#that one part in young and beautiful about aching soul

[luciouz]

Randomly made Sabine's scar rose shape

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie Munson wasn’t one who knew when to quit.

Eddie Munson was a lot of things, but he wasn’t one who knew when to quit.

He sold drugs when it was frowned upon because he wanted to help his uncle pay the bills. He did drugs because why the hell not?

He loved music that was too loud, he played games that were considered satanic, he wore his queerness as a badge of honor in the town that hated him.

He headed to hell, sacrificed himself for the kid he loved and people he barely knew, and survived the odds.

He graduated high school by tooth and nail, pursued his dream when everyone deemed he was a lost cause. He worked harder when being pushed down. He succeeded.

He made it big, achieved his dream, got fame and wealth at his disposal. He was notorious for the long list of flings left in every city he visited. He despised the snobs, bigots, and paparazzi.

He—

He tried to quit mooning over the beautiful man who had saved his life alongside the whole world. Who was the object of his desire and obsession. His dream and muse, his pain and yearning.

Who was the bane of his existence, the opium to the addict in his core. Dangerous and yet, lovely, irresistible.

Even so, he could never bring himself to ignore the monthly phone calls with Steve, listening to the warm voice that made his heart ache and flutter, checking in to make sure his boy was still safe in the town that he had left behind to go spread his wings.

Yes, his.

The moment Steve kissed him—shaky, tender, sweet—their souls had intertwined, bounded together for evermore.

Eddie couldn’t bring himself to deny it, that he had lost his heart to Steve Harrington since the first time he caught a glimpse of those pretty eyes and soft lips, wishing he could kiss them one day.

And then he did.

Back when their feelings were still new, fresh, tentative. They had done everything any young lovers would do upon having made it through an almost-apocalypse together.

They dove headfirst into each other. Touching, crying, kissing, laughing, and making love. They consumed, they devoured, they ignited.

And they crashed.

Eddie couldn’t stand being the town’s prime murder suspect even after the charge had been dropped.

Steve couldn’t bear leaving the only place he had grown up in, the place he had fought for with his life. He had people, friends who needed him there, who would miss him a terrible amount if he decided to leave.

But Eddie didn’t have such problems. His uncle didn’t rely on him the same way the kids did to Steve. His friends had left long before the ‘earthquake’ took place.

A label had sought him out after seeing his performance at The Hideout, offered him a good deal if he signed with them, and for the first time since his life had been turned upside down, Eddie saw hope.

He had talked with Steve about it. About leaving for a better future. About them making a life together somewhere outside the cursed town they had been unfortunately put in.

But it was a wistful thinking. Because sometimes, love was never enough. And sometimes, Eddie wasn’t the only scared one.

They parted. Tearful but surprisingly civil. They hadn’t been through so much just to lose each other over a mutual breakup.

Because Eddie still loved Steve.

And Steve still loved Eddie.

Simple as that.

"Don’t be hung up on me, Munson," Steve whispered to him, hugging him so tight that his healed ribs might crack again. Eddie didn’t think he would mind if it meant he could stay in this moment forever.

"I should be the one telling you that, Stevie," Eddie sniffled, hugging the boy he loved just as fiercely.

He suddenly didn’t want to leave anymore. Maybe he could apply for a position at the plant, asked Wayne for a recommendation. Or he could make do with the mine at the edge of the town, he heard they were hiring just the other day ago.

"Good luck, Eds," Steve pressed a kiss on his ear. "Don’t do drugs, don’t get in trouble, don’t be–"

"–stupid."

Steve laughed, tilting his head back and offering his pale throat for Eddie’s greedy eyes. The urge to lick, to bite, to leave a mark was strong, but Eddie just tightened his hold around Steve further, because the privilege wasn't his anymore.

"I was going for ‘cute’," Steve looked back at him, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, nails scratching the back of his nape teasingly, eyes light and twinkling with mirth. Eddie wanted to kiss him. "But I guess ‘stupid’ suits you just fine."

"Stop flirting," Eddie chided him half-heartedly, unable to resist it anymore and leaned in to peck the end of his nose.

Steve blushed, pretty and precious, before releasing him and finally stepping back. Too close and too far at the same time.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, and Eddie was thankful that their friends were considerate enough to give them some semblances of privacy after having said their goodbye.

