to get her as far away as possible but your idea will buy me several extra miles."

"Good...and," your father coughs. "Thank you... hopefully you won't f- No never mind. Just, don't you know, die on us."

With that your father takes his leave and the kitchen falls into a thick silence. You don't know what to feel about this development so you decide to choke it down and set it aside. Set all feelings aside.

"My dear," Silas calls out to you, the end of his tail wrapping around your leg.

"What?" there's no warmth in your voice, almost as if the ifrit spirit in you has retreated with your emotions.

"I...I'm sorry. What your father asked of me, what I'll do, if it comes down to it-"

"Apologies aren't necessary Silas. It's just another plan. We should probably tell everyone to have a fall back plan. We know very little of the enemy, we've probably hardly scratched the surface in discovering the lengths of the cruelty and cunning. And the fact that Notus might show up to the...," your chest tightens and you feel light headed suddenly.

You turn to Silas, your eyes wide in the horror you just realized. You quickly shake his tail off your leg and run out of the kitchen as if lightning were at your heels. You run back outside and look around frantically for your father, for Adelita, for any old crew member but find no one.

As you turn to run back inside, Silas catches you, "What in the hells is wrong?!"

"Need to... need to find my father, the crew... I think-" you're panting as you try and squirm out of his arms but instead of holding you back, he let's go.

"You think so too?" there's a dark grim understanding in his eyes. "That the attack on Melmar, that it might be a set up?"

The both of you stew on that thought for a minute. The other attacks had been carefully planned and no one was the wiser till weeks later. Melmar though, they've known about it for a bit now. Time enough to plan and bring all the right people in. No, it can't be that easy... It's too easy not to be seen as anything but a set up, but for who?

A thought has your head snapping towards town. Mr. Gohar was a part of your father's crew, he knew you lived in Melmar. So the question now is, who else knew.

"Silas, can you teleport us to town?" you ask as you hold out your hand.

Without a word he makes to grab for you and as you feel his magic preparing for the jump, a dark figure latches onto him and then they vanish without a sound.

~~~~~

Silas gasps for air as he's slammed onto the ground and rolls out of the way of the stranger's dagger. He lashes his tail about till he grips a tree with it, all the while managing to keep the tip of the dagger out of his face.

The stranger spits on Silas' face over and over as they kick and writhe in the naga's grasp. With what strength he can muster while holding back his assailant, Silas pulls himself towards the tree and launches himself back up.

In a dance of arms, legs and tail, Silas manages to wrap whoever this person is in his coils. His teeth clench down on the dagger, a vile drop of poison hitting his tongue. He sneers at the taste then gives his assailant a vicious grin as he begins to lick the blade clean.

The stranger stills, their muscles going taut and their hand loosens on the small blade. Silas tears it from their hand and spits it onto the ground.

"If I let you live through this, you can tell Notus that poison doesn't work on me," Silas hisses to the stranger before tightening his coils.

He thought whoever it is would beg, would start cursing him, but then that terrible sound of maddening laughter began to ring through the forest.

"Notus?!" he barks. "You think I work for that bastard?!"

Silas bares his teeth and punches the stranger as hard as he possibly can, knocking the dark hood back. An elf clad in clan-like tattoos that Silas couldn't recognize. His eyes are black where they should be white and dim sickening white where there should be color and light. His grin is layered with rows upon rows of thin sharp teeth that makes every hair, every scale itch with the need to toss him aside and teleport far far away.

"I don't work for that sorry mad child playing revenge. No, my mistress has bigger plans and this war is just the beginning. The attack at Melmar will happen, there will be blood on the beaches of Malredra again. You can't stop this... she can't stop it either. But my mistress is not cruel, no she will offer-" the elf pauses and twirls his hand as if to look for the right word, "She'll offer the truth I suppose in return for a small tinsy tiny itty bitty favor."

As Silas considers, he allows his coils to tighten a bit more. The elf scowls at him as he does but the tighter the choke, the more people tend to talk.

"She knows everything about the prior war," the elf begins and Silas slowly lets up on his grip. "She knows about the tragedy that befell the three crews before they became pirates...She knows it all. She can tell you-"

"Who?" Silas grips even tighter than before, the elf patting the tail in desperation.

"Who is your mistress?" he asks again and loosens up just enough for the elf to speak.

"My mistress," he grinds out, his teeth gleaming like razors as he grins to Silas.

"Your queen."

[blu-joons]

Our Little Girl ~ Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Expecting Dad!Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Slightly descriptive pregnancy, labour and birth

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Your little girl has been what the two of you have dreamt of for so long, finally the time has come to welcome her into the world with Jungkook by your side.

“You know, for a man that’s about to raise a daughter for the next eighteen years at least, you’re looking rather cocky.”

Jungkook could only smile from the other side of the room as a grimace danced upon your face at the feeling of another contraction hitting you. You’d lost count of the hours you’d been almost doubled over in bed some time ago, barely able to keep your eyes open at the excruciating pain that you found yourself in. With each passing breath, the gaps of relief that came between contractions became smaller and smaller, almost unbearable.

You’d watched plenty of documentaries before your pregnancy to know what to expect, and yet as you found yourself staring forwards at the figure of your husband, keeping his distance from your growing temper, none of what you saw on the television seemed to play out before you. Under watery eyes, you could just make out the time on the clock hanging just above Jungkook’s head, 3:15am.  You scoffed at the sight, doubting even in yourself how much longer you could go through such an ordeal. Despite the several months you’d had to lead up to this moment, not a single part of it could truly prepare you for what was to come.

As another struck against the pit of your stomach, Jungkook raced back across to your side, resting his hands over your reddened ones that gripped tightly onto the rails beside your bed. Murmurs of encouragement came from him, words you’d listened to him repeat for countless hours, and still each time they somehow managed to make your heart a little bit happier. As he counted you through the breaths to see you through, his free hand brushed over your hair, ignoring the beads of sweat that had formed in your hairline as best as he possibly could, focusing on the task at hand and being the best possible husband instead.

“You’re doing so incredibly well,” he whispered as he noticed that the pain was beginning to subside once again, offering you the best possibly smile he could muster, hiding his own feelings of exhaustion that were beginning to come through. Your head nodded, tilting slightly to the left, biting down on your bottom lip until you were sure that the contraction had subsided. A small wriggle from your little one let you know they were done for the time being, waiting patiently, or impatiently, to make their grand entrance.

“You’re getting close now,” your midwife called out, stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on the corridor as she had done for most of the evening, and night. “I must admit, I’ve not seen many women get through labour as well as you have for quite some time Y/N.”

“I’m not really left with much of an alternative to get through it right now,” you sighed, throwing your body back against the bed, allowing the sweat ridden sheets to wrap around you. The end never seemed to quite be in sight, no matter how many times her cheery voice suggested otherwise. In fact, if Jisoo wasn’t quite such a sweetheart, you’d have probably given her what for a long time ago with all of her reassurances.

“She’s a strong girl, I always told you that,” Jungkook whispered from the side of you, grinning proudly across at the elder woman. “So strong I think I might end up having to take up one of your beds soon with a couple of broken knuckles, are women supposed to squeeze this hard when they’re in labour?”

Jisoo’s head nodded, having told you about her four kids several times throughout the night, she had experience on both sides. She’d seen it all, broken hands, broken noses, but best of all, hundreds of humans enter the world.  

“Y/N you do what you want, ignore your husband,” she teased.

Once again, your head could only manage a nod, too consumed by the everchanging feelings that were going on around your bump to truly pay much attention to what was being said around you. The beep of the heart monitor, murmurs of passers-by, shrieks of other women in the ward all seemed to amalgamate into one at this point.

“I don’t think we’ll have to wait around much longer for baby to arrive,” she advised the two of you, “but things are only going to get worse, are you sure that I can’t get you anything?”

“No,” you muttered, despite a concerned Jungkook looking down at your tired figure, “I said that I was going to try and do this naturally, and until I can’t take it anymore, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“No one would think any less of you if you wanted an epidural,” Jungkook reminded you, moving his hand back across to rest over your now much calmer one. “Or maybe gas if you’re not feeling a needle? We saw it on that programme, remember?”

“We spent an hour laughing at a woman too high to even push,” you scolded, shaking your head at the memory. It had tickled you at the time, but the more you thought about not being able to remember your baby’s birth like she had, the more off-putting it became.

“It’s all here just in case,” Jisoo spoke up anyway, pointing across to a small table that was at the back of the delivery room, “too many women change their minds last minute and then we have to leap into action with it all.”

“I bet you might end up having another case like that, she’s a stubborn one,” Jungkook joked.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you- “

You were cut off by another pain stabbing against your side, hurling your body forwards, instantly gripping tighter onto Jungkook’s hand, causing him to yelp. He sat further up in his seat, throwing his free arm around your back, tracing circles against the exposed bit of skin your hospital gown showed off. Your body didn’t have much time to react, snapping your eyes around to look at Jungkook, searching for any bit of help he could offer. Instead, he could only stare helplessly back at you, there was nothing that he could do to truly take away your pain, nothing that would make the experience better for you in that moment, instead all he could promise was to be the best possible father and husband once your little girl eventually decided to come into the world.

As the pain fell aside once again, you leant across to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder, soaking his grey tee, not that he minded, pressing a kiss against the top of your head.

“So strong,” he whispered against your skin, as he had done tens, if not hundreds of times since your water broke in the very early hours of the previous day.

“I feel so weak,” you hummed in response to him, loosening your grip against his hand once again, holding onto only his index finger, admiring the tattoos that he wore so proudly. “I always thought I was strong Kook, but even this might be too much for me.”

His head shook instantly at your words, searching across to Jisoo for a small piece of reassurance that could remind you how good of a job you were doing in delivering your miracle.

“Soon,” her voice called out, although it wasn’t much, it was a small bit of hope that you could hold onto that your ordeal would be done soon. You adored Jungkook, but the calls of the professional who had taken such good care of you made you feel a lot better in an instant.

“Soon,” Jungkook reiterated, tightening the hold that he had around your waist, inviting you to relax into his side as opposed to the bed that you’d been on for hours. “This will all be worth it; you just have to remember that through the hard times.”

Another hum came from you, tracing aimlessly against his calloused skin. “I wish it was as easy for me to believe that as it is for you to say it right now.”

“Y/N,” he whispered, kissing against your forehead once again, “please don’t start giving up on any of this right now.”

“I’m just tired,” you whined, fighting the urge to give your eyes even a second to close out of fear of what might happen if you did. “Every part of me is so tired right now.”

“I get it,” Jungkook assured you, refusing to let you go through the fight alone, “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this is for you right now my love.”

“Are you sure it’s too late for us to swap positions?” You joked, trying to remove the negativity that ran through your mind, “I think you’d love to be in labour secretly.”

“You know I would if I could, in a heartbeat,” he sniggered, raising his free hand up innocently, “it’s just such a shame that you’re the one that’s got to go through this. Trust me though, it’s not easy being a spectator, seeing you in so much pain is breaking my heart, I can only watch in awe of what an incredible woman you are.”

“You’ve got a good one there, Y/N,” Jisoo called out as she busied herself in the room, paperwork in hand, unable to stop herself tuning into your conversation. “You’d be surprised how many husbands sit back and relax during a time like this.”

“See, you’ve got a good one,” Jungkook continued to joke, tapping lightly against your arm, “can I get that in writing to remind her of this when this is all over?”

“I can change my mind,” Jisoo responded, drawing a light giggle out of you as the two of them continued to exchange innocent threats for a few minutes, until you chose to interrupt.

The mood of the room instantly turned sombre as a loud groan came from you, leaning forwards once again, breathing under the command of your husband. Whilst Jisoo continued to notice how much quicker your contractions came, Jungkook was solely focused on you, counting each time, resting his hands where you needed them, offering his shoulder back for you to rest on as soon as the contraction finished once again.

“I think I’ve decided something,” you whispered across to Jungkook once you’d caught your breath, “we are definitely only having the one child.”

“But I thought we agreed on an army,” he smirked, earning himself a slap against the bicep from you, although with your strength, the strike was pretty weak, even by your own high standards. Still, Jungkook grabbed at his arm, gasping at the sudden strength that had come over you. “Jisoo will tell you, I bet loads of women say that, but once they remember how sexy their husbands are, a quick trip to the bedroom, and suddenly baby number two comes along.”

“Have you ever met a man who makes sex sound so unappealing?” You asked Jisoo before she even had the time to respond to Jungkook’s comment. “It’s rather confident of you to assume that you’re that sexy anyway.”

Rather than answer either of you, Jisoo made her way across to you, asking Jungkook to give the two of you a bit of space as she checked how far dilated you were. You’d counted down almost every single centimetre, as if your little girl enjoyed teasing you before she was even a part of your world. Each time you hoped for the magic number, but each time Jisoo had muttered something else. You’d almost lost onto your last stretch of hope, that was until you looked across, noticing a wry smile etched across her face.

Before she even said the words, you knew exactly what the smile meant. As if your contractions hadn’t made things obvious enough, the expression on her face was the final touch you needed to know that at last that end was somewhat in sight. Once she called Jungkook back across to your side, his eyes locked with yours, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile, extending his arm out for your hand to intertwine with his. The relief was clear on your face, and in your hold, your body was in turmoil, but now it seemed as if you could finally begin to settle.

You were all too aware that there was a long road ahead of you, but just the thought of pushing appealed to your body and every part of you that was crying out for a rest.

“Ten centimetres,” Jungkook whispered beside you, “I bet that feels pretty good.”

“It feels pretty good,” you smirked, keeping your eyes on him as he sat back down in the chair at your bedside. “I had no idea the body could stretch as big as this, it’s surreal.”

Although he hadn’t taken too close of a look at everything that was going on at the foot of your bed, Jungkook had done enough research to know just how your body was changing. From the very first sign of a bump, Jungkook had waited impatiently for the moment that he finally got to see your little girl come into the world, the final change that would complete what the two of you had dreamt of for so many months.

“I love you,” his voice then whispered, just as your eyes looked away from his and down to your bump, “and our baby, I love our baby too.”

“I love you too,” you smiled, quickly looking back at him, “our little one is the luckiest girl in the world to have you.”

What came over the next few minutes felt like a blur to you, several instructions were sent your way, your body reshuffled with your legs propped up, pillows placed behind your back, and a towel dabbed against your head, but one thing remained, the hold of Jungkook’s hand tightly against yours, refusing to leave your side as the first few pushes began.

“This is ridiculous,” you huffed, just after the first few. You’d hoped for some sort of immediate impact, but your baby made no sign of movement instead. If you hadn’t spent hours laid in the hospital bed, you would have given up there and then, but there was one man that was never going to let you do that.

“Patience,” was all that Jungkook had to say, desperate to try and calm you down as he noticed how flustered you became. His hands pressed against your red cheeks before wiping underneath your watery eyes, failing to withhold the pressures that were placed before you.

Whilst labour was never something you expected to be a walk in the park, you could never have prepared yourself for the overwhelming feelings of pain that you’d end up enduring throughout your labour.

“If I push one more time, my body is going to cave,” you admitted, leaning against the cold metal of the rail against the bed. Jungkook’s head instantly shook, moving his arm around you to pick you back up, holding your back against the palm of his large hand.

“You’re far too strong to give up now,” he smiled, standing up from his chair to press a kiss against the side of your head, “there’s still pain relief if you want it, no one is going to think any less of you if that’s what you choose to do,” he reminded you once again, but still your head shook, you’d had plans for how your labour was going to go, and a natural birth was always top of your list of things that you wanted to see through. “Just hold my hand, and don’t break any of my bones and I promise that we’ll get through this together.”

Your eyes rolled at his warning, pinching especially hard against his hand to keep him on his toes, and make sure that he kept his mouth shut too.

“I’m only messing with you,” he whimpered, shaking at your hand for you to loosen your grip around him. “Just try and keep positive babe, we’ve jumped over too many hurdles over the past day to give up now. This one might just be a little bit bigger, but I know more than anything else in the world that you’re going to get over it.”

Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut, letting go of a shaky breath in the hope that it would keep you so composed. Rather than focus on the pain that came from your bump, your mind focused on the traces that Jungkook ran along the back of your hand, just like you’d done against his only a couple of hours ago.

“I just want to hold her and be done with this,” you continued to vent, opening your eyes back up, flinching slightly at the bright lights that came from all four corners of the room you’d somehow ended up calling home.

“I mean it when I say not much longer this time,” Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, perched on a stool, keeping a close eye on proceedings. “It’s natural to feel like you want to throw in the towel, there’s often a bit of a wait between dilation and pushing, not feeling anything can sometimes feel worse than the pain of a contraction.”