Before Eddie could do something stupid like falling to his knees and begging Steve to go with him, the final boarding called for his flight.

"So this is it," he shrugged on his duffle and gave Steve a lopsided smile.

"Have a safe flight, Eddie," Steve squeezed his shoulder before stepping aside so the others could do the same.

As Eddie turned on his heels, he could feel Steve’s gaze trailing after him until he disappeared behind the gate.

"He kept asking me when would you come to Indianapolis, which was unfair because how could I possibly know that? And the dipshit just rolled his eyes at me with Aren’t you supposed to be his best friend or something? Then I had to set it straight with him that us being on the phone once a month doesn’t mean I’d know every deepest darkest secret about you."

Eddie felt his chest and stomach warm with fondness when Steve didn’t deny that they were best friends, didn’t insist that the position was for Robin only. Because Steve was cool like that. Because why on earth would he refuse to have two best friends who would go to hell with him?

Eddie bet if he looked at the mirror right now, he would see himself smiling like a lovesick idiot.

There was something so endearing about Steve whining to him about their kids and friends every time they talked.

It was as if they had been doing this their whole life. Talking about mundane things, asking about each other's days, chatting about everything and anything.

It would be awfully domestic if they lived together.

Eddie could imagine it, see it clearly in his mind.

Steve sharing the spaces with him, waking up in the same bed as him, standing in the kitchen wearing the Kiss the Cook apron, swaying to the songs from the radio, giggling cutely when Eddie smothered him with kisses, smiling warmly as they did the chores together, getting huffy and bitchy when they bantered, and humming softly to some random tunes Eddie just came up with.

Perhaps, they would all become his new reality if he took that first step.

Eddie Munson wasn’t one who knew when to quit, after all.

And for Steve, he would take a million steps to make them work this time.

"Are you sure, Stevie?" He asked.

"Sure what?"

"That you haven’t already known every deepest, darkest secret of mine."

He heard Steve take a deep inhale. Eddie smiled fondly. His smart boy, always knew him so well.

"Eddie..."

"I’m an adult now, sweetheart," he chuckled. "Gotta be the one addressing the elephant in the room when my boy is too stubborn to look at it."

"Don’t be silly," Steve said weakly, a bit breathless. Good to know Eddie still had that effect on him even after all those years.

"I can’t, Stevie," Eddie lowered his voice, like he was telling a secret. "Been silly for you since high school. Don’t think I can stop it now."

"I told you to move on."

"And I didn’t promise anything," Eddie bit back a laugh, knowing how frustrated Steve must be right now. "I tried. Haven’t you seen all of that?"

There was a reason Eddie did everything in his capacity to appear on the headlines most of the time. He wanted Steve to see him, to watch him, to be there for every little step he took, to be in his life as much as possible.

"... I have," Steve sighed, sounding more tired than dejected.

"So you know how hard it had been for me to find someone who could measure up to you," Eddie twirled a strand of his hair absently. "They always failed at the ‘having perfect hair’ part."

"Bet they didn’t know what Farrah Fawcett is, huh?"

"They just looked at me blankly when I told them to take better care of their hair," Eddie grinned at the lovely sound of Steve’s giggle.

"So," Eddie cleared his throat slightly and braved on when Steve quieted down. "My band’s final destination is Indianapolis. It’s a two-night stop. After that, I’ll take my well-deserved break in Hawkins for a few months, visit my uncle and our friends, and see if you’re gonna take me back."

"Eddie," Steve said pointedly. "We both agreed that it’s better for us to stay friends. And I don’t– I can’t watch you leave again. I’m not made for it."

"Baby," Eddie said softly, his heart breaking at the sound of Steve’s sharp inhale, like it was too much, like the word hadn’t been on the tip of his tongue every time they spoke. "Everything’s different now. Our kids are all in colleges, our friends have their jobs and families, and I think it’s time you allow yourself to live your life, Stevie."

"What are you trying to say here, Eddie?" Steve asked shakily.

"That I need you," Eddie poured out his heart. "I craved for you, missed you so much that it hurts me physically. All of my songs are about you and just for you. I’m obsessed with you, bewitched by you, my love. You’ve been in my mind for years now and I don’t think it’ll stop any time soon."

"C’mon, angel," he went on as Steve let out a small gasp. "I did everything you told me to. No drugs, no fights, no troubles. Haven't I been good enough?"

"Except you’re still hung up on me," Steve laughed softly, warmly.

"Yeah, I’m still an addict, after all," Eddie chuckled. "It’s impossible to quit loving you, baby boy."

"Me, too," Steve said after a while. "I'm still hung up on you, Eddie," his voice cracked as he admitted quietly, "still in love with you."

"Christ, we make quite a pair, huh?" Eddie chuckled, running a hand down his face.

"Tell me about it," Steve let out an amused huff.

In the next several minutes, they discussed what they would do when Eddie got back. And in return, Eddie promised to send everyone at home tickets and backstage passes so they could go see him once the show was over.

"I listened to them all, you know," Steve said amidst their conversation.

Eddie paused, feeling his heart somersault and pressing a hand on his chest to calm it down.

"I’m glad," he said, crooning, "'cause they’re my love letters for you, darlin'."

"Gosh, you’re such a sap."

He could hear the smile in Steve’s voice.

"Your sap," Eddie grinned so much that his cheeks hurt. "Only yours, baby boy."

"Guess you’re right," Steve giggled. "Can’t wait to see you again. My sappy poet."

It had been years since they last saw each other. At least on Eddie’s part, because he knew Steve had seen him plenty on the TV and in those magazines.

Eddie was relieved that they had been too stubborn to let themselves grow apart and still kept in touch to this day.

For being long-distance friends, they didn’t have a lot to catch up with except their pent-up feelings for each other.

Eddie looked at the framed candid photo of Steve on his nightstand.

In the shot, Steve was wearing his signature blue polo and snug jeans. Around his neck was a silver chain that carried Eddie’s guitar pick, tucked safely beneath his shirt.

He was watching the kids fooling around in the pool. Cold beer in his hands as he turned to Robin, whispering about anything he found funny like a cute gossip schoolboy.

Eddie’s boy.

Golden skin kissed by the sun. Hazel eyes sparkled with joy, like gemstones that tasted of warm caramel. Rosy cheeks, pouty lips, freckled nose. All perfect and divine under the bright daylight.

The photo had cost Eddie an arm and a leg when he asked to buy it from Jonathan.

It was worth every penny.

"Soon, angel," Eddie said softly. "I’ll be there before you know it."

Two days later, Eddie stood on Steve’s front porch with his luggage and rang the bell.

When Steve opened the door and saw him, a warm smile graced those pretty features.

"Hey."

There were no questions about why Eddie had returned earlier than planned. Because Steve knew Eddie was never good at the waiting game. And he had waited long enough for both of their sake.

"Hey yourself," Eddie smiled back, taking a couple of steps forward to erase the little distance between them.

As Steve tilted his chin up slightly to look at him, Eddie leaned down to peck the corner of that lovely mouth, resting his hands on the soft waist.

"I’m home, baby."

Naturally, Steve hooked his arms around Eddie’s neck and pressed their lips together—firm, tender, sweet.

Just like their first kiss.

"Welcome home, Eds."

[sollis-occasum]

a night like this - anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: you kept saying that everything was over between the two of you but anakin kept coming back to you every time.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, insecurity, jealousy, miscommunication, mention of blood and injury, quinlan vos beheads a bounty hunter (just one sentence and it's not in detail either), mention of a vomiting twi-lek, reader is working in a pub, no proofread

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i haven't decided yet but i may write a few more parts to this story. i hope you like it guys. please don't mind the english mistakes, i'm not a native speaker.

Being injured was not unusual for Anakin Skywalker, but he could never remember feeling so vulnerable before.

As he moved, his battle-weary body convulsed with a kind of pain he had never felt before, reopening wounds that had begun to close, filling his nostrils with the metallic scent of blood. If your delicate sighs had not mixed with his moans from his blood-soaked lips, the pain he was in would have caused him to lose all sense of time and space. But how could he have allowed this to happen as you gently ran your hands over his face, wiping away the sweat from his forehead? This was perhaps the last time you would welcome him into this house where you had created so many precious memories together, and Anakin wanted to engrave everything from that night deep in his mind. Every sound, every image, every detail...