“You’re spot on,” you responded, forcing the smallest of smiles to your face, hearing a gentle giggle come from Jungkook. “At least the pain let me know that she was definitely moving.”

As if on cue, your baby began to make her presence known again, with Jungkook rising to his feet once again when he noticed how quickly you shot forwards. His arm reached out across your chest to stop you moving too far forwards, just as Jisoo had advised.

Something about this contraction just felt different for you though, as if your little girl was giving you a sign that she really was on her way. Although you couldn’t feel her drop, the pain certainly did. The smile on your face instantly captured Jungkook’s attention, unsure if he should worry, or be pleased to see a sign of happiness in your expression.

“I can feel her,” you whispered across to him before he even had the chance to ask, “it’s like she’s letting me know she’s on her way Kook.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He anxiously queried, looking across to Jisoo who’s head nodded. “She really is on her way, our little girl.”

“Our little girl,” you repeated, feeling his hands press to either side of your face, just managing to press the softest of kisses against your puckered lips before another contraction hit. His left arm instantly moved around your waist as his right hand held onto yours, it had become second nature for Jungkook now to step each time that your body called out for him, a murmur of his name was all that he needed to know exactly what you wanted from him, and as another contraction passed, he was relieved when he could sit back down again.

As soon as it passed, both you and Jungkook stared across to Jisoo, desperate for any sort of update she had on how things were going.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” she assured you, “plenty of pushes coming up Y/N.”

“R-really?”

“Hey,” a deep voice whispered beside you, brushing his thumb back across the pad of your hand, drawing your eyes across to him with the sound of your voice. “It’s going to be alright, we’ve talked about all of this, the two of us are here, and very soon our little girl will be here soon, remember why you’re doing this Y/N.”

“Pushing feels so real,” you slightly chuckled, feeling the beat of your heart quicken in your chest, “are you sure it’s really time to push?”

“Absolutely,” a cheery Jisoo smiled from the foot of the bed, repositioning your legs slightly so that you were a little more stretched out. “When the next contraction comes, I want you to take a big deep breath, and then lots of little pushes, let your body guide you rather than you guide your body. Listen to my voice, and most of all, listen to Jungkook too, he sounds like he has all the right things to say to you.”

“That’s exactly how we got into this position,” you sighed, shooting a glare in his direction.

“Unfortunately, it’s exactly how you’re going to get out of this position too,” Jisoo grinned, shaking her head as Jungkook leaned forwards to try and give her a high five. “Just support your wife,” she smiled, “I’ve spent less then a day with this guy and I’m struggling to see how you’ve managed to put up with him for so many years.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you called out, just as another contraction came. The mutters of ‘push,’ that came from both of the people beside you instantly set your body in motion, clutching tightly onto the rail, and Jungkook’s hand as you tried to push down as best as you could, grimacing at the pain.

By the time the contraction had passed, you could feel how quickly your bottom lip was beginning to swell, pouting across at Jungkook, who was unable to hide his surprise when he noticed how red your lip was.

“Still beautiful,” he complimented, leaning forwards once again to press a kiss against the reddened skin, “and so strong too. Who knew I managed to marry such a strong woman?” He questioned, receiving no answer from either of you. It came as little surprise to him, instead he grabbed the towel that was beside him and dabbed it gently over your forehead, and your lip too, trying to make the swelling as minimal as possible before you bit down again.

As another contraction soon came around, you couldn’t quite get your head around at how surreal it was suddenly all becoming. You’d sat with your little girl nested in your tummy for two days short of nine months, and now you could slowly feel her making her way down to enter the world. All of the fears and the doubts that you’d had about labour had been torn apart, your dreams had been blown so far out of proportion, no part of what you were doing felt real anymore. But for the two of you, it felt like the best, and worst, experience in the world, the pain had been hard, but slowly it was beginning to feel as if it was worth it for you both.

When the next contraction came around, the sound of Jisoo’s voice stopped you from biting down on your bottom lip, feeling her hand move a little further up your leg, carefully pushing your legs a little further apart, surprising even you by how flexible you suddenly were.

“I can feel something,” you nervously whispered, looking across to Jungkook who was trying to get the best look he could at what was going on from beside you.

“No need to worry,” Jisoo instantly replied to you, “but I can definitely see the first signs of your little girl.”

“Really?” You chuckled, feeling Jungkook’s head turn to look back across at you. His eyes looked at you for permission, as your head slowly nodded, encouraging him to stand up from his seat and walk across, peering over your leg to where the first sightings of your little one’s head could be seen. A quiet gasp came from Jungkook, squeezing gently against your hand, feeling his eyes watering at the sight before him.

“She already looks beautiful,” he whispered up to you, “I can’t believe she’s all ours Y/N.”

“I wish I could see,” you chuckled, trying your hardest to look past your bump, but failing with ease. You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering all the times you’d failed to see your feet, or bend down to change your shoes, only now, at the most important time, your bump had stopped you from getting your first glimpse of your little girl. A small part of you couldn’t help but be slightly envious that Jungkook had such a clear view from beside you of everything that was going on.

However, as soon as your next contraction hit, Jungkook’s attentions were turned straight back to you, sitting back down in a heartbeat as more encouraging whispers came from him. He’d never told you how proud and how in love he was with you than he had done today, but he also knew he could never love you more than the moment you brought his child into the world.

The late nights, early mornings, and everything that came in between during your pregnancy had been hard on you both, but everything that you needed from Jungkook, he did with a smile. He could never appreciate enough how incredible your body was to carry his little girl, to nurture her so perfectly and give her such good health. There was simply never going to be enough that he could do to repay you for everything that you’d given him over the last nine months, and for the rest of his life too.

“Y/N, keep pushing!” Jisoo’s voice called out, snapping you out of the small daydream that you found yourself in. By the sound of her voice, you knew that something significant was happening, with adrenaline the only thing keeping you going, you did as she said, pushing as hard as you could, paying close attention to the sound of Jungkook’s voice, the only thing that had kept you going through out.

“She’s coming,” he whispered, flickering his eyes between you and your baby, noticing how quickly she seemed to be arriving. Your head nodded, repeating his words over and over again in your head, the only boost of motivation that you needed to dig in to somewhere you didn’t know you had, using up every last ounce of energy that you possibly could.

“Kook,” you whimpered, as you felt the contraction begin to collapse again.

“Just one more,” Jisoo then called out.

“You can do it,” he urged, leaning closer in towards you.

Although your head shook, your body still pushed, and soon the cries of your little girl could be heard ringing throughout the room, as tears fell from both yours and Jungkook’s eyes, feeling his hand slip out of yours so that you could collapse down against the bed.

“I love you, you’re incredible,” he chimed, giving you a moment before leaning over you, brushing the hair out of your face, coupled with a lingering kiss against your forehead, ignoring the droplets of tears that fell from his cheeks against your own. “She’s here Y/N.”

In just a matter of moments, Jungkook moves away from your side, replaced with your little girl settling against your bare chest, with Jisoo dabbing away at her to remove the markings of blood, stretching out of her limbs and making sure to clear out her airways.

As your eyes looked down at her for the very first time, your breath was taken by what was before you. “Wow,” was all you could whisper as you studied every fine detail of the bundle you held tightly against your chest. “Look at you,” you soon added, sniffling back the tears that fell.

Jungkook’s hand reached across, wiping underneath your eyes, perching himself on the end of his bed. He used the tip of his thumb to trace over the top of her head, feeling along her arms, staring in awe of how tiny each digit of her hand was. Neither of you could look away from her, all expectation you had had been succeeded, unable to comprehend what you had just endured.

“Our little girl,” Jungkook whispered, leaving a kiss against the top of your head with his words. It had been the saying you’d had for her since the moment you found out it was a girl that you were expecting, and yet somehow neither of you could correlate that the little girl you’d wished for was finally in front of you both.

“Congratulations,” Jisoo spoke after a few moments, scribbling down on some papers attached to her clipboard. “I’ll give you both a second to adjust, you’re new parents after all.”

“We’re parents,” Jungkook muttered in a moment of disbelief, continuing to stare wide-eyed at your daughter, silently reiterating the promises he’d made to her most nights when he laid beside your bump, trying to help you get to sleep. Although she was still attached to you for a moment through the umbilical cord, his body was itching to get his first hold of his little girl, feel the body and the heart he was going to protect for the rest of his life. “Thank you,” he whispered across to you once he finally looked away from her, “it’s never going to be enough, but thank you for being so strong, and for being the best wife, and mum in the world.”

“How can you say that when I’ve only been a mum for five minutes?” You teased, bringing a smile to Jungkook’s face. His eyes rolled at the chuckle that followed your question, knowing if it wasn’t for your little one, he’d be attacking your side in an instant.

“I just know, call it instinct,” he assured you, “and I’m going to make sure that this little girl knows what a special mummy she’s got to. I’ll never let her take you for granted, just like I never will, ever again. I’m in your debt forever, nothing can make up for all of this.”

“You know, we can’t call her our little girl forever,” you hummed, noticing how quickly Jungkook’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name. Several had been exchanged between the two of you, and yet one always seemed to stand out to you both, almost as if it was just meant to be, her name was her destiny.

“Is it still the one that you want?” Jungkook asked, making sure you didn’t have any doubts.

“Just looking at her, she suits it,” you hummed, taking any excuse that you could to get a glance of your daughter. “Don’t you think, it’s perfect for her?”

Jungkook’s head nodded, leaning across your body to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head, treating her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world. As her name fell from his lips for the very first time, Jungkook knew you were right, it was perfect for her, and the perfect name to complete your family too.

“Can you believe we have her forever?” You asked him, brushing your thumb over the top of her head, “we don’t ever have to give this one back, or keep her only for a night. We never have to let her go, she’s ours, always.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever believe that I’ve been so blessed with the two of you,” he giggled in his confession, “every day, my little girl, and my incredible wife, I will love you.”

“She’ll have you wrapped around her finger in no time, I bet,” you laughed, “if she’s anything like you, we might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now, because she’ll be causing trouble in no time.”

“I hope she takes after you,” Jungkook acknowledged, staring back at you, “everyone will fall in love with her, just like I did with you.”

“Do you still love me after I almost broke your hand?” You teased, staring across at his still slightly reddened hand.

“Y/N, I have never loved you more than I do right now, and I’ll love you more and more every day. You’ve given me the greatest gift, love just isn’t enough.”

“We love you too,” you smiled across to him, feeling his lips peck against yours.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.”

---

Masterlist

[imagineyourworld]

The Wife

Wolffe x Fem!Padawan!Reader

Summary: When visiting a backwards village Plo Koon’s Padawan has to pretend to be married to Commander Wolffe in order to get the residents to back off

Warnings: Misogyny, a bit of nudity, a bit spicy making out

Check out my other work here

-------

You had been walking for what felt like hours when your Master, Plo Koon, received a message and asked you to join him at the front of the train of walking soldiers.

“(Y/N), my dear, I have some unfortunate news”, he started.

You looked at your Master expectically. Unfortunate news could mean basically anything and you could only hope that it wasn’t anything that would massively complicate your relief mission.

“As you know we’re going to deliver supplies to the Gonchee people here, and we don’t know much about them.” You simply nodded, not wanting to interrupt your Master, who continued just a moment later. “Master Yoda just forwarded me recent information we gained about the Gonchee. It seems they see human women as nothing more than, for a lack of a better word, prices or trophies to be won or taken.”

Your curious expression morphed into one of shock and disgust. Of course you knew that not every planet had the same standards when it came to equality between the sexes, but this level of misogyny was something you hadn’t expected to be confronted with.

“If I had known earlier I would have offered to let you stay on Coruscant or accompany another battalion”, Plo tried to apologize. But you just shook your head.

“It’s quite alright, Master. If I am to be a Jedi knight soon I will have to learn to handle situations such as this one, though I cannot say I am happy.”

Plo put a heavy hand on your shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He knew you were capable of handling yourself and could fight off a couple of Gonchee if necessary, but as your Master he still felt responsible and worried for your safety and wellbeing.

“Master Yoda also said that the Gonchee usually don’t bother married women, they consider them to be claimed by their husband.”

You looked up to your Master, expecting him to continue, but he just stared straight ahead, his expression never betraying his thoughts.

“I am not married, though”, you finally said.

“No, you’re not. You’re a Jedi and shouldn’t have attachments”, he answered. 

Part of you wanted to correct him. You were not a Jedi, not yet at least. But the other, bigger, part was overjoyed your Master considered you a Jedi and not just a Padawan.

“I suppose I could ask Commander Wolffe to pretend to be your husband. Just for your safety, of course”, Plo continued. 

For a fraction of a second you lost your balance, but quickly managed to catch your footing again. He couldn’t know about your crush on Wolffe, could he? Sure, your Master was a great Jedi, strong in the force, and he knew you better than anyone, having raised you like his own daughter, but you have been so careful to hide your feelings for your commander. 

“Only if that’s what you want, of course.” 

You took a moment to consider the proposition. Feelings aside, it was a good idea. If being ‘married’ would make sure the Gonchee wouldn’t bother you and ensure you could do your job that was a good thing, the rational thing to do. 

Finally you nodded. “Only if Wolffe wants to, though. Otherwise I’ll ask Sinker.” 

-------

-------

Wolffe hasn’t been watching you and the General, that would be ridiculous. And of course he hasn’t noticed how your hair shines in the sun or how you smile at your Master with love and trust in your eyes. And when Plo Koon asked to talk to him a while later he wasn’t hoping to find out more about your conversation with him, that thought never crossed his mind. 

“Wolffe, I have a favour to ask you.” 

Wolffe simply nodded. He would to anything for the kind Jedi who treated him and his brothers like actual people, who never showed them anything other than respect. 

“Of course, General. What is it?” 

“I want you to be married to (Y/N).” 

It took all the self control Wolffe could gather not to look at the Jedi, not to blush and not to let his feelings show. 

“Is this a test?”, he asked. Though it seemed out of character for Plo, maybe he was trying to get Wolffe to confess his feelings for you. Feelings he had spent months and months trying to deny and repress, feelings that would get him in more trouble than he could ever imagine if anyone were to find out. 

“No, no”, the General reassured his Commander. He then told Wolffe about the situation and why he was asking this of him. 

Wolffe nodded along with the explanation before finally daring to look at Plo. 

“Did (Y/N) suggest me as her fake husband?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and steady. He knew it was a arisky question that might tell the Jedi more about his feelings than he should know, but he couldn’t help but wonder and he wouldn’t agree if you would rather be fake married to one of his brothers instead of him. 

“It was my idea, though she seemed to be quite happy with you as her ‘husband’“, Plo answered in a tone that told Wolffe the Jedi had to be smiling under his mask. “I just thought you were the obvious choice, considering how close the two of you are.” 

Wolffe nodded, not knowing what to say. 

“That makes sense”, he finally said. 

Plo looked at the young man next to him. Though Wolffe’s expression was usually stoic, now it was even more so. It seemed forced, as if he was trying his best not to let any feelings show. The General couldn’t help but realize just how similar the clone’s expression was to yours just a bit earlier. 

“Maybe you should go to (Y/N) to discuss how you’re going to handle the situation. I’ll inform the others to play along”, Plo suggested after a few moments of awkward silence and with a quick “Yes, sir” Wolffe turned around to find you amidst the soldiers. 

-------

By the time you were nearing the village, you and Wolffe had just finished your plan. 

“Let’s go over it one last time”, he suggested. 

You opted not to tell him that that would be the third ‘one last time’, partly because you knew he didn’t like being corrected and would not hesitate so snap at you, partly because going over this plan like any other mission made it easier for you to let it sink in that this was just that, a plan, a mission, pretend. You were not married to Wolffe, nor would you ever be. The two of you were friends, nothing more. Because no matter how you felt, how you’ve been feeling for quite some time now, you could never be together, even on the off chance that Wolffe reciprocated your feelings. 

“The Gonchee don’t know anything about Jedi, other than that we’re here to help, so they won’t find our ‘marriage’ suspicious. We’ll them we met at the beginning of the war and have been married for a couple of months. Really, Wolffe, it’s not that complicated, I’m sure we’ll both be able to remember to play the part.” 

The snark reply you had been expecting didn’t come. Instead Wolffe simply nodded and stared straight ahead. 

“Just remember to keep physical contact to a minimum”, he reminded you for the fifth time. 

You rolled your eyes. Sure, Wolffe had never been one for hugs and cuddling, unlike many of his brothers, who often seeked you out for a comforting hug, but he really didn’t have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself every couple of minutes, you were not some hormonal teenager. 