You had tried to tell him hundreds, maybe thousands of times before that everything between you was over, that you belonged in two different worlds. Anakin Skywalker was a young Jedi fighting to ensure that the light side of the Force prevailed over the darkness in the galaxy. You were just an ordinary barmaid working in a seedy pub in a backstreet of Coruscant. Unlike Anakin, your life was not full of fearless warriors and nobles with endless wealth, but of hardened criminals, addicts, and bounty hunters. How could you trust him and open your heart to him when he had been trained to fight the people you considered your family for almost his entire life?

And your experiences were very different, too. Anakin had traveled to planets you had never even heard of before, and met people you could never even see on the HoloNet. Some nights when you couldn't sleep, you would ask him to talk, to tell you things, thinking that hearing his soft voice would help you drift off. He would tell you stories from his missions. Sometimes these stories took place on a mountain on Alderaan, sometimes in an underwater city on Naboo. Usually, the people who accompanied Anakin on these planets were just as interesting as the mission itself. Master Jedi, senators, stormtroopers, sometimes even Chancellor Palpatine himself...

These stories that you listened to with great excitement at first, started to create a thin ache in your heart that even you didn't want to accept. You knew that Anakin had no bad intentions, that he just wanted to share something with you, but no matter what you did you couldn't resist the jealousy that was trying to take over your soul. Knowing that there is another life somewhere outside of this swamp you were trapped in and that you could only hear about it from others was driving you crazy inside.

Sometimes Anakin would ask you questions about your life, but you would either ignore them or leave them unanswered. You had no intention of appearing mysterious or keeping secrets. You just didn't have stories that would interest someone like him who had seen the entire galaxy. What were you going to tell him? Do you know, Anakin, today a Jedi named Quinlan Vos came to our pub and cut off the head of a bounty hunter with his lightsaber. The man's head fell into the lap of one of the stripper Twi-leks and she started throwing up. I had to clean up the vomit along with the blood on the walls. What a beautiful day, isn't it?

No, no... You would rather remain silent for the rest of your life than endure Anakin's pitying gaze as he listened to these. At least that way you wouldn't have lost your self-respect.

You took a deep breath to clear your mind and turned your gaze to Anakin lying on your bed. He looked so innocent and defenseless with his wounded state that your heart ached for him. You wanted to protect him from all the evil in the universe by hiding him in your house, which was a temple of memories for you, but how could you do that when you didn't even have the strength to protect yourself? The only good thing you could do for him was to get out of his life before you could hurt him any further. You tucked a lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead behind his ear and muttered in a voice you could barely hear, "You shouldn't have come here, Anakin." You tried to make your voice sound firm and determined, but you couldn't stop it from shaking.

The young Jedi tried to sit up in bed, but couldn’t. He winced in pain and slowly lowered himself onto the headboard. He pressed his mechanical hand to the wound on his abdomen, as if the coldness of the metal would ease the pain. You placed your hand over his and began to gently stroke the metal surface with your thumb. Even though he couldn’t feel your touch, the gesture always soothed him. When you realized that having a cybernetic hand embarrassed him, you started doing it to show him that you loved everything about him, and over time it had become a habit. To Anakin, this robotic hand might have been a symbol of his weakness but to you, it was just a part of the man you loved.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a burden to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ani, you’re not a burden to me. You couldn’t be even if you wanted to.” You slowly removed his hand from his wound, as if you were afraid of hurting him, and kissed it. “What I was trying to say was that the Jedi at the temple could take better care of you. You know, with spells and all that.”

"Jedi don't do magic, they use the Force." He smiled for the first time since he had come to you. You shrugged, smiling. "They're all the same to me. I'm not sensitive to any of them anyway."

Your smiles and chuckles were not enough to break the serious air in the room. You had to stop for a few seconds and gather your courage to continue speaking. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed in the meantime, and your lips were drawn into a thin line. A sadder expression than Anakin had ever seen appeared in his eyes, reflected by the moonlight. The wrinkles on your forehead made you look like you had aged a few years in a few seconds.

"But we can't keep doing this, Anakin. You know that too. You can't come to me every time. We've talked about this many times before."

Anakin tried to get closer to you, but the burns and wounds were hurting him so much that he couldn't. He leaned back once more, taking deep, raspy breaths, and unconsciously began to squeeze the old sheet. Despite the pained expression on his face, he neither blinked nor took his gaze away from yours. You knew that by looking directly into you eyes, he was trying to see something deep inside your soul. Maybe a trace of the affection you had only ever felt for him, or maybe a glimmer of hope that you would never give up on him... But he could see nothing but determination on your face, blurred by his misty eyes.

“Don’t do this to us,” he said in a pleading voice. The tears he had been trying to hold back had finally started to flow down his cheeks. With a quick movement, he pulled his mechanical hand from yours and wiped his face, hoping that you hadn’t seen them. He hated the power you had over him.

“Don’t give up on us like this.”

When you saw Anakin’s wet eyelashes, you felt an overwhelming desire in your heart to pull him close to you, to lay him on your chest, to caress the soft hair he had grown for your sake while he cried and tell him that everything would be okay, but you couldn’t do it. You knew that the moment you showed weakness, your ex-lover would draw strength from your hesitation and try to fight against your inevitable end. You did the only thing you could do and shook your head, hiding behind your cold expression. "I have no choice, Ani."

"I love you, does that mean nothing to you?" The sadness in his eyes was giving way to anger, but his voice was so weak that he could not convey his rebellion to you.

"Of course that means something." you said in a calm tone, almost mocking his anger. "I love you too, but I will not allow you to waste your life on a relationship that has no future. If you are so determined to go against the Jedi Code, you should at least do it for someone worthy. Senator Amidala, for example. She is a beautiful and noble woman, and it is clear that she has feelings for you. She can use her power and position to help you. I will only be a hindrance."

"Nonsense," Anakin snapped. "Padme is nothing more than a trusted friend to me. You are the only person I need to continue. I can fight the whole galaxy as long as you're by my side."

You sighed slightly and got out of bed. “We won’t have this conversation again, Anakin. My decision is final and there is nothing you can do to make me change my mind.”

You knew you were doing the right thing for both of you, but why did it hurt so much? Why did the right choice always require such sacrifices?

You bid Anakin a last farewell with an innocent kiss on the lips and started walking towards the old wooden door of the room. You could feel the salty taste of your lovers tears on your lips.

“Stay the night here and get some good rest. But I don’t want to see you here when I get home from work tomorrow.”

Those were the last words you said to Anakin before you left the room and his life forever. “This can’t be the end of us,” he muttered as he looked at your shrinking figure. He started to tangle his fingers in his hair that you had been gently stroking a few minutes ago and started to squeeze it. He shook his head violently from side to side as if denying the cruel words echoing in his mind.

"I swear I will find a way to fix everything and bring you back to me."

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ I AM THE KNIFE WHICH WILL SLAUGHTER HEAVEN ( part ii. )

IT IS YOUR PART TO KILL ME , MINE TO DIE WITHOUT FLINCHING.

-ˋ ♡ ◞ alhaitham ･ cyno ･ scaramouche. genshin impact. cw : violence ( non-graphic/descriptive ). angst. everyone is fighting, sometimes it's a little sad, sometimes there are 'but we could have been something' vibes ٩(ఠ益ఠ)۶. title cr : heiner müller. quote cr : epictetus. repost. tagging @pixelcafe-network ଓ.°・・・ part i.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ alhaitham

"you've caused more trouble than you're worth. what did you expect would happen?"

a moment's notice : the swift approach of the acting grand sage, a collision of bodies, and the failed escape from his grasp as you both come crashing to the floor, books and documents scattered about as result of havoc. the back of your head makes contact with cold tile and you lose your senses ; it is suddenly hard to breathe, your chest rising and falling with vicious violence, and you are not sure if it is from the fall or the way alhaitham presses his weight on top of you in means of apprehension.

you blink once, twice, eyes wide and veins surging with an adrenaline unfathomable, let out a breathy laugh at his slipping facade of apathy. there's an unfamiliar rage, a quiet anger, one you almost desire to see more of yet despise all the same.

of course he knew all along. who would he be, after all, if he could not detect a spy sent to infiltrate the akademiya and bring turmoil to sumeru itself?

this is not a betrayal, alhaitham thinks, but there is a cruel brutality that makes itself known in the way the knife digs into your flesh. this is not a betrayal, he reminds himself, because betrayals are meant to hurt.

you expect him to rid of you with ease, press the blade just a little bit further. you expect this painful sensation, but you do not expect that strange flicker of reluctance -- of something else that you do not want to deem as grief, because that would mean something you do not wish to consider. but it disappears as quickly as it appeared, gone, replaced with utmost desolation.