“Will do, Commander.” 

Without another word, or even so much as a nod, Wolffe speeded up his steps to join Master Plo at the front. 

“What’s gotten into your husband?”

You turned around to find Sinker looking at you with an amused expression, Boost right beside him sporting a smug grin. 

“Guess he’s just not too thrilled about being fake married to me”, you tried to joke, even though just the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. Of course you knew nothing could ever happen between you, but you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hoped that this mission would allow you to pretend for just a little while, to maybe get closer to him. 

“If he really didn’t want to do it, he wouldn’t do it. I heard him talking to the General, Plo asked him, he didn’t order him. Wolffe could have stepped down and let one of us take his place. And I’m sure most of us would have happily done so”, Boost claimed, laying a hand on your shoulder and sending you a warm smile. 

Maybe it would have been better to do this with someone else, someone who would put his arms around you to really sell the story and who you could laugh about the whole affair with afterwards. And yet you knew that being in a ‘relationship’ with anyone other than Wolffe would have been worse than Wolffe’s obvious dislike of the whole situation. 

“It’s fine. Wolffe’s just being Wolffe, he’ll come around once we arrive at the village”, you tried to reassure both the troopers and yourself. 

-------

Wolffe had, in fact, not come around by the time you reached the village. He had spent the rest of the way talking to your Master and completely ignoring you. It was moments like this that made you question why you even had feelings for him, he was so hot and cold, sending you gentle smiles and sharing inside jokes one moment and acting like you didn’t even know each other the next. But it was those few moments when his gentler side, which you alway thought was more his true self, showed, that kept you hooked. 

It was Plo Koon who interrupted your thoughts by asking you to join him and Wolffe at the front to greet the Gonchee. 

The small creatures were no bigger than Jawas, had greenish fur and ears that reminded you of Loth cats, other than that they looked pretty human. 

“Good evening. I am General Plo Koon, these are Commander (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Commander Wolffe and the 104th. We were sent by the Republic to deliver supplies and help you reset your village.”

The Gonchee at the front, who seemed to be an older man, bowed his head slightly, the others, all male you realized, followed suit. 

“Welcome, Jedi Koon. I see you have brought a female with you, I don’t suppose she’s here to stay with us?” 

The way he licked his lips with his yellow tongue made you shudder. You could sense resentment practically rolling off your master at the Gonchee’s words, but more than that it was Wolffe’s arm around your shoulder that calmed you. 

“My wife will most certainly not stay with you, she’ll be by my side, always.” 

Maybe you imagined that his arm tightened around you as you leaned into him, but you certainly didn’t imagine the growl coming from his throat as the Gonchee looked you up and down. 

“Such a shame. Having a human woman is an honor to us, you know and this one seems to be a fine specimen. You’re lucky to have her.” 

Though his words sounded as if he was buying your lie and letting go of the thought of having you, whatever that meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he, or any other male Gonchee, would leave you alone. Not even Wolffe looking at you from the side, a small smile on his lips, could relief you of your anxiety. 

“I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy every minute I have her next to me.” 

His words were directed at the Gonchee, but somehow they felt like more. Like something one would whisper to a lover in private. 

It was only when Plo spoke up again that you could tear your eyes away from Wolffe, from his warm gaze and full lips. 

“The men will bring in the supplies now, if you’ll allow, and then we’ll settle for the night.” 

The Gonchee at the front nodded. 

“Of course, of course. Though the lady should stay with the other women. You see, we don’t allow women to do any physical labour. 

-------

Several Gonchee had offered to accompany you to the hut the women of the village spend most of their time in, but you had declined. That didn’t mean you could go alone, however. The entire 104th seemed to have noticed the glances the male Gonchee shot you and had silently agreed to never let you out of their sight while you were in the village. Which is how you found yourself with your hand in the crook of Wolffe’s elbow, being lead to the ‘women’s hut’ as it was called. 

“I’ve been to many planets and have met people of many cultures, but none of them were as backwards as the Gonchee. If they could see you in action they would know not to look at you like that”, your companion grumbled. 

You swallowed down the urge to tell him that quite a few shinies have made their moves on you in the past, though you had shot all of them down and had to admit that none of them reduced you to your body the way the Gonchee did. 

“It’s only for a couple of days. It’ll be like a mini vacation for me, not having to do any work.” 

You could feel Wolffe eying you from the side but refused to look his way. 

“I wish I could stay with you”, he said, more to himself than to you. “I mean someone. I wish someone, one of us, could stay with you.” 

You chuckled. It was rare to see this side of Wolffe, the side that corrected his words, that stuttered and almost seemed nervous. 

“I’d like you to stay. But you have a job to do and I can defend myself, should anything happen.” 

You placed a hand on his arm, and though you were sure he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid armor, he seemed to relax just a little bit. 

“We both know that I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s only for a couple of hours, I’ll be with you again before you know it.” 

He nodded, but the frown never left his face entirely. 

“I’ll have someone come in and check on you every now and then. It’s not without reason that we have to pretend to be married, we cannot be careful enough.” 

Wolffe’s tone told you that there was no use in arguing. And maybe he was right, if even your Master, who you knew would never disregard your ability to fend for yourself, thought it would be safe to always have a man, to always have Wolffe, with you, it couldn’t hurt to be safe rather than sorry. 

“Sounds reasonable.” 

Just as soon as the words left your mouth you stopped in front of the the small building the Gonchee had told you to go to. It looked ancient and primitive compared to the skyscrapers on Coruscant and shining starships you were used to, but through the open door you could spot pillows and blankets and a roaring fire inside. At least you’d be comfortable.

The women inside seemed to have heard you approaching, because most of them stopped their work and conversations to catch a glance at you and Wolffe. 

“I guess this is it”, you said more to yourself than your fellow Commander. He nodded nonetheless. 

“Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless.” 

You tried your best to swallow any remark since your usual answer to something like that would be exactly what Wolffe would describe as “reckless”. 

“I’ll see you soon”; you replied instead. And because you could still feel the eyes of the Gonchee women on you, you lifted yourself up on your tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to Wolffe’s cheek. After all, you had to make your marriage believable. 

The low noise Wolffe made shocked you for a split moment. It was a mixture between a grunt and a sigh that didn’t speak of surprise as much as... disbelief? You couldn’t quite place it. Though you tried not to think about it too much as your turned away from him and entered to hut, where the women started questioning you immediately. 

-------

True to his word Wolffe had sent someone of the pack to check in on you every ten minutes or so, but despite their reports that you were perfectly fine and just talking to the women of the village, Wolffe only felt a sense of relief when he saw you again himself. 

You were sitting next to Sinker on one of the many logs surrounding the fireplace. The rest of the pack as well as Plo Koon were either on logs or the ground nearby while the Gonchee, mostly the men but a few women as well, sat on the other side of the fire. 

As Wolffe stepped closer you lifted your head, and as always he couldn’t tell whether you had heard his footsteps or felt his force signature. 

The old Gonchee who had greeted you was the first to speak up. 

“Ah, the husband returns. Such a shame, I had thought I might have a chance with that lovely woman of yours after all.”

Wolffe knew that the polite thing to do would be to answer him, but one of the first things General Koon taught his men was that it was better to say nothing at all if you didn’t have anything nice to say. So he simply walked over to where you were sitting and squeezed himself into the space between you and the end of the log, which resulted in you being squished between him and Sinker. A scenario Wolffe, being the overly protective man he is, usually wasn’t too fond of, but in this the more of the Wolfpack were around you, the better. 

It was only when he felt you moving impossibly closer to him, when he smelled the last clinging bit of your sweet perfume, that had somehow endured the walk to the village and your time in the women's’ hut, that he was finally able to relax. You’d be right next to him, or at least one of his brothers or the General, for the rest of the night, meaning you were safe from the Gonchee for now. 

Suddenly he felt your lips right next to his ear, your breath hitting his skin. 

“If we wanna sell this marriage you cannot just sit there like a droid, Wolffe.” 

The way you whispered, almost purred, his name made shivers run down his spine. And though he tried to suppress it, your soft giggle told him that you’d noticed. 

With a small sigh he put his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer to him. So close that he could practically feel your body melting into his, though he tried not to think about how right it felt to have you in his arms, how your body seemed to perfectly fit right next to his. 

“Is this better?”, he whispered in your ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you biting your lip and even pressing your thighs together. He shook his head, he must have imagined that. It was probably just you trying to get comfortable in this new position. 

“How long have to two of you been married?”, one of the younger Gonchee asked. 

For just a moment you tensed beneath Wolffe’s arm before relaxing again. 

“Just a couple of months”, you replied. Your smooth lie impressed Wolffe, being raised by Plo Koon you were usually a fan of telling the truth and he couldn’t help but wonder where you learned to lie like that. 

“And you let your wife fight?”, another Gonchee asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. 

Wolffe sneaked a glance at you. How could anyone look at you and not see a warrior? Sure, your appearance might not be the most threatening, but wasn’t it obvious that the way you pressed your lips together spoke of determination? That you eyes told anyone who looked into them how much you’ve been through and how deeply you cared? That your hands were calloused from holding a lightsaber and yet soft enough to comfort a clone in distress? 

“It’s not up to me whether she fights or not.” 

A grumble of disagreement was heard from the assembled Gonchee, or at least from the men. 

“We are very fortunate to have a warrior as great as (Y/N) fighting besides us every day”, the General said after a while. For anyone who knew him it was obvious that he was trying to end the subject while defending you at the same time, but the Gonchee seemed to think of his statement as a challenge. 

“But what about children? How will she carry children if she is fighting? 

From the way your shoulders tensed underneath Wolffe’s arm he could tell that you were close to telling the Gonchee of once and for all, and apparently SInker on your other side could tell as well, because now he jumped into the conversation. 

“They’re still newly weds, children can wait until the honeymoon phase is over, don’t you agree?” 

The oldest Gonchee leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. 

“We do not care for such sentiments. Our women cook our food, sow our clothes, take care of our children and warm our beds, believe me, it’s easier that way. Perhaps you should try it, Commander.” 

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Wolffe looked at you. Of course you knew that you had to represent the Republic wherever you went, but usually that didn’t stop you from speaking up for what’s right. He wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed by or concerned about your self restraint. 

“It’s very different in our culture. We marry for love, most of the time at least”, you finally said. And if he hadn’t been staring at you already Wolffe would never have noticed the way your eyes flitted over to him when you said “love”. 

Several of the Gonchee opened their mouth to argue, but lucky for the entire 104th a few women carrying trays with various foods and drinks appeared and rendered the men silent. 

-------

Shortly after a near silent meal your Master stood up. 

“I suppose it would be best for us to call it a night. We will have to be up early tomorrow if we want to reach out ship again before nightfall.” 

The Gonchee leader stood up as well and slightly bowed his head before the Jedi. 

“Very well. We have prepared our assembly hut for you, I will show you the way.” He stopped for a moment and looked over to where you were still sitting between Wolffe and Sinker. “Though I know you follow different customs, we Gonchee do not allow women to sleep in a room with people they’re not related or married to, which is why we have also prepared an empty hut for the Commander and his wife. And I suppose they will need privacy so she can perform her marital duties. My son will show them the way” 

You were quite certain that at one point throughout the day your own rank as Commander had been mentioned, but even though you really wanted to correct the old Gonchee, you were tired of dealing with them all day and decided against it. Though the same could not be said for the Wolfpack. Several of them, including Wolffe and Sinker next to you as well as Boost next to Sinker, spoke up to correct him. 

A younger Gonchee, who you assumed was said son, stood up and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Alright, Commanders”, he said. The ironic way in which he pronounced the word made Wolffe roll his eyes, which by now you could tell even if you weren’t looking at him. “Follow me.” 

The two of you bid goodnight to the others and did as the Gonchee had said. The thought of probably having to share a bed with Wolffe crossed your mind for a moment, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though as soon as the son opened the door to a small hut, smaller than any you had seen before, it returned. 

The ceiling was low, the room was small and the only pieces of furniture were a small bed and a single bedside table. 

“It’s not much but it’ll do for the night”, the Gonchee said. Though the words were probably supposed to be apologetic, his tone was anything but. 

Wolffe, bowing his head due to the low ceiling, stepped into the hut while you remained outside. That, however, proved to be a mistake just a moment later, because the Gonchee stepped closer, closer than you would have wanted, and looked up at you. 

“You might rather spend the night in my room, it’s bigger and more comfortable and I could really use someone in my bed, especially a pretty human woman such as yourself.” 

Due to his words and the way he eyed you, especially with your private parts almost in his eyeline because of his short height, you wanted nothing more than to punch him. Maybe kick him. Maybe cut off something of his with your lightsaber. And if it hadn’t been for Wolffe you would have, and ruined your mission within a split second. 

But there was Wolffe, knight in plastoid armour protecting you from any rash decisions. He had left the hut and was now standing behind you, from where he put his arms around your middle and, you were sure, glared daggers at the Gonchee. 

“I suggest you leave my wife alone”, he growled and tightened his grip on you even more. 

You weren’t sure whether it was his words, the growl or his arms around you and your back to his chest, but something about his behaviour did something to you. Something that would make it a million times harder to share a room, share a bed, with him tonight. As if your crush on the Commander wasn’t already bad enough...

“I thought in your culture you love the one you marry and if you love this woman you wouldn’t want her to miss out on spending a night with a real man, would you?” 

If the situation wasn’t so tense you would have laughed. A real man? He was covered in fur! 

“Wolffe gives me everything I need and more. I wouldn’t leave him for any man in the entire galaxy.” 

It was only when the words left your mouth that you realized just how true they were. You really had to get that under control, having a crush on your fellow Commander was bad enough, you would not allow yourself to actually fall in love with him. You couldn’t jeopardize your friendship, your future as a Jedi knight, everything and everyone you’ve ever known for a man who you knew thought of you as a friend. 

The Gonchee looked you up and down one last time before glaring at Wolffe. 

“Then I suppose I should bid the two of you good night.”

And without another word he turned around and left the two of you alone. 

As soon as he was gone Wolffe let go of you and put some distance between you. 

“You should lie down, you must be tired after dealing with those idiots all day.” 

His words made you turn around to face him. Once again you just couldn’t read him. One moment he made your heart beat faster by actually acting like your husband and the next he pretended like you were nothing more than acquaintances. But for once you grew tired of this behaviour and refused to oblige, instead you stepped closer to him again and put a hand on one of the arm he had crossed across his chest. 

“I’m sure you’re just as tired, if not more. Let’s both go to bed.” 

He raised one eyebrow, but other than that he didn’t make a move to break contact with you again. 

“There’s only one bed.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a gesture you had often copied from Wolffe himself. 

“I know that. But we’re old enough and trust each other enough to sleep in the same bed for one night”, you argued. You didn’t know what made you do it, but you couldn’t resist the urge to lean even closer, stand up on your tiptoes and whisper into his ear. “You’re my husband, after all. And husband and wife usually sleep in the same bed. And how else are you supposed to protect me from the Gonchee?” 

You were too close to his ear to actually see his face, but you were sure he was smirking as he scoffed. 

“I thought you were plenty capable of handling the Gonchee yourself, Commander.” 

The way he said your title did something to you you’d rather not investigate any further. He was teasing, of course he was, but though two could play that game you were simply too tired.

“Just join me in bed when you’re ready. Otherwise you’ll have to sleep on the cold floor and I’ll have to explain to Master Plo why his Commander is sore all over tomorrow.” You could have left it at that, you should have, but you just had to add one more sentence. “And I can think of more pleasant ways to make you sore.” 

As you left him standing and entered the hut you could hear a choked noise coming from him. 

-------

“Finally decided to join me?”, you teased when Wolffe slipped underneath the cover. 

Wolffe didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of an answer, couldn’t think at all. Not with you so close, laying beside him, trusting him to sleep next to you, to defend you if any of the Gonchee were to try something while you were in your most defenseless state. 

“Wolffe”, you whispered after a moment of silence. 

Now he had no choice but to answer. 

“What is it?”, he grunted. And instantly regretted his gruff reply. This was his one chance to have you close, to forget that there was no way the two of you could ever be more than friends. 

“Thank you, for today. And tonight. I’m glad you’re my ‘husband’.” 

Wolffe wasn’t good with words, but in that moment he really had no idea what to say. 

“It really showed us what we’re missing, didn’t it? The chance to be in love, to be married and not have to hide your feelings”, you continued. 

For a second Wolffe’s heart stopped beating. Could you be talking about him not having to hide your feelings or was is just a general statement? Or did you maybe mean that you... No, that was impossible. 

“Anyways, we should get some sleep now, we have an early start tomorrow”, you concluded. 

From then on it only took a few seconds for your breathing to even out and just was Wolffe was about to sigh in relief that he no longer had to pretend that being near you wasn’t affecting him, you rolled over from your back onto your side and were now pressed up against Wolffe. 

It wasn’t just his heart that stopped now, his breathing did as well. How could he move even to take another breath with you so close, with your head resting underneath his chin, your legs intertwined with his and your arm lazily thrown over his torso. 

“Damn it”, he mumbled, though he instantly came to regret having made a sound. Luckily you were still fast asleep, if anything you cuddled up even closer to Wolffe. 

Slowly, more careful than he had ever been, he lifted his own arm to wrap it around your waist and pull you even closer. He let out a content sigh, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in the process. 

Wolffe knew for a fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. This was his one chance to share a bed with you, and even though he would have loved to fall asleep and wake up next to you, he preferred cherishing every second of the night. 

-------

The next morning you were woken up not by the sun shining directly in your face, nor Wolffe’s sort snoring or the birds chirping outside, but by the unfamiliar voices speaking in what you recognized as the language of the Gonchee. 

You decided that it might be best to pretend to still be asleep, which is why you moved even closer to Wolffe and buried your head underneath his chin. In turn he pulled you closer to him, which made you realize that he had had one arm around you the entire time. You were almost too distracted by the warm and comforting presence of Wolffe next to you and the safety his arm around your waist guaranteed to notice that his breathing changed as he slowly woke up. Though like you Wolffe must have decided not to make it known that he was awake, it was only the more uneven breaths and the stiffening of his body that made it obvious. 

“Might I ask why you have invaded my commanders’ privacy?”, a familiar voice cut through the Gonchees’ conversation. And though you knew that it was safe to ‘wake up’ not that Plo Koon was here, both you and Wolffe still pretended to be fast asleep. Which had nothing to do with the fact that you simply didn’t want to face a reality where you weren’t cuddling in bed with Wolffe, nothing at all.  

“We... I....”, one of the Gonchee stammered. 

“We were here to wake them up”, another voice, who you recognized as the leader’s son, tried to explain. 

You both heard and sensed you master coming closer, and though part of you was worried what he may say, or worse think, about the position you and Wolffe were in, the bigger part was comforted by the fact that the Gonchee were either afraid enough or had enough respect for the Jedi to hurry out of the hut within seconds. 

“I know you’re awake.” Your Plo’s voice sounded amused rather than mad, though to be fair, in all your years of being his Padawan you had only seen him angry a handful of times, and almost never at you. 

It took a lot of self-restraint to fight the urge to cuddle closer to Wolffe for one last second before opening your eyes, but you managed. In moments like these you really wished Plo wouldn’t have to wear a mask, it would make it worlds easier to guess his feelings if you could just see his face. 

“I take it the two of you slept well?”, he asked. “The Gonchee certainly seemed to think so.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Was there anything you could say without letting either Wolffe or Plo Koon know just how well you slept with your fellow commander by your side? How much you never wanted to go to sleep without him in your arms again and how much you already missed him, now that he was just a few centimeters away? 

“Did you understand them, sir?”, Wolffe asked. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer the question either, though that could simply be due to the fact that Wolffe despised small talk, even with the man who was like a father to him. 

“I understood enough to know that they believe the two of you to be very much in love. As well as a few comments I’d rather not repeat, or think  about ever again”, Plo replied. As he spoke his eyes shifted between you and Wolffe, though you tried your best not to meet his gaze. You knew that he could already tell more than enough about your emotions through your force connection, if he saw your face, saw the love and admiration that must be visible in your eyes, he would know just how much you cared for Wolffe. 

“I’ll let you get ready then. Be outside in 10 minutes, we’re leaving in 20.” With those words Master Plo turned around, left the hut and left the two of you alone. 

You looked over at Wolffe, who, same as you, was leaning against the wobbly headboard. 

“For what it’s worth, I really did sleep well. Better than I had in a long time”, you said with a slight smile on your lips. Maybe this was overstepping a boundary, but right now you didn’t care. 

All Wolffe, in a very characteristic yet disappointing, fashion did was nod before standing up and starting to put on the first pieces of his armour. Other than you, who had actually changed into a pyjama while Wolffe had still been outside the hut last night, he had slept in his blacks and didn’t really have to change, or rather undress. 

You, however, did. At first you glanced around the hut, looking for some sort of privacy you knew you wouldn’t find. Then you considered your options: You could ask Wolffe to leave, or to simply turn around, while you would change and he’d do it with probably only an amused smile, or you could just change real quick while he was still busy with his armour. In the blink of an eye you decided on the second option, partly because Wolffe, as well as the other clones in the 104th, had seen you bloody and sweaty, with torn clothes and in various states of undress before, either in the medbay or when you had been in a particular hurry, but mostly you just didn’t want to send Wolffe away, not after having spent the night together. 

It was only when you had already changed into your regular trousers and just put on your bra when you came to regret your decision. 

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?”, Wolffe asked, his tone mostly shocked, though there was an emotion in there you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“What does it look like? I’m changing.�� 

You had previously had your back turned to Wolffe, but his question, or rather the way in which he asked, gave you the confidence boost needed to turn around and face him. 

“Would you rather I went out in my pyjama?” 

This trip really was proving to be most unusual, since Wolffe seemed to be speechless. 

“Of course not”, he finally said, though his voice did sound a bit off. “But you could have asked me to leave.” 

By now you really didn’t know where your confidence was coming from, but as if an autopilot you stepped closer to him, close enough to see the way his eyes, as well as his pupils, widened. 

“Maybe I didn’t want you to leave.” 

It was a bold statement, and maybe not entirely true, but it seemed to do the trick, since a smirk found its way to Wolffe’s lips. His eyes, previously focused on your eyes, flitted down to your chest for a moment before going back up again. 

“Then what is it you wanted me to do?”, he asked. “What do you want?” A clear challenge to either back down or take a leap. A challenge you shouldn’t accept, but found yourself really wanting to. 

“I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be with me wherever I go. I want you next to me in bed when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up the next morning. I want you to always look at me the way you’re doing right now. I want you to touch me and kiss me and make me yours. Maker, Wolffe, I want you!” 

The words were out of your mouth without thinking. Just like that, you had voiced every thought running through your brain, made yourself vulnerable to Wolffe’s reaction, whatever it might be. Though you had never expected it to be an arm, already covered in plastoid, to wrap around your waist and a hand, warm and steady, on the back of your neck.   

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that”, he mumbled before crashing his lips against yours. 

Though you didn’t have much experience, you knew that this was what a kiss was supposed to be. It was not a clashing of teeth, like your first kiss, nor hesitant and barely there, like your second, but a perfect mixture. Wolffe wasn’t rough, though there was just enough force to tell you that he could be if that’s what you wanted. His lips worked against yours as if they were made to, teeth softly grazing your bottom lip a few times before biting down. He nibbled on your lip, then caressed it with his tongue before giving the same treatment to your top lip. Some time during the kiss your hands had found their way into his hair, pulling it and pulling him closer at the same time, finally feeling the soft strands between your fingers and causing Wolffe to moan at the sensation. By the time his tongue made its way into your mouth you could have sworn that your legs were made of jelly, that you had moved on to whatever came after this life, that this was a dream. 

Even when Wolffe pulled away to catch his breath you didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid of the reality you would find if you did. 

You heard Wolffe’s low chuckle before his lips were on you again. This time he gently kissed your cheeks, the corners of your lips, before making his way down. He spread small bites on your jaw and then followed his teeth with his tongue, soothing the slight sting. Though it was a spot high up on your neck, just beneath your jaw, that finally got a reaction from you. You tightened your grip on his hair as his lips ghosted over the spot and moaned when they pressed harder. 

“So needy”, Wolffe chuckled.

All you did to reply was pull his head up again for another kiss, one that was faster and more heated than the last. Though as soon as you pulled away his lips found their way to the same spot again. He began to suck while at the same time pulling you back to the bed. You wondered how he had enough sense to sit down and pull you into his lap, all your thinking had abandoned you the moment his lips first met yours. 

“Wolffe, I - kriff, stop -”, you panted. 

As soon as you said the word he pulled away, though his hands still had a grip on you, it loosened and he looked at you with nothing but love and lust in his eyes. 

“What is it, mesh’la?” 

For a moment you leaned your forehead against his shoulder before straightening up again and looking at him. 

“As much as I’d love for you to leave hickeys all over, we both know that you can’t. No one can know this ever happened”, you told him, making sure to put just enough authority in your voice to make him take you seriously. 

A sly grin was on his lips as soon as the words left your mouth. 

“I know, cyare”, he reassured you. He leaned closer again, though this time his lips didn’t move to your neck, but to your ear. “But later I’ll mark you in places where no one but me will see.” 

The thought alone send shivers down your spine and heat to your core, but it also placed a smile on your face. 

“Looking forward to it”, you said and placed a quick peck on his lips. Though you should have known that Wolffe wouldn’t leave it at that. He pulled you closer once again, the hand on your waist now moving upwards and to the front until it cupped your breast. Gently, in stark contrast to the way he bit down on your lip, he squeezed and massaged in before moving on to the other one. 

Another moan escaped your lips, this one even louder. 

“Careful, we don’t want anyone to hear you, do we?” 

You were about to nod in agreement when an idea popped into your head. 

“I bet hearing me would make the Gonchee really believe that we’re married.” 

Wolffe chuckled as he once again moved his hands to your waist. 

“I think they already believe us, cyare.” 

-------

It had taken the two of you a while to finally separate and make yourselves look presentable, and only when you heard Sinker calling for the last men to hurry up did you finally leave the hut. 

Now, on your way back to the ship, the two of you were finally together again after you had talked to Plo Koon and Wolffe to the other clones for a while. 

“You know, I’m really glad it was you I was fake married to”, you confessed in a whisper. 

Wolffe’s hand brushed against yours for a second while he chuckled. 

“You know, maybe one day we can scratch the ‘fake’.” 

He saw the surprise in your eyes as you looked up to him. Truth be told, he hadn’t meant to say that in that moment, but he knew he wanted it to be true. Some day, when the war was over, if you would still want him by your side by then. 

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much”, you said with a smile. “But first, I think there’s something else we need to do, once we have some time and privacy.” 

Wolffe knew exactly what you were talking about, and though he couldn’t wait to feel you, to hear you and touch you again, he also couldn’t wait for the day he would get to call you his wife for real. Maybe, after such a long time of denying his feelings and then refusing to act on them, this trip to the Gonchee village and pretending to be married had been good for something after all. 

I tried to put a little bit of everything (and by ‘everything’ I mean some of my favourite tropes) into this story, I hope you enjoyed it. 

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. <3

[donteattheappleshook]

She Came From the Water (Something that washed up...)

Blame @the-darkdragonfly​ for this....

Summary

Between his dissatisfying job, a constant battle to keep seeing his daughter, and a history of mistakes, losses, and broken dreams, Killian Jones has no place for magic in his life. But when he pulls in his fishing nets one evening only to find a woman caught in them, his life becomes infinitely more complicated. Is she a siren, a selkie, like his daughter believes, or just another lost soul like himself? Suddenly, his life is a thing of fairytales; beautiful women hidden away in cottages, selkie husbands coming back to claim them, and, just maybe, a chance at happily ever after.

A Captain Swan AU based on the film Ondine (2009) for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Rated M

Read it on Ao3  (because the italics work there) or Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

******

The Changeling

The baby’s scream cuts through the night, pulling Killian from the first deep sleep - or almost deep sleep - he’s had in over twelve weeks. His heart jumps in his chest, as it does every time, pounding rapidly against his ribcage in terror before he remembers and the panic settles into a groan of exhaustion. This is the second time tonight. But that’s not unusual.

Opening one eye he looks over Emma’s shoulder to see the old clock-radio on the bedside table: 3AM, the witching hour. He has to be up in an hour for work and he never realized just how precious a single hour of sleep could be until they brought their son home from the hospital and he was robbed of every attempt at a full night since. 

He’s exhausted. Always exhausted. Alice hadn’t been a perfect baby, and he remembers those first months when it was just the two of them, before Eloise took her away, when he was frantic and dead on his feet most of the time. But it had never been like this. 

He’d spent night after night in the one room of his cottage, his daughter on the mattress next to him, tucked snugly in a cocoon of pillows he’d built out of fear of rolling over in his sleep and crushing her. He couldn't afford a crib then, but he also couldn’t stand letting her sleep in a drawer like her mother had. 

Still, he woke up throughout the night, just to make sure she was breathing, that she was real and alive and he hadn’t ruined her like he did everything. And every time, Alice slept soundly - prefering to have her screaming tantrums in broad daylight where everyone could hear, and look, and judge as he shuffled through the aisles looking for baby formula. But at least then, he’d been able to sleep.

His son is not so inclined. Liam came into the world and apparently decided he didn’t like it one bit and insisted on making his displeasure known at all hours. He cried all the time. Morning, night, noon, he was almost never silent apart from the few sporadic hours he would cease his screaming to briefly shut his eyes. 

They’d taken him to the doctor, several in fact when they didn’t get anything helpful out of Whale. But they’d all said the same thing. Colic - He’s perfectly healthy - Some babies just cry - There’s no rhyme or reason to it - You’re not doing anything wrong - He’ll grow out of it eventually. Kilian is starting to doubt that last bit. 

Sighing at the early hour, he presses his nose into the long golden mess wrapped in his arms that’s pretending to still be asleep. “It’s your turn,” he grunts, voice heavy and cracked from sleep - or lack of it. She continues her pretense. “Swan,” he chides, begs, breathing the words against her neck. After a moment, another wail piercing the air, she stirs, her groan near a whimper. 

“It’s not my turn.” She sounds so tired and helpless that he almost caves then, but his body protests so viciously to the thought of getting out from under the covers that he holds firm. 

“I got up at midnight,” he reminds her. 

Another pathetic whine. “And I stayed up feeding him after you went back to sleep.” 

“And then you woke me to put him back in his crib.” There’s a pause where Liam is quiet, and for a fleeting moment he thinks that maybe neither of them will have to get up. His hopes are dashed by the particularly fierce cry that follows it. 

“I pushed him out,” Emma says finally. “You go pick him up.” 

Killian groans again. He’s tempted to remind her that he has to go to work today, but knows that she’ll be stuck at home with a screaming baby while he gets a brief respite on the water and thinks better of it. They’d both stayed home at first, Killian not wanting to miss a moment of Liam’s first few months and Emma still recovering from the delivery, David insisting she take as much time as she needs, that the budget could cover the mat leave. He suspects Mary Margaret had some influence there. 

He also knows she’d probably like nothing more than to go back into the Sheriff’s office and spend her days patrolling town rather than cleaning baby puke out of her hair. But as kind as Nemo had been in giving him time away, he’d eventually told Killian he had to come back. The older man had been guilt-ridden when he’d called, but his hands were tied; there was only so much he could do to bend policy. As nice as the quiet is though, he hates not being there, misses the chaos and the noise… until he gets home anyway. 

With great effort, Killian forces himself up, rubbing at bleary eyes with thumb and finger, the early-winter chill hitting him as soon as he slips from under the blanket and his feet touch the cold floor. “When are you going to stop using that argument?” he asks, reaching out to brush some of her unwashed hair out of her face. 

Emma nuzzles further under the comforter. “When you push out a baby the size of a watermelon.” 

He’d laugh, almost does, but he’s too tired. “That’s not fair, love. I can’t do that.” 

“Then I guess you’re shit outta luck,” is her only answer, mumbled against the fabric of her pillow. He does laugh that time. Perhaps, he thinks, squeezing her shoulder and seeing her breathing even out already, but he considers himself pretty lucky.

The floor is freezing, all of the rugs collected and scattered over the floor of Alice’s room so they could get her to actually leave her bed in the mornings for school. He makes a note to remember to ask for slippers for Christmas this year. 

Walking across the small living room and kitchen to the extension they added shortly after their wedding, after finding out Emma was pregnant - we’ll have to build two rooms, she told him coyly. It took him a moment to catch on, to gather her up in his arms and swing her around as a confusion of  joy and fear he’d never experienced before hit him all at once. Alice is already outside the baby’s room when he gets there, looking sleepy and cranky. 

“He’s crying again.” She doesn’t understand the explanations they give her, that there could be no reason for his heartbreaking screams. In truth he doesn’t really understand it either. 