"go ahead." the words are hard to speak, but you smile nonetheless, watch his humanity seep through everything he has ever preserved in the act of living. "one of us has to survive this, don't we, alhaitham?"

❀ ﾟ. ༄ cyno

judgement day is never meant to be a beautiful thing, the granting of punishment a harsh and merciless being. cyno wears the role of the general proudly, a gentle heart turned stone when the trials of treachery fall before him. he does not bear the responsibility of deeming another as deceitful, leaving the akademiya to such matters, but this --

there is a ringing in his ears, a desperate beating in his chest, frightened.

he does not know what to make of this.

you stand in front of him, disheveled, crimson smeared across your skin. there is an uncertainty that hides beneath the sanguine as trembling hands rise in sign of surrender, muscles aching in protest from endless battles against cyno.

you do not know if any of this is right. you do not know if you are right or wrong; you do not know if he is right or wrong. you wish it could be that easy, see the world of knowledge in black and white.

you are unsure what to make of this. you are unsure if you're regretful, if you're sorry for your actions, but you know that you are sorry to him. you don't dare to speak of such apologies, know they have no place in the long friendship you have shattered and broken and ripped apart.

you have a job to do and so does he. how you wish you could have done it together, just as you did in the golden days where you were young and naive, oblivious to opposing ideals in a world where the worst was not the breaking of one's heart and soul.

"please tell me, general," and somehow, it stings to hear that and not his name and the tenderness that accompanies it, "what judgement will you pass upon me?"

there is a weariness in your voice, an admittance of defeat, because you do not think you can endure any more of this, and maybe you do not regret this, the surrendering of yourself for the sake of another. no, you will not regret this, you think, so you swallow hard, erase the fear in your heart in preparation for the end.

❀ ﾟ. ༄ scaramouche

"dearest balladeer," the title slips from your tongue, drips with venom and all things hideous, "you've betrayed us, haven't you? run off with your little treasure, gone against tsaritsa and everything you've ever known. wouldn't it be a better fate, granting your loyalties to her rather than falling by my hand?"

you tilt your head, observe the sword you wield with childlike innocence. in the reflection there is your delighted gaze, a semblance of the gnawing insanity the delusion has given as blessing.

"betrayal?" there is a hatred born from the depths of despair that resides in sharp tones, brings forewarning of the suffering you will endure, "what do you know of betrayal?"

you force a smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes and he notices this. how dangerous and daring his words are ; your hand aches, grasp on the weapon so tight that you almost feel it could shatter in all your fury. you do not think about the past or who you once were before you took on the glory of a harbinger.

no, you do not think about the past or who you once were because it matters not, yet there is something so damaging in his response that the memories surface if just for a moment -- just a moment, you think, but already that is too much.

it doesn't matter. you do not come in warning nor to retrieve a harbinger lost in his own greed. your intentions were to kill him from the start, bring forth the finale to one deserving of it all.

"you never fail to impress me, scaramouche." your words are filled with amusement, but there is nothing on your visage, a terrifying blankness : no anger, no lingering madness. "not only are you selfish in your wants, but you are selfish in the desire to be known as the only one who has suffered."

you raise your weapon at him, tilt your head up in gesture that he does the same. you bore of this nonsense.

"come, balladeer. i'll grant you the kindest ending, erase you from an existence you never deserved."

[ari-cuno]

Feelings are hard.

A quick Aim and Axel drabble

Tw: Angst, Post-Partum Depression (implied) , sickness

Axel belongs to me

Aim belongs to @zu-is-here

Anko was just an accident…a fluke. Certainly not an unwanted accident, just a little blip that wasn't planned.