“I know, starfish,” he says gently, running a hand through her hair which now stands a full head taller than it did a year ago. “You go back to bed, all right? I’ll be in soon to tuck you in.” 

Alice listens begrudgingly, a grumpy, “I told you we should have gotten a dog,” muttered under her breath. He almost laughs at that too. She’d been extremely disappointed to learn she was going to have a baby brother and not a puppy as she’d expected when they sat her down and told her they had exciting news. 

The cries grow louder when Killian opens the door, crosses to the crib and leans over to place a hand on the infant’s small chest. How such giant lungs fit in such a small body is a true wonder. “Hey there little banshee,” he breathes softly, the nickname given by his sister in malice having unfortunately stuck. “What’s got you so upset tonight?” 

Sliding his arms under the blankets, careful of his head as Alice always likes to remind him - I kept you alive, didn’t I? - he scoops the little bundle up into his arms, the screams muffled slightly against his neck as Liam’s fingers grip fiercely at the front of his shirt. It had only taken one unbreakable death grip on his chest hair for him to start wearing a shirt to bed every night. 

“I know,” he coos gently, rubbing the baby’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “I know. Everything’s terrible isn’t it? It’s so hard to be little and not be able to tell us what you want. At least we know you’ll have a hell of a voice when you do,” Killian continues to murmur, words not really making sense but it’s three in the morning and nothing makes sense right now. “I know,” he hushes softly. “You want your mumma don’t you?” Liam’s cries have settled from full out screams to a hiccupping weep as Killian brings him out into the living room. 

“But you need to give your mum a break sometimes,” he continues to explain as though the baby understands. “She needs to sleep and so do you. And so do I,” he admits, making his way through the near pitch-black room by memory. “Do you think you can do that, love?” Liam gives an angry shriek in answer. “All right, we’ll talk about it in the morning,” he concedes, nudging open the door to their bedroom. 

“What are you talking about in the morning?” Emma asks, sitting up as little as possible and unbuttoning the front of one of her stolen shirts. “We’re married now. What’s yours is mine.” “That’s not how the expression goes, darling.”

“The usual. Stock market. Climate change.” 

She reaches for the baby, a hint of a smile on her drained face, and brings him to her breast. “Oh?” she hums softly to the finally quiet infant. “Is that what you’re gonna do? Are you gonna go out and save the world?” Liam, of course, doesn’t answer and she draws a finger over his cheek, his eyes falling shut as he drinks. 

“Or are you gonna be an artist like your daddy?” she continues, the way she smiles at their son tugging at Killian’s heart. He laughs whenever she calls him an artist, the drawings he does for Alice scattered over the walls of the little girl���s room, Emma’s own drawing of him still tucked away in his bedside drawer. “Or an anthropologist like your sister?” 

“Maybe he’ll join you at the sheriff's station,” Killian suggests and she snorts. 

“Hard to sneak up on the bad guys if you’re screaming all the time, kid. We’ll have to work on that, okay? Where are you going?” she asks when he stands. 

“He woke Alice. I’m gonna tuck her back in.” 

“Poor thing. I’ll call the school in the morning, let her sleep in a bit.” 

Killian nods, kisses first Liam’s head then hers and heads back to their daughter’s room. He nudges the door carefully, making sure she’s not asleep already before he goes inside and risks waking her again. 

“Has he stopped?” Her little voice carries from under the handmade quilt, a gift from Granny, blue waves with ships, mermaids and pirates painstakingly embroidered on every square. Killian pushes the rest of the way in. 

“Aye, for now.” 

“Do you know why he’s crying?” she asks, turning over to face him as he sits on the edge of her mattress. 

“There’s no reason, love. It’s just what babies do sometimes.” 

“Lucy has a baby brother,” she argues defiantly, referring to a friend at school. “And he doesn’t cry all the time. She even brought him to show and tell.” 

Killian winces at the thought of Alice bringing Liam to show and tell, the chaos his inconsolable screams would cause. He’s never been out of the house apart from the hospital, both of them too tired to go out to friend’s places and his wails too big of a risk for a short trip to the store or Granny’s. Alice has complained that they don’t all go anywhere together anymore. He hopes they will soon. 

“Everybody’s different,” is all he can offer as a platitude and it falls short. 

After a moment, Alice sits up, wide eyes finding his in the dark, serious and excited like when they go searching for fairies or she helps him dock the Jolly. “I know what’s wrong with him,” she says with the kind of confidence that’s reserved exclusively for eight-year-old girls.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, stifling a yawn and she nods quickly, folding herself over the side of her bed to reach for something under it. She drags out a massive book, one from her most recent library pillage. Seeing her struggle to lift the heavy brick of pages, he reaches down and helps her bring it up onto her lap. She flicks on her bedside lamp and Killian winces at the intrusive light, knowing he’s definitely not going back to sleep now. 

“Here,” she says when she’s flipped through to the page she’s looking for. 

She turns the book over to him and Killian tries to squint at the writing, to indulge her when he can, knowing that the attention Liam requires can sometimes leave her overlooked, and hating it. The words are too small for him to make out this late with the dim light, but he can see the images of fairies and children dispersed among the blocks of text. When he looks up at Alice her expression is expectant. 

“I think he’s a changeling,” she explains fervently, her voice just above a whisper, as though someone other than him could be listening. 

“What’s that?” Killian frowns, his mind too tired to keep up. 

“A fairy baby.” 

He smiles softly at her but doesn’t mock. “Sweetheart, Emma and I were both there when he was born. You brought him home from the hospital with us. There wasn’t a fairy in sight.” 

“I know that,” she says in that tone of hers that’s just shy of calling him an idiot. “I’m not talking about that baby. My brother isn’t a fairy. This baby is,” Alice explains looking towards her door as she says it. 

Killian tries not to sigh. He just wants to go lie down. Or at least have some really strong coffee - he’s switched from tea after so many sleepless nights - and enjoy the last few moments of silence he’ll have before Liam wakes up again. “That baby is your brother.”

“No, he’s not. You’re not listening!” she insists, frustrated with him now. “Changelings are fairy babies that are swapped out for human babies. They sneak in in the middle of the night and steal the human baby and leave one of theirs in its place. Look,” she continues, pointing to a place on the page. “Changelings cry all the time, they’re always hungry no matter how much you feed them, and they look like little old men.” Alice looks back up at him as though she’s proved her point and he has to fight back laughter. 

“Love, you’ve just described all babies.” 

She pouts then, upset. “You’re not listening.” 

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re making fun of me.” 

“I’m not- ” he starts, then sighs. He takes the book from her lap and sets it back on the ground. “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard being woken up all the time and the house being so loud. It’s not fair.” Killian rubs a thumb over her cheek, the dark circles under her eyes pronounced in the lamplight. “Do you want to spend a few nights with David and Mary Margaret? Have a sleepover and some quiet? I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“That’s not the point!” she hisses in that anxious whisper. “Dad, we have to get Liam back from the fairies before it’s too late. If you bring the changeling to them they have to return the real baby!” 

Killian knows he can’t argue his way out of this. “Alice, remember when we talked about how some things from your books are real and some are just make-believe?” 

He hadn’t had the heart to tell her that all the fairytales are made up, that the mythical creatures don’t exist - still doesn’t. She’ll learn that on her own one day and it’ll break his heart to see it happen. He wants her to keep believing as long as she can. But after what happened on the pier that day - the day he saw his whole world disappear under the black waves and that he thought the sea had swallowed the last of his happiness - he’d had to make her understand that not everything she reads is real. 

Alice nods begrudgingly. 

“This is one of those things, okay? It sounds like changelings were made up to explain sick babies when people didn’t have the means to understand what was wrong.” She doesn’t look convinced but some of the fight leaves her. “Liam is your brother and he’s okay and right here with us. He’ll stop crying eventually. And in the meantime,” he continues, lifting the covers so she’ll lay back down under them. “We need to get as much sleep as we can whenever we can.” 

Alice settles back down onto her pillow and Killian pulls the blanket up over her shoulders, her brow still pinched in a frown when he presses a kiss to her temple. “Stay in bed as long as you want tomorrow okay? We’ll let your teachers know.” She nods. “I love you,” he adds.

“I love you too,” is her muttered response and he knows she’s not satisfied with his answer but he can also see the way her eyelids are drooping. She’s asleep again before he shuts the door. 

He finds Emma buried back under the covers, curled on her side and he comes around to crouch on the floor next to her. She blinks her eyes open slowly, not asleep yet and smiles at him. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” he smiles back, kissing her gently. “Liam back in his crib?” He asks only because once or twice she’s fallen asleep with him cradled next to her like a teddy bear when she was too tired to walk him to his room. Emma nods as he traces his fingers over her own. 

“How’s Alice?”

“Tired,” Killian answers honestly and she sees his own concern mirrored in her eyes. “She thinks Liam is a changeling,” he adds with an amused brow raise. 

“As in a fairy baby?” He looks at her in surprise. “I know things,” she defends. 

“Apparently.” 

“Are you coming back to bed?” she asks, the fingers he’d been playing with lacing through his. 

He shakes his head, kisses her knuckles. “No, I have to be up in an hour anyway. I’ll take the morning shift and you go back to sleep. At least one of us should get some.” 

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her lips, her mouth soft and welcoming beneath his. It doesn’t matter how much time they spend together or apart, how little sleep they get or how much he learns about her past; she’ll always be the siren he pulled up in his net and she’ll always feel like being called home. 

Before he can pull away, her fingers untangle from his own, hand coming to his cheek and dragging him back when he breaks the kiss. He goes willingly, smiling against her lips as she explores them with her own, tongue slipping out to tease and sending his pulse soaring. Killian gives a soft groan, hand slipping to her waist as she opens under him and he lets himself taste her, swallow the little sound she lets out when he pulls her closer. His body screams at him to rest, but her pull will always be stronger than any other and it wins out. 

She breaks away only enough to speak, breath hot against his lips as her own brush against them with every word. “Or, I know a way we could both not sleep and still get some.” Killian chuckles. It’s terrible and he knows she knows it is, the little smirk betraying her. 

“Swan, are you trying to seduce me?” He kisses her again, rising up off the ground and she sits up, slides over to make room for him. 

“Shut up, I’m out of practice.” 

Climbing onto the mattress he slides under the cover and over her, settling in the space between her thighs and enjoying the way her legs hug his hips, keeping him there. Speaking against the skin of her neck he tells her, “We both know you never needed practice.” From the moment they met she’d been the shore he’d happily run himself aground and every day spent with her since has only proven that he’d been right in crashing into her. 

“Good answer,” she breathes, fingers tangling in his hair as he drags his lips and tongue down over her breasts, careful where she’d grown overly sensitive. ‘This is bullshit!’ she’d cursed the first time she’d jumped back in pain from a touch she’d always begged for, anger blown out of proportion by frustration and hormones until she’d been crying. He’d had to hold her while she calmed down. ‘And they’ll never be this big again!’ she sobbed. ‘What a waste.’

Unbuttoning the rest of her - his - shirt, he kisses the still rounded curve of her belly she’d grown so self-conscious of in the weeks after having Liam. ‘You’re perfect, Swan,’ he’d insisted every time. ‘You have to say that. You want to get in my pants.’ ‘Aye, no matter what size those pants are.’ 

He teases kisses along her thighs towards her center and feels her hand on his shoulder, tugging at him so he raises his head, letting her drag him back to her mouth. Emma pushes at the hem of his shirt, seeming determined to get it off without allowing any space between them. Pulling away long enough to yank it over his head and grinning at her annoyed ‘hey!’ he falls back over her, happy to let her use him however she pleases. 

He let his fingers slide over the length of her side, nails grazing along the soft skin of her leg to her knee before starting once again in his quest she’d so rudely interrupted. She gasps into his mouth when he dips them between her thighs, hardening painfully at how slick she is already to his touch, realizing why she hadn’t needed his attention before. 

Raising a cocky brow at her she tries to roll her eyes but the gesture is undermined by the way they squeeze shut and her back arches when he slides his thumb over her, lip catching between her teeth. 

“It’s the hormones,” she forces out through ragged breath, a small moan slipping free when he touches her again. He smirks. 

“You’re nearly past the point where you can keep using that excuse,” he warns against her jaw. “Pretty soon you’ll have to admit that it’s simply my charm and striking good looks that leave you so desperate for me.” 

“I’m not… desperate,” she manages to groan out as he works her slowly, already recognizing the familiar rolls and waves of her body, that beautiful selkie song he’d fallen in love with building even as she tries to silence it. He catches the lobe of her ear between his teeth, pulls back and searches her face until she looks at him, eyes heavy-lidded and losing themselves to pleasure. 

“I am,” he tells her, not hiding the truth of it, not as if she didn’t already know. “Always,” the word falling from his lips like a confession. He has been since the day he pulled a bloody selkie up in his net. Desperate for her in every sense of the word and he watches her expression soften, some of the pleasure ceding to the love that’s always there beneath it. 

Emma takes his face in her hands, kissing him hard and deep until he shifts over her. Regretfully pulling his fingers free of her heat he steadies himself so he can help as she begins trying to shove his sleep pants down his hips. Killian kicks them off somewhere at the foot of the bed, not caring where as she immediately pulls him down against her, reaching for him and taking him in hand. 

He lets her guide him, slides in painfully slowly, watching the way her brow pulls down and her eyes fall shut at the feel of them finally joined. He takes his time, hips coming together in long, slow drags, her lips at his neck making him shudder and tense as he tries to make it last, knows she doesn’t need him to, already fluttering around him, trying to pull him over the edge with her. 

His thumb tugs at her chin, freeing her lip from between her teeth, knowing he can’t hear her when she falls apart, not with a baby and an eight year old just down the hall, but not willing to have her be silenced. He slants his mouth over hers, letting her cry out against his tongue, swallowing her pleasure and tasting her climax when she shatters around him. 

She takes him with her, his siren, always dragging him under to drown in the waves that roll through them, his own release gasped into her shoulder, teeth pressing into the skin between it and her neck as he tries to contain his cry. 

They lie together after in the rare, blissful silence, legs tangled, her fingers tracing through the hair on his chest, Killian’s thumb tracing the line of her jaw, along her lips, as they wait for their breathing to settle. He has an alarm, he thinks as his eyes grow heavy again, her own already blinking slowly. He can sleep for a few minutes, can enjoy a moment of peace with his wife before real life has to start again…

A small cry pierces the air, Emma’s eyes snapping open before squeezing shut in dismay. Then again, maybe not. He tilts his head, kisses the tip of her nose and forces himself to roll out of bed and into his pants, off to see to his little banshee. He doesn’t miss her grateful, ‘love you’ muffled against the sheets as he slips out of the room. 

***

When Killian wakes up the following morning it takes him a moment to realize what it is about that fact that has him so unnerved. The clock reads four in the morning. It’s his day off, but not unusual for him to be up so early. The sun won’t be up yet so late in the year but the sky still tinges a soft gray in anticipation of it. Emma is there, wrapped around his back, her face pressed into his shoulder blade; Alice will still be asleep for another couple of hours. It’s one of those quiet, peaceful mornings, a lazy one, and he debates letting himself fall back asleep, it’s so rare that he gets to after all…

He darts up, inhaling sharply as realization hits him. Killian doesn’t get to sleep in, at least not for the last three months, not since every single night he’s been startled awake by the sound of a screaming baby. He was up at midnight, he remembers that, but Liam’s never gone five hours without making a sound. Immediately panicked he rushes out of bed, across the cottage to his son’s room, practically sprinting to the crib, not knowing what he expects to find, not knowing what possibility has him so scared. But it’s empty. 

“Liam?” he calls, as though the boy could answer. “Liam?” he searches under the crib, around the room in case he fell out or rolled. Nothing. Alice. Maybe Alice has him. When they’d first brought him home she’d tried to help in the mornings, wanting to be the one to take him out of his crib and change him. That had stopped quickly when he’d started keeping her up all night. 

“Alice,” he calls, knocking softly on her door as he opens it. He calls her name again when she doesn’t answer and goes in. But there’s no one there, another empty bed and it takes everything he has to keep the paralyzing panic from overwhelming him, leaning into the adrenaline racing through his veins as he rushes back out, shouting Emma’s name.

She comes out of their room, bleary eyed and a little annoyed, but when she sees his face she’s suddenly alert, rushing over to him. “What’s wrong?” 

“They’re gone.” 

“What? Who?” It only takes a moment before he sees her panic, looking into Alice’s empty room and then running to Liam’s. He knows she’ll find it just as empty. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where the hell are they?”

“I don’t know!” The only time he can remember being this terrified was that night that feels so long ago now, when he’d come home to find Alice at the kitchen table, kept hostage there by the people he hated most in the world. But they’re gone now, dead, both of them, he has to remind himself. 

“We have to find them!” Emma nearly shouts, running to the front door and flinging it open, not seeming to notice her bare feet as she continues out onto the frozen earth, looking around frantically. 

He’s right behind her, hurrying back through the main room to grab her coat that hangs over the back of the kitchen chair, already pulling his phone out to call David when he sees it. A note. Pink construction paper left on the table, large curling letters with stars over the ‘I’s scrawled out in marker. 

Goin to get Liam bak. Dont wory. Killian stares at it in disbelief, Alice Jones signed carefully at the bottom of the page. 

Snatching it up he runs to the door. “Swan!” She’s halfway down the lane and he has to shout a second time to get her to look back at him, waving the note for her to see. “I think I know where they are!” She runs back faster than he knew she could. 

“Killian?” he hears the voice faintly over the phone. David. He hands his wife the crumpled paper explaining everything to his friend in rushed sentences as he grabs his boots and Emma’s, somehow having the sense to grab some blankets from the couch before darting out the door and into the old car they bought just before Liam was born. 

“I think I know where she is, but can you send someone out? Get people to search the woods…” He swallows, “and the beach?” 

Alice can swim now. So can he. Killian had made sure they both learned after he nearly lost her to the sea and was powerless to help her. But the water is freezing this time of year. She knows better, he tells himself. He knows she does. But she’s also determined to prove him wrong, to fix things, to prove that she’s right. And there’s not much that can stop his daughter when she sets her mind to something. She wouldn’t go to the water, he reasons. That’s not what she’s looking for, that’s not where she thinks her brother is. 

“I’m on it,” David promises, and Killian hangs up as Emma climbs in the passenger seat. 

“Where are they?” 

“The fairy glen,” he answers, starting the car. “Alice said that if she gives them back their changeling they’ll give her back her brother.” 

“Shit,” she hisses, then shouts, “Shit! How long have they been gone?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, hating that that seems to be the only answer he can give her. She’s perched literally on the edge of her seat, hand on the dashboard as though she can make the car go faster by sheer will. He’s already driving faster than he should. “We’ll find them. I promise.”

“They’re together,” Emma says then with certainty, turning to look at him. “She wouldn’t leave him, not without getting her brother back. And even then, she wouldn’t leave a baby to freeze - or a fairy.” 

She’s right, he tries to assure himself as they reach the long winding road that will take them to the old Mills estate. Alice won’t even let him kill spiders, she wouldn’t let Liam get hurt, changeling or not. But what if she got lost, what if she got too cold out in the field waiting for fairies who would never come?

When they reach the end of the laneway, Emma is out of the car before he can stop it fully, running to the top of the hill and looking around below. He catches up with her there as she shouts ‘Alice!’ into the still dim light. 

“Alice, sweetheart, where are you?” she calls again as he scans the little bit of the field he can make out in the dark. 

“Alice!”

He hears a soft cry, one he recognizes immediately after having been woken up by it so many times, followed by a quiet, “Dad?” 

“Oh, bloody hell,” he sighs in relief as they both half run, half slide down the hill. He calls her name once more and then sees her, standing from where she’d been sitting in the grass, Liam tucked against her chest, zipped into her parka a blanket around them both. “Thank god,” he chokes, taking his first full breath in what feels like forever as he drops to his knees in front of them and pulls them into his arms. They’re both alive, they’re cold, but not freezing, Liam warmer than Alice for being so wrapped up. Emma reaches them a second later, doing the same, checking them both, face tear-stained. 

“Give him here,” she says when Liam lets out another whimper and Alice lets them pull the baby from her coat, Killian zipping her back up quickly as Emma cradles Liam to her chest. “Are you okay?” she asks the girl who nods, looking down at what Killian now sees is a little fairy house, the kind they usually make together, and what he figures is a little fairy crib, fashioned out of sticks and a leaf. 

“They didn’t come,” she says quietly, sadder than he’d expected. He wishes he could be patient, but the adrenaline and the fear are somehow still racing and fading at the same time and he feels both exhausted and wound up. 

“Come on, love, get in the car and we’ll go home,” he says, standing and reaching for her hand, but she steps back. 

“We can’t go. They still have Liam.”

“Alice…”

“We have to wait until they bring him back!”

“Alice, get in the car.” 

“We can’t leave without my brother!” she shouts. 

“That’s your brother!” he shouts back, his usually firm grip on his temper snapping as he points to the child wailing in his mother’s arms. “Right there! He’s not a bloody changeling, he’s a baby that you could have gotten killed tonight taking him out in the cold like this! You could have gotten yourself killed - Both of you could have frozen to death! Did you even think of that? Did you even think at all?” 

“But, I -” she starts, shrinking from him even as her shoulders square. 

“Alice! Get in the bloody car!” 

She jumps at the same time as he feels Emma’s hand on his arm, a careful “Killian…” drawing his attention to her. And it’s so familiar, that day on the docks when he’d nearly slipped back into the man he used to be, Swan’s hand in his holding him back from taking that step. He looks back at his daughter. Alice’s eyes are wide as she stares at him, watering as her lip begins to tremble.

He reaches for her, the anger gone as quickly as it came. "Alice -" but she jerks away from him, face screwing up before she takes off in the direction of the car. His heart drops. He’s never yelled at her before. He looks between her and Emma, helpless, overwhelmed with guilt. 

“Here,” she says gently, handing Liam over. “I’ll go. Give her a minute.” 

He can’t do anything but take the squirming baby from her and nod, watching as she goes after Alice, waiting until she’s made it over the top of the hill to follow, baby tucked into his jacket. When he reaches them he can hear Emma’s voice, soft over the little girl’s hiccups and shaky sobs. 

“Dad was just scared, sweetheart. People say things they don’t mean when they’re scared. He thought he was going to lose you,” she soothes, wiping her tears away even as more take their place. “He didn’t mean to yell.” 

He comes closer, heart breaking at the sight of his daughter so upset because of something he did. “Alice,” he tries and her gaze snaps up to him, still crying but with an anger and an anxiousness behind it now that’s never been directed at him. 

“No!” she cries again. “I don’t want you; I want my mum,” she sobs, words broken up by the little shaky breaths she tries to take to stop her tears. 

For a moment Killian feels like he’s been punched in the gut, thinks that she’d rather go back to Eloise than be with him after so long fighting to get her here. But then he sees the way she’s clinging to Emma, the way she turns into her after she says it and he realizes it’s not Eloise she’s asking for. 

He knows she saw it too, her eyes reflecting the same mix of pain and tainted happiness that he’s sure are in his. Alice has never called her mum before… and this is the worst possible way it could have happened. 

***

The drive home is long, the quiet overwhelming. Even Liam sleeps soundly and Killian can’t help thinking that he’d give anything for the baby’s cries to break the silence this one time. Killian keeps glancing at his daughter’s reflection in the rearview mirror. She’s stopped crying but the tear tracks on her cheeks and the sullen way she stares out the window is a sharp reminder of how much he hurt her. 

He doesn’t think he was wrong, not in sentiment. What Alice did was reckless and irresponsible. But he shouldn’t have yelled. That was how his father parented - at least before deciding to abandon his children altogether - how Killian swore he never would. 

“Are you mad at me too?” he hears, Alice’s voice small and quiet through the crack left open by her bedroom door once he’s put Liam back in his crib. 

“No, hon, nobody’s mad at you. We’re just glad you’re both safe.” 

“Dad is.” 

There’s a pause, Emma taking a slow breath. “Dad got mad and he shouldn’t have yelled. He knows that.” He wonders if she knows he’s out here listening. “But you shouldn’t have taken off in the middle of the night. You know better.”

“I was trying to fix it - so that everything could go back to how it was before and we could go out on the boat again or to Granny’s and you could both be at school…” she trailed off. Killian hung his head remorsefully. He’d missed a science fair last month. Both hadn’t been able to go, not with Liam crying the way he was. She’d won a prize. “I wasn’t going to hurt him,” she says then, choking on fresh tears.

“We know that - of course we do,” Emma assures her. 

“I kept him warm, and I wore my hat like Dad always says to.”

“I know you did.”

It’s a moment before she speaks again. He can hear the sniffles as she calms down, or tries to. “I don’t like that he’s sad.”

“Who? Your dad?” 

“Liam.” Emma doesn’t answer, the sound of sheets rustling telling him she’s probably pulled the little girl into a hug. “The fairies aren’t real, are they?” she asks then and Killian shuts his eyes in dismay. It’s too soon; she’s too young to grow up. “Magic isn’t real.” 

He trusts Emma to handle this. He knows she’ll tread carefully. But he wants nothing more than to go in there and fix things, hug his daughter, tell her magic is real, and he hates that she wouldn’t want him there. 

“Maybe not the way it is in the storybooks,” Emma finally answers. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not real.” Another pause, this one weighted. “I grew up a little like you did. I didn’t have a family and my foster parents weren’t always very nice. Except I didn’t have a dad who loved me like you do, so I stopped believing in happy endings a long time ago.” 

Killian’s heart clenches in his chest, every detail he learns about Emma’s childhood always stirring anger and helplessness within him - that kids like she and Alice had to go through that, kids like he and Liam, that there’s nothing he can do to change it. 

“But then your dad found me, and I got to meet you and now we have all of this. I get to be your mom and Liam’s mom, and you get to be a sister. I think that’s pretty magical.” Alice is quiet and he wishes he could see her face. “We’re a family, Alice. Families fight, but we forgive each other and we always love you. No matter what.” 

“So you…” a small sniffle cuts her off. She sounds years younger than she is when she asks, “You still want to be my mum… Even though you have Liam now?”

“Of course I do.” There’s no hesitation in her answer, not betraying the shock or the hurt that he’s sure she feels, he feels it. 

“And Dad?”

“Dad too. He loves you. And Liam. He’s got a big enough heart to fit both of you.” 

It takes everything he has not to go inside, to walk down the hall into his own room. Because he’d missed it - he’d missed the fact that his daughter was scared they wouldn’t want her anymore now that they had a new baby. He should have known, tries not to take it personally. She’s spent most of her life with Eloise, a mother who made it clear that she was a nuisance, unwanted, kept around because she was useful in the vendetta against her father. And they’d only had less than a year together, of real stability before her whole world was turned upside down again and a new child was in the picture. It’s no wonder she’d think she was replaceable, that parents’ love was conditional. 

“How much of that did you hear?” Emma asks, leaning against the doorframe. He looks up from his seat on the mattress, pulls his head from his hands.

“Most of it,” he sighs. “Thank you for talking to her.”

“She’s my kid too,” is her answer, arms crossed over her chest and chin raised even as he can see the small hesitation flicker across her expression. 

“Aye, she is,” he confirms, banishing the doubt from her eyes. 

She softens then, crossing the room to stand between his knees, taking his face in her hands and tilting it up to look at her. “She’ll be fine. She just needs some time to be upset.”

“With me, you mean. How long will that last?” The question is rhetorical but Emma answers anyway. 

“Well, she gets her moodiness from you.” Her little smirk has the corner of his lip twitching before it falls, wondering what else she inherited, what ways he and Eloise may have damaged her. “Hey,” Emma says, drawing his attention back. “She gets all the good things from you too.”

He sighs again, sliding his arms around her hips and resting his forehead against her stomach. “I messed up.”

“You got angry,” she corrects. “That’s not a crime and it’s definitely gonna happen again with a kid as free-spirited as Alice. And her brother will probably be the same… but worse because he’s got some of me in him too,” she chuckles. “We’ve only been at this for a year, babe. We have so much more screwing up to look forward to.” His laugh is more of a groan. “We’ve just got to make sure they know someone loves them.” 

Killian pulls back, raising his head to look at her and sees that far away feeling in her eyes that haunts her sometimes, creeps along the edges of her happiness and threatens to drag her down. And he’s there every time to pull her back to the surface. Just as she did for him. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t have that growing up.” She looks down at him, that brave, beautiful face she puts on when she’s not ready to talk about something, pretending it doesn’t bother her. “You do now,” he promises. 

“I know.” Her smile is wobbly as he turns to kiss the wrist of one of the hands resting on his cheek.

“Good.” 

“Think you can sleep?”

“Probably not.” 

Her reaction is sympathetic, then mirthful. “Great, so you won’t mind getting up for the next feeding?” 

He huffs out a small laugh despite himself, squeezing her side and holding fast when she tries to squirm away giggling. Grabbing the back of her thighs he pulls her into his lap, settling her legs on either side of him. Emma’s arms fall around his shoulders, grinning at him, radiant and gentle despite everything that happened tonight. 

“Aye, love. I’ll wake with the lad.” 

Killian reaches a hand up to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, pull her down enough that he can press his lips to hers. He kisses her chaste and soft, just enough to let some of the light she carries flow through him, let her breathe life back into his lungs as she has so many times before. The look she gives him when they break apart tells him she knows exactly what he was doing. 

***

As expected, Killian is still awake when Liam begins crying a few hours later. The sun is up now - it had still been dark when they got home. It’s a rare day on the island, the clouds having abandoned their near constant sentinel across the sky, the light shining down into the room and turning Emma’s hair that golden hue that always glinted like the waves when they were out on the water. 

Careful not to wake her, he leans over, places a kiss on her shoulder and rises from the bed. By the time he reaches the hallway, however, the crying has quieted, a low whimpering rather than his usual morning shrieks. Treading carefully in case it was a false alarm, he peeks into the open door to listen and see if he settles. 

But standing at the side of the crib, up on tiptoes with her chin resting on the gate is Alice, speaking low to the baby, words he can’t make out. Liam is bundled up in blankets but he can see his attention fixed on his sister. He hesitates, not sure if he should leave them be, if she still doesn’t want to speak to him, and curious to know what she’s doing. 

The door creaks when his shoulder bumps it and Alice jumps, whirling around to face him, and then startling again when she sees it’s him. He tries not to let the hurt show on his face. “I wasn’t going to take him!” she swears, eyes wide, anxious. 

“I didn’t think you were.” 

“He was crying.” Killian nods, taking a step closer, relieved when she doesn’t shrink away from him but turns back to her brother. “I was just telling him a story… I don’t like it when he cries.” 

“Nobody does, love,” he agrees gently, joining her at the edge of the crib. Liam’s face, tear streaked but not screaming or fussing, stares back up at him with wet eyes. He reaches a hand in, lets the baby grab his fingers, closing his mouth around them and chewing. 

“Why is he so sad?” she asks, eyes wide, worried. 

“He’s not sad.” He looks at his boy again, growing by the day, loved, cared for, drooling all over his hand. 

He has Emma’s eyes and chin, his ears and nose, but when Killian looks at him all he can see is his brother. He’d spoken his name out loud when the nurse had handed them the baby, in awe and disbelief as they laid him on his mother’s chest. Emma had smiled at him, misunderstanding - or perhaps understanding him more than he realized. Yeah. He looks like a Liam, doesn’t he? 

Kilian still sees his brother reflected in Alice’s expressions, the set chin, the stern determination of her brow. But every day she looks more like her namesake, beautiful and kind, and he can’t believe how lucky he is to have been loved by those two people and to be able to see them again in those he’s loved since. 

“He just doesn’t have the words to tell us what he wants,” Killian explains. “So he makes noise until we figure it out.” 

“Like a dog.” 

He snorts. “Aye, like a dog.” 

“Then… it’s not my fault?” she asks, not looking at him, fixated intently on the baby whose eyes are drifting slowly closed.

“Why would it be your fault?” he blinks at her, surprised, confused, wondering just how many feelings she’s kept buried these last three months. 

“Because I didn’t want him,” Alice admits, staring at her hands gripping the bars of the crib. “And maybe he knew it. And that made him sad. And maybe that’s why the fairies took him away.” She sniffles, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “Because I wanted them to.”

“No, love,” he says, unable to stand her avoiding eye contact any longer. He crouches down, taking both her hands and turning her to face him. “It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault. Not Liam’s crying… and not me getting angry.” 

She looks at her feet, bare on the cold wood floor. It all makes sense, her believing they wouldn’t want her, thinking Liam was sad because she didn’t want him. Alice knows what it is to not be wanted, how much it hurts, and he hates that he let that fear carry over into their lives here, that he didn’t make more of an effort to ensure she knew how happy he and Emma were that she was here with them. 

“I’m sorry I took him,” she apologizes, voice cracking with more tears she’s holding back and he can’t stand to see her cry again. 

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I yelled - I shouldn’t have done that. I was just so worried about you. Both of you.” 

She nods, understanding, so wise beyond her years in some ways and still very much a child in others. He pulls her into his arms, squeezes her tight and breathes a sigh of relief when he feels her little fists tighten around the fabric on his back, ignores the way she wipes her nose on his shoulder. He’s only just let her go when Liam starts wailing again and he stands to lift the baby out of his pile of blankets, squirmy and loud against his chest as he kneels back down next to his daughter.

Alice leans over to look at her brother, finger touching his damp cheek and then looking to him for help, expecting her dad to have a solution. He doesn’t. But she’d calmed him down before somehow, brought his screams to uncertain whimpers, speaking softly to him in a story only they could hear. 

“Maybe he needs another story,” Killian suggests and she looks at him hopefully, cautiously excited at being able to help. “Which one did you tell him?”

“The one about the selkie and the fisherman,” she answers, putting a hand on the baby’s head and brushing the fine hair back like he and Emma do for her. 

He smiles, heart giving a little lurch. “That’s a good one.” She’s thinking, brow furrowing in that way it always does when she’s concentrating, lips pressed together, holding back whatever idea is forming in her brilliant little mind. “What is it?”

“I think I know what he wants…” she ventures after hesitating, no doubt still feeling the repercussions of her last big idea. 

“What’s that?” he asks, watching her take a tiny hand, Liam’s fist wrapping around her finger.

“I know he’s not a changeling.” Her tone isn’t quite defeated but there’s acceptance there, and guilt. Killian waits, knowing she’ll finish when she works up the nerve. “But…” Alice looks up from the bundle in his arms. “His mum came from the water.” He knows where she’s going before she finishes, but lets her anyway. “Maybe it’s calling to him.” 

“You think he’d feel better by the sea.” It’s not a question but an understanding. 

She shrugs. “You do.” 

“I do,” he agrees. She’s a brilliant, insightful child - how she came from him and Eloise he’ll never know, but he thanks his lucky stars for the mistake that led to such light in his life.  

He used to hate the water, the endless waves cold and dark, soulless. That is, until he pulled a selkie from its depths and it became the place where he found solace, where he searched for answers when he could find none, knowing it had saved his life once and could again. 

“So does Mum,” she adds. Killian nods, faint smile pulling at his lips when she calls Emma her mother again. 

“Aye, that she does.” The sea had called to his brother too. And while he’d lost him to it, he knows that adventurous spirit lives in both his children now. “Why don’t you grab your coat, starfish.” 

“Really?” The excitement is clear in her eyes, the anxiety from before melting away as he accepts her explanation, acknowledges the truth in it. 

“Really. Be quiet though, alright? Let’s let Mum sleep.” 

She’s off down the hall faster than he can stand, already half-zipped by the time he reaches the front hall to grab his and Liam’s jackets. Practically bouncing, Alice leads them out the door as soon as they’re dressed. The baby squirms when the cool air first hits his face, turning with a fussy grumble into Killian who pulls the hat more snuggly over his little head.

He follows Alice down the path towards the shore, the little dock where they keep the dinghy frosted over with the first suggestion of proper winter. He calls for her to stay back from the shoreline, knowing that the water - not only freezing - can be unpredictable this time of year. She listens, waiting for them a few meters from the water’s edge, looking expectantly at her brother as he sees the ocean for the first time. 

They just stand for a moment, staring out into the choppy waves that seem to go on forever, listening to the crash of the surf against rocks further down the cliff. It’s cold, but not uncomfortable, Alice’s hair whipping wildly around her shoulders in the winter wind, and Liam snuggled quietly against his chest. At first Killian thinks he’s fallen asleep, but when he looks down at the baby his eyes are open, cheek smushed against his collarbone and seeming to listen to the waves along with them. 

“It worked,” Alice breathes, noticing just after he does. 

“Aye. It seems there’s a little selkie blood in your brother after all.”

“Can I…” she hesitates, knows she made a mistake and afraid to risk reproach - or perhaps making another. “Can I hold him?” He nods, handing her Liam and watching her handle him gingerly like she was taught. “Can we go closer?” she asks. “I want him to see it and he can only see a few feet ahead of him.” 

Killian smiles wondering what book she got that from, knowing he read it too. “Okay, but stay back from where the tide reaches and don’t let him wander off,” he tells her, as though he won’t be watching them both like a hawk and as though Liam can do more than lift his chest and shoulders off the ground. 

Alice nods solemnly, taking her task seriously as she walks a little ways down the beach, sitting down in the sand and setting her brother down in her lap. He can tell her grip is vice-like from here, one arm slung around his torso and the other pointing things out to him that he can’t understand. 

He’s not sure how long they’re out there, sun warm on his face and winds chill on his neck when he hears her footsteps behind him. “Hey,” is her groggy greeting, cold hands wrapping around his waist, lips pressed to the middle of his back.

“Hey,” he answers, hand settling over her frozen one, hoping to bring some warmth to it, the edge of the blanket draped around her shoulders held firmly in her fist.

“Did you guys make up?”

Killian nods, looking over his shoulder to try to see her face, chin resting on his shoulder now. “Aye.” He tilts his head in the direction of the children. “She found a way to get Liam to stop crying.” 

He can feel her smile pressed into his neck. “Why did I know it would be her?”

Chuckling, he stretches an arm out and over until he can wrap it around her, Emma curling into his side, wrapped in her blanket. “Because she’s brilliant.”

“So the water, huh? We should have thought of that.” 

“Hmm. He’s got sea water running through his veins - just like his mum.” Killian turns his head to kiss the crown of her head and she leans further into him. “What’s that?” he asks, looking down at the large bag at her feet. 

“I thought maybe we could take a day trip on the boat before it’s too cold. The four of us.” 

“I think Alice would love that.” 

Emma hums in agreement. “And maybe,” she adds, reaching out to try and wrap the blanket around him as well. “It’ll get them both properly tuckered out and we can have a whole night with no interruptions.”

“Swan,” he teases, shifting to pull her back into his chest so he can speak against her ear. “I can’t believe you’d use the Jolly to try and get me to ravish you all night.”

He can hear her eyes roll. “I meant to sleep!”

“Sure you did,” he smirks into her neck, letting his lips and beard scrape along the sensitive skin there and feeling the shiver he knows she’ll blame on the cold. “Mad, insatiable selkie,” he breathes, feeling her smile against his cheek before she tilts her head back, letting him find her mouth with his.

*****

Let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list!

@kmomof4 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @xhookswenchx @undercaffinatednightmare @jennjenn615 @dramioneswan @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @batana54 @lfh1226-linda @csalltheway @xsajx @xarandomdreamx @onceratheart18 @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway @zaharadessert @thejollyroger-writer @ultraluckycatnd @justanother-unluckysoul @spartanguard @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @wefoundloveunderthelight @sailtoafarawayland @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @snowbellewells @xellewoods @sals86 @karlyfr13s ​ @ouatpost ​ @skairipakomtrikru @lonelyspectator12  @anmylica   @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust @marcella2727

[smallrainclouds]

And part b to part six.

Warning:.some spicness, like kissing and stuff.

🌙💤💤🌙

*Reader's pov*

You were bone tired but pleased with your process. You pushed your hair out your face. Lately you had taken to wearing it down, it was nice not to have to fuss with fixing a bun or the headache that came with it sometimes

You hummed a song as you began collecting the next round of scrolls. You

You heard the door open and your eyes widened, "Hypnos! Here for a second time?"

You waved him in with a smile. He gives a smile in return, "Yeah, I got done early so I decided to stop by to check in."

You noticed there was a tension in his body that you haven't seen before but you decided to hold your tongue for now.

"It's going well. Come on, I got the backroom nearly done. I'll give you a tour."

You motioned to Hypnos to follow you, eager to show off your work. You didn't notice how his eyes stayed on you the whole time.

"So I got the history area set up, and I got it broken down by the time period followed by the area…" you chatted as Hypnos floated behind you. He was mostly quiet except for a quick question here or there.

"And that is it for now." You said, fingers brushing across the wooden shelves.

You looked at Hypnos, candle light was always good to Hypnos. It has taken some time to admit to yourself that You did like the strange handsome look of your husband. Now it was something you couldn't stop thinking about.

"Impressive. Do you enjoy doing this?" He asked.

You tilted your head, not expecting that question. "I do. I like the stories and even the non fiction can help give context to what a story is about."

Hypnos smiled, and damn it, you could feel a blush forming.

"Is this what you would do if you had a choice?"

"I…" You bit your lips, not quite sure what to say. "Maybe. I think I would, but I could be happy doing something else."

"Are you unhappy with your work?" You tried to keep your tone casual. It was already unusual for Hypnos to visit twice in one day and ask questions like these. It was silly but you didn't want to scare him off. Even if he was your husband, he was more like an acquaintance right now.

"That would be putting it mildly." Hypnos shrugged. "Not exactly the type of guy you would want doing paperwork, but that's all I do."

"Why do it then?" You frowned, "I mean being the god of sleep would have to be a full time job on its own."

Hypnos didn't say anything for a few moments, and you feared you may have pushed too much.

"What exactly did your family tell you? About the war, I mean?" Hypnos asked, his voice soft.

You crossed your arms and shifted on your feet. This wasn't what you expected. You still didn't like to think about it. That war had cost so much more problems than it fixed.

"My mother told me some things but not what you did. She did say you were the only reason she didn't lose a war. Which is huge if you know what my mother is like." You locked eyes with Hypnos. You could see the guilt on his face, another thing that surprised you tonight.

"Well, Aphrodite helped some. Even if she didn't realize it." Hypnos matched your gaze.

He grinned a little, and held up two fingers."I…put Zeus to sleep. Twice. I don't think he found out the second time, I was much more careful the second time around."

You gasped at him, "How in the world did you even get close enough to do that?"

This time Hypnos laughed and you tried to ignore the warmth in your body.

"I was a determined and a very stupid child back then. I thought I needed to prove I was worthy of being called a god." Hypnos looked amused at the thought of his younger self. "I saw Zeus had a hard time saying no to a pretty face and gave your mother the idea to trick Zeus by using his own ego against him."

You shook your head with a laugh, "No wonder my mother didn't say much, she probably was mad she didn't think of it first."

"After that, my mother wasn't exactly pleased that I was getting involved with the Olympians so much. She talked Hades into keeping me here until I grew up some. So now I'm here, listing off the dead. I think Mom was trying to show me the cost of that war."

"Oh, it's been so long since that war though. Surely she must have forgiven you by now." You had been a child yourself, just on the cusp of becoming a woman. Those hazy days of youth seem so long ago.

"I suspect if it wasn't for the current war right now, I would probably be out of the house."

A moment of silence then Hypnos floated closer, "Actually, could I confess something? You're probably not going to like me much afterwards though. But I need to tell you."

"Hypnos, I doubt that very much." You watched him stop his floating and stand. You noticed that he could block you from the door, but you felt comfortable enough with Hypnos. And you were sure he wouldn't do anything. Honestly, you weren't sure if you would say no if he did try something.

His face turned serious, "I really hope so."

You frowned at him, "Hypnos, just tell me. I don't like these kinds of games." You couldn't help the nervousness in your voice. If this was some joke…

"I helped your mother for a reason. I… I did it for you." Hypnos said quietly.

You stared, not quite understanding. "But we never even met…"

"No, we have once,Y/N. I don't think you noticed me the other times." Hypnos respond desperately.

You shook your head and took a step backwards, the shelves pressed against your back.

Hypnos grabbed your shoulders, firm but not bruising. He got close enough that you could feel his body heat and you looked away from him. You hated how your heart flip flopped between wanting to push him away and pulling him closer.

"This isn't funny, Hypnos." You snapped at him.

"No, it's not." Hypnos grabbed your chin. "Hey, Y/N look at me. Hey."

You gave in the gentle pressure and allowed Hypnos to pull your face up. You realized you were trembling as you met his light golden eyes.

"You really don't remember me, do you?" He whispered. You shook your head, unable to speak.

"I remember. Each time I saw you. The first time, you didn't see me I think. It was a party, you were dancing with one of your sisters. I was there because I wanted to see what the big deal was about the Olympians."

His thumb brushed your face, a small smile on his. "The second time was when I first tricked Zeus, you were in the hallways and I had to hide so no one would see me. I almost got caught anyway since I couldn't take my eyes away from you."

You couldn't look away, you almost felt like you were in a trance, only able to listen to Hypnos' voice. "The third time… I was in your mother's living room, and I could see you in the garden. I sneaked off so I could get a closer look, and that when I found you trying to listen in. You looked like a painting to me, this beautiful little goddess hidden among flowers. I had to send you off before I could even talk to you."

Your eyes widen, an old memory rushing back.

"The red poppies." You murmured and Hypnos' face lit up.

"She tried to offer me anything. Wealth, boons or strength, anything a young god could want. But… I wanted you. My mother tried to stop it, to save you from my foolishness, but Hera had already swore to the river Styx."

"Hypnos- I - this is too much." You shook your head. You placed your hands on his chest, but you were trembling too much to push him away. Your hand just curled into his tunic, shaking in a mix of anger and stock. And hurt, you thought maybe you could trust him.

"How- I can't even talk to you. My sisters-" you pulled your face away from him. Your voice cracked, "my sisters. My home."

Hypnos used both hands to hold your face as he bent down to look at you. "I know. I shouldn't have kept it from you. I would have thought your family would have told you."

You took a deep breath, "I-i thought you were a friend. I thought you were in the same boat as me. I thought maybe you were helpful in a battle or something and my mother saw a chance for some dumb political move and that Nyx was in on it."

You glared up at him, "I didn't know you traded for me, like -like I was some dumb cattle!" You stepped away from the side, back facing Hypnos; trying to get air into your lungs. You hated the fact the only reason you were able to get away was because Hypnos allowed you.

"First of all, you will not talk about yourself like that." Hypnos' voice went hard but you just scoffed at him, too upset at him.

He got close to you again, tone a little softer "And second, it wasn't like that. I honestly didn't think she would offer her own daughter up. I-"

You whirled around to face him, finger in his face. "You didn't have to take her up on it though!"

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. His face is a mixture of anger and desperation. He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you flushed against him. You raised your hand to his chest to push off but the fire in his eyes stopped you.

"I knew I would never get another chance to have you, Y/N. By blood and darkness,it was my only chance and I took it! I know what the almighty Olympians really think of us. I know I would never get to see you again if I didn't take up on her offer."

Hypnos lean down, almost close enough to kiss. "I would have done anything for you. I still would."

You tighten your hand on his chest, unable to move away, not wanting to move away. "You barely know me, Hypnos. Why? Why me?"

"Because I do know you, in the way that matters. I see how hard you try to please your family, how you get lost in the words of a story."

You shook your head, unable to deal with emotions that were building up in you. But Hypnos just kept talking.

"I know you have a soft spot for everybody, even the outcasts, how smart you are and how you always try to make sure to help anyone who needs it."

"I- Hypnos." You whispered.

He let go of your wrist to wrap his other arm around you. "Y/N, I don't know everything, not yet. But I would like to. Will you let me?" He asked softly, desperately.

You couldn't speak if you wanted to. You cupped his face and pulled his lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

Hypnos tighten his hold on you. Gently, he pressed a little more into the kiss. You gasped against his lips and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and just tried to hold on.

You didn't know how long or short the kiss went on when both you and Hypnos both took a breath. He pressed his forehead against yours, his golden eyes on your eyes.

"I'm still mad at you." You murmured, fingers caressing his cheek. He smiled, "If this is how good you are when mad, I can't wait to kiss you when you're happy."

"Oh, for goodness sake." You rolled your eyes, not able to hide your smile. Hypnos pressed a kiss against your cheek and then another one, slowly working his way to your neck.

You tugged him back up to face you before he could continue because if you didn't, you were to make some very foolish decisions.

"Can I kiss you again?" Hypnos asked, his hand cupped the back of your head and you nodded as you pulled him down for another one.

Suddenly the doors bang open, "Hey Y/N! I got past- oh." Zagreus' voice halted. You hid your face in Hypnos' chest, wishing for a pit to open up and swallow you whole.

"Zagreus, buddy. Ever heard of knocking?" Hypnos snarled, "Let me help, it when you use your head and-"

"You know what, I will come back later. Much later." Zagreus slammed the door shut.

Then opened it again.

"Congratulations you two!"

And slammed close again.

"I'm going to kill him." Hypnos murmured into your hair.

"Be nice, he is your best friend." You murmured into his chest.

"But he gotten used to dying." Hypnos brushed a kiss against your head. You sighed and looked up at him, "I said no, Hypnos. You said anything for me."

"I did." Hydnos agreed easily. He dipped his head down to met you in another kiss.

"Anything for you, Y/N."

[agnes-writes]

A Character Analysis on Seong Gi-Hun (Squid Game)

made at 2 AM running on 1 hour of sleep so I hope it makes sense

A lot of people were baffled by the ending of Squid Game, where Gi-hun actively chose to not get on the plane for his daughter and try to stop the salesman trying to recruit a player for the game.

I think it's actually quite fitting for his character.

Now, I'm not saying that he's not a bad dad for doing this, I'm just saying that all his actions make sense, especially if you analyse it.

Still, I'm going to use the bad father narrative and the common comments that come with it to form a clear picture for his main character trait:

Firstly, the fact that people say his daughter is his main motivation to play the games. Now, at first, you could definitely argue that this is true. He's first approached by a salesman (Gong Yoo, which, holy shit, he's so fucking hot, by the way) right after his daughter's disastrous birthday celebration. He plays, and makes his way home. At home, he finds out from his mother that his daughter will be moving to the US and he can only get her back if he can provide for her. Seeing it as harmless and a way to make quick money, he calls the number.

However, when the first game ends, he votes not to continue, and is sent back home. Here, we find out that his mother is severely diabetic. This leads to an argument where he vows to get the money for her treatment one way or another. Subsequently, he tries to beg both his friends and even his ex-wife for a loan, and almost gets the money from her ex-wife's current husband, who told him to stay away from his family. He's seen walking home in the rain and sees the business card right after that.

I think this episode cements the fact that his main motivation, is not, in fact, his daughter—she's only a small part of it; his main motivation is his desperate need for money for his mother's treatment, and that little jab of the stepfather to him just adds insult to injury, and therefore, just a bonus perk of winning the game. In fact, this is further proven in episode 8, when Saebyeok asks Gi-hun what he'll do with the money if he gets out, and he sees he'll use it for his mother's treatment, and then set-up a proper store for her, because it's actually her dream. Only then, so he says, would he try to be a good father to his daughter. His daughter was not on the top of his priority list for the prize money.

Next, the argument that he knew from the very start that he's playing for blood money, so why doesn't he just use it to provide for his kid?

I don't think that argument's very fair. I genuinely think that he did not, in fact, know what he signed up for, and that's because the game mods had phrased their rules in a very particular way.

The game mods had told them that if they survive all six games, they get to win the money. That is very open to different interpretations but what I think Gi-hun thought is that there isn't one winner—anyone who survives 'til the end will get a portion of that money. So my theory on his thought process is that he only signed up to risk ONLY his personal health and safety, not thinking he'd have to kill anybody else. In fact, in that one scene in Episode 4, when a few players don't get enough food and have a scuffle leading to the death of one player, he is the first one who demanded something be done about it, saying that they're not there to kill each other like animals, before it's revealed that foul play is, in fact, condoned and even rewarded by the game mods.

But now Gi-hun's stuck there and he has to see it through. But he doesn't have to be happy about it.

I think one of the scenes that further cements this is in the Tug of War game—in the moment, he doesn't want to die, but then they show alternating perspectives of his team and the opposing team, and there's a myriad of expressions on his face; one of them, possibly fear and guilt as he sees the faces of the people on the other team struggling to pull back. Then, in the elevator, we have a shot of him staring at the rope burns in his hands with a clearly conflicted and horrified look on his face—which I interpreted as the moment it had sunk in that he'd have to kill people to survive.

Next is the reasoning on why he left the prize money untouched, but gave 2/3 of it Sangwoo's mother and Saebyeok's brother, but not his daughter.

Now, we've established that he probably sees this money as blood money; Gi-hun probably feels incredibly guilty or blames himself for killing his friends and other people, or at least having some kind of hand in them. He's already promised to take care of Saebyeok's brother and Sangwoo's mother, so I'm not particularly surprised. The thing is, I think he gives the money to Saebyeok's brother and Sangwoo's mother and doesn't feel bad about where it came from is because he knows that's the reason why they played the games in the first place. It was their blood that was spilled, so it would have only been fitting for them to get money.

But why not his daughter? Again, this goes back to the guilt argument. Gi-hun thinks this is blood money; and knowing how he'd gotten it, knowing what he had to do to get it (and not being able to fulfill the main motivation on why he joined, treating his mother, who died before he could come back), it would weigh on someone. It would also make sense that he wouldn't want to give his daughter that money and try to explain it, not wanting to relive or come up with a lie for what he had to go through. In his eyes, that money is tainted, and he doesn't want his daughter anywhere near what he experienced in that arena.

Lastly, why he didn't get on the plane. See, this ties in to what I think is his main character trait; he sees a salesman trying to find players for the game, indicating that it is, in fact, still on-going, despite Oh Il-Nam's death, and interrupts them.

The reasoning behind this is that he knows his daughter is already well-provided for: even in the first few episodes, we see that she has a nice house and clothes, attentive parents and is clearly doing okay with her stepfather getting a steady job in the US. In his mind, she'll be just fine.

But he was in these people's shoes before—desperately trying to make ends meet, finding away to survive, only to be taken advantage of and made to sign their own death warrant for entertainment purposes. These people have no idea what's to come for them.

In Gi-hun's head, it's his daughter's life, who is already set and comfortable with her new family, versus the lives of possibly hundreds of people who had no idea what they're getting into, many of whom may not be as lucky as he is.

That would eat at his conscience, or so I think it would. Knowing that the games are still continuing and doing nothing to stop it with the little knowledge he has of them... That screws with your head, especially with his morals intact. So he doesn't get on the plane, and chooses to try and stop the games.

And that is the running vein of his entire character:

We have his mother, who only has him to help her, as his main motivation, and we see him help those who need help as the team builds—particularly Oh Il-Nam, or player 001, whom he perceived as someone who needs to be helped at his old age (but he isn't, honestly, fuck that plot twist), there's Saebyeok's brother and Sangwoo's mother who also lost their only providers in those games, and finally, to cement the on-going theme, there're the hundreds of people, just trying to make ends meet, being swindled into playing these death games for the entertainment of rich assholes.

Seong Gi-hun doesn't take care of everyone except his daughter.

He takes care of everyone who he thinks needs it.

And I think that's a wonderful core trait for a person to have.

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he��s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Blood Games {John Blake x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2484 Summary: Yours and John’s children never come off the school bus.

Deep in your heart, you were always afraid. Afraid of what would happen to John on the job, afraid of some sort of retaliation against your family because he really was such a good cop, afraid of the corruption inside of the department making it’s way into your husband’s heart. John was one of the good ones. That’s why you married him. But there was just so much of it, shown by the way that the villains had been taking over Gotham. It seemed like it was only one thing after another. If you didn’t have so much love for the potential that this city really could be, you would have packed your family up years ago and tried to hit the road, go somewhere safer. But Gotham was home. It was where John’s heart was. It was where your kids seemed happy. 

Any minute now, they would be getting off of the bus, and running into your arms. You were waiting at the stop, looking down the street with a couple of the other mothers, listening to the latest gossip. Something about a stepmother over-stepping their bounds. You were lucky you never had to deal with that. You were one of the few undivorced mothers on the block. You had no complaints about the father of your children. Your marriage was still a happy one.

Five minutes went by. Still no bus. You were starting to feel anxious. Started to pace back and forth. “It’s okay, you know how traffic is,” One of the other mothers said to you, putting their hand on your arm. You weren’t the fondest of being touched but you knew she meant no harm so you put a smile on your face.

“I’m sure that’s the case,” You said, trying to convince yourself. You kept on checking your phone. There was nothing from John. Surely he would tell you if there was some sort of case by the school. It wasn’t so far away that you wouldn’t  have been able to hear if there was some sort of bombing, like there had been at the hospital not too long ago. You texted John, not being able to help it. He texted you back right away.

‘Nothing called to us at the station. Call the school?’

You’d wait another minute. And then you would. The secretary picked up, though she sounded out of breath, like she was on her way out. “Hi, this is Mrs. Blake,” You introduced, though they knew you well. You were very involved in their school life, taking part in all of the fundraisers and the field trip. Your family really was your life.

“Hi y/n, how can I help you?” She asked.

“Sorry to bother you, but has there been any sort of delay with the buses? I’ve been waiting at the usual stop for about ten minutes now and it hasn’t shown up yet. Or is there some construction near the school that I’ve managed to miss?”

“Oh, that’s odd. Let me just see if I can track it down for you. You know what Gotham is like, there’s construction everywhere. I’m sure that there’s a reason for it...”

You heard some tapping of a keyboard on the other line. Some clicking of the mouse. And then a hmmm sound. “No, I can’t see any reason why there would be any delays. Are you sure that it wasn’t early?”

“I’m positive,” You said. You looked around at the other mothers who were turning to you, the policeman’s wife, for information. You were the only one who was thorough enough to make the call. “If they circle back for any reason, would you give me a call please?”

“Of course,” The secretary assured. You hung up and felt all of the eyes upon you. You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but your heart was beating a thousand times a minute. Sweat was beginning to come down on your palms. You didn’t like this. You did not like not knowing where your children were. You moved a couple of steps away, and you called John. He picked up at the second ring.

“Where are you?” You asked immediately, hoping that he was near the school. But your heart sunk when he told you that he was on patrol in the downtown area. “Nobody knows where the school bus is. John - John, I feel like I’m going to be sick. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

“I’ll be there soon,” John said, and ended the call. You stayed. You weren’t going anywhere, just in case there was a chance that the bus would be coming. That’s what you were hoping for. What you were praying for. Any glimpse of yellow and you were standing on your tiptoes, looking down the street. But nothing. The bus didn’t come. The other mothers called their husbands. Called the school. Called the police. And were looking to you as the policeman’s wife on what they should be doing.

You tried to hold strong. You kept your back straight, kept looking down the road. Any second now, any second your babies were going to be back in your arms where they belonged.

John pulled up in the cruiser, the lights flashing but the siren wasn’t on. “No sign of them?” He asked. You shook your head. Oh my god, how you just hoped that he would hop out of that thing and would hold you. Would tell you that everything was going to be alright. You always believed it coming from him. He was the most honest person that you knew. And the fact that he wasn’t saying that, wasn’t doing that, told you that maybe everything wouldn’t be alright.

“Look!” One of the other mothers said, pointing down the street. You turned and to your great relief, you saw a yellow school bus making it’s way down the street. You’ve never felt so happy to see the color yellow in all of your life. Your hand went over your heart, but you still felt that sick feeling. What on Earth had happened? You had some words for the bus driver. And by the looks of things so did John. And the other mothers. John finally got out of the car. But he kept the lights on.

The school bus pulled to the side. The door opened. The driver looked pale. The kids coming off looked sick. Three kids - four - five - sometimes yours liked to come off of the bus last because they were saying a long goodbye to their friends but-

But they weren’t coming off of the bus.

John marched on up those stairs, going straight to the driver. Stared at them, and asked his questions. The other mothers were looking at you, holding their own kids tight. Nobody seemed to move. Two of the younger kids were starting to cry. Your hands were shaking. The mothers were asking their kids what happened but they were too upset to say. They kept on looking at you, bottom lips trembling. You crossed your arms in front of you, waiting for John to come out, waiting to find out what happened to your babies. Was there a medical emergency? No, they would have reached out. You had your cellphone with you. There was no excuse.

John eventually came down the stairs. The door closed behind him. The bus continued on. “We need to go down to the station, now.” He told you, taking hold of your hand. He didn’t look so good himself. He was about the same shade of pale as the bus driver. He then seemed to take notice of, for the first time, the group of women who were looking to you, to him. “It’s okay guys, you can head on home. We have your numbers if there’s anything we need.”

“Okay,” The one closest to you said. They put their hand on your shoulder for a moment, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and then they all went to take their children back home. You knew that they were good people, but you also knew that they were glad they were not in your position right now. You gave them a little wave, and that was the end of you holding yourself together. As soon as you were in the front of the police cruiser, your first time in one of these actually, you let loose, tears flooding your eyes, your body turned entirely to your husband.

“Where are they, John? Where are our babies? What the hell happened?” The questions were coming out before you could stop them. And John, although he was nervous to say anything - he told you what the driver had told him.

Agents of Bane. Coming onto the bus. Calling for your kids by their names. Bane knew their NAMES. And the reason for the hold up was because your children were smart and they didn’t give themselves up. And none of the other children on the bus gave them up either. Nor the bus driver. It took them rustling through the bags to find something with their names on them to find your children. And then they were taken. The bus driver was so shaken, not knowing what to do, that their body went into autopilot, taking the rest of the kids home.

“He’ll be coming by the station after to get a statement,” John said, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh. Normally that would be pretty sexy, you loved when he touched you, but nothing in this moment felt good. Nothing felt like it would be good again.

-

The Batman was dead. But with him went the bomb that would have destroyed Gotham as you knew it. And those that had brought the bomb into the city. Bane. Talia Al-Ghul. The same people who had taken your children. The same people who had trapped most of the city’s police underground - but thankfully, not your husband. You didn’t know what you would have done if he had been missing too. You would have lost everything.

You and John were rushing to one of the precincts in the city. Your children. They had found your children. You were a nervous wreck, biting on your nails until they bled. John was driving a little more recklessly than usual. Swerving around traffic. Sirens blaring on the top of the car despite this not being a city emergency. But it was a family emergency. You couldn’t wait much longer.

John, with his longer legs, went in ahead of you, but you were close by on his heels. Your eyes scanning every face inside of the precinct. The weary and tired and underfed cops were milling around, trying to catch up on their work. Trying to deal with all that had happened inside of the city during the last couple of days. But then you saw him - Jim Gordon, out of the hospital, looking older than you had ever seen him, sitting on a bench with your daughter and your son, their little legs to small to even reach the ground from where they were sitting.

You heard their names being called out. It took you a moment to realize that it had been you, without realizing it. Their heads turned toward you and it was like the world was going in slow motion. Your daughter’s braids were frazzled, but still somehow being held together. You had done them for her days prior, when she wanted to look pretty for school. Two falling down around her shoulders. And your son with those eyes that he had inherited from his father - those dark brown eyes that one could just fall into endlessly. The wide smile. Two missing front teeth. That was a new development. They stood up, crying out, ‘Mom! Dad!’

Tears welled up in your eyes making everything blurry. You fell onto your knees and felt your daughter wrap her arms around your shoulders. You took in the smell of her hair, that natural sweetness that little girls seem to have. The smell that you had inhaled through her pillow each night because you needed something of her close to help you drift off. Your son, too. He was beside you, and then you were enveloped in an even bigger hug by your husband.

“They’re unharmed, we had a doctor check them over,” Gordon was saying, but it was in one ear and out the other. “A bit malnourished and in need of a bath but they’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” You said into the fabric of your daughter’s jacket, your voice coming out muffled. But Gordon seemed to have heard you either way. You felt a pat on your back and then the old Commissioner limped away, given you and your family some somewhat private time. There were plenty of looks from other officers, but most of them were friendly. They were smiling. This is why they had gotten onto the police force. For moments like this when everything turned out okay.

John’s lips brushed past your forehead, and then on that of your daughter, and then your son. “Thank God. Thank God,” He muttered over and over again. Looking at you. Looking at your kids. Checking them over despite Gordon’s words. He had to  be certain that they were okay. “I’m never letting you go again. Any of you.”

“How am I going to take a bath then, daddy?” Your son asked, looking up at him with a scrunched expression. “I’m not taking one with you or her-” He pointed at his older sister. You almost rolled your eyes. Leave it to them to start bickering after being rescued. Siblings. They never change.

“Your daddy will give you a bath when we get home, and I’ll give your sister one,” You said, rubbing his back up and down. “And then we’ll have a big dinner. Whatever you want baby.”

“McDonalds?” Your daughter ventured hopefully.

“Pizza?” Your son asked.

You and John looked at each other and for the first time in days, started to laugh. “McDonalds and pizza,” He confirmed with a nod, getting back onto his feet, lifting your daughter up  in his arms the way that he used to when she had just been a little girl.

True to his word, John didn’t let any of you go for a couple of days, until it was time for school. This time, he took them each morning. He picked them up each afternoon. No more school buses. No more fear of where they could be. No more waiting by the street for the yellow bus to come. It was rough going forward, trying not to helicopter parent but when your father is a cop, you get sort of used to that thing. Your kids were strong. Resilient. They bounced back despite their fear.

Just like their father.