Axel certainly hadn't planned on becoming a parent so soon out of all his siblings, especially his sisters, with their already blooming relationships. He was alone for the most part before this, the girl of his dreams having rejected him and leaving him in the pitiful ‘friendzone’ as they say. He'd never been the best at expressing his feelings to others besides his immediate family. It was hard to ask for help, or to show weakness, especially when so many people relied on him during harsh times his parents were gone.

…and then he found Aim.

Axel had wanted to explore how far he could go in his multiverse, despite the warnings from his mother about straying too far, thinning the borders between their world and those of an entirely different multiverse. Oras had done it before when she met alternate versions of important out codes and even when communicating with the voices, but he was…in search of someone.

His worst fear was he'd be long gone by then, time was strange between worlds afterall. Axel sort of was annoyed by his parents revealing his immortality so late. He'd remembered sensing a little spark so long ago in his childhood that stuck close to his heart for so many years.

Axel searched for what felt like forever, a grassy field before him with a tall, healthy apple tree in front of him. When all hopes seemed lost he hadn't noticed a much larger skeleton looking surprised a few feet away from him.

“...Can I help you?”

Axel laid his head on the soft cushion tiredly, although it did nothing to stop the constant aching sensation in his body.

…no one had told him being a parent could be so scary.

There were never any troubles with Anko. He'd appeared one day, only serving to complicate the relationship between Axel and the couch potato Aim had reserved himself to. He wasn't born by normal means, he'd just appeared one day, a happy little accident that was quickly accepted into the family.

But this was different.

The baby currently curled up in the bed in front of him wailing away hadn't been made like that.

Axel understood Aims' way of affection, he understood and respected that way in which he showed it. There had been a spark one day, and whether they thought of it or not, a decision was made. Axel had wanted more, he'd wanted love, he wanted to be someone worth loving…but also love others that way too.

…

“Shhh…” Axel tried to hush the suffering little girl gently, her soft cries making it hard for him to focus his own thoughts. It was hard being weak for so many months, the vulnerability was foreign to him, even with the support he was shown. And yet…things hadn't been okay.

He was scared, oh so scared. Eve, his beautiful daughter, their beautiful daughter… had been born sick.

She was sick, and they didn't know why. Her body and soul were weak, leaving her vulnerable and frail. Despite his powerful magic and blood…what could have gone wrong?

Axel tried so hard, he tried to give her whatever worked to ease her pain. It had been several weeks since her birth…and it had gotten worse. Nothing was working, she still coughed, cried, and the most he could do was hush her for but a brief moment. He'd left her older brother with his parents for the time being.

It would be scary if Anko saw one of his parents crying.

It made him feel weak and ugly, but the tears streamed down his face as he reached out, holding Eve's little hand with a gentle yet fierce grip. It was hard to resist the urge to make his crying vocal, but he choked back little sobs as he stared down at her. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve to suffer so young. It was terrifying, he wasn't…wasn't sure how she would feel better- *if* she would feel better-

“...Axel?”

Axel took a deep breath, quickly trying to wipe his tears away and hide the stains left on the blanket below. “A-Aim… ?” He said, silently cursing himself for stuttering like a fool.

Aim was there, orange tinted goggles and the large body of a huggable man. Even through the goggles he could see the concern on the tallers face. “Everything okay? I heard her crying, but…” Aim paused, watching Axel desperately trying to recompose himself.

“...Were you crying-”

He was going to hate himself for this later.

Axel practically fell into the man he loved for most of his life. He buried himself in his taller frame, unable to stop the cries from coming out. He needed this…

Aim was momentarily stunned as Axel sobbed, weeks of pure exhaustion, worry, and fear crashing down on him in an instant.

“I'm sorry…” Axel apologized quietly, trying to calm himself down. “She's not getting better…I don't know what to do…”

There was a heavy silence.

“I'm scared…I can't do this alone…” Axel finally confessed, “...I need you. I want to be more with you…“ he whispered in a slight pleading tone.

“I love you...”

[fanaticsnail]

Red-Hair Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

Art link

Red Haired Shanks:

Dancando Lambada (one-shot)

After your ship crashed just off the coast line of your hometown, your friend: the bride, is left without a Captain to perform her ceremony to unite her with her beau. Fortunately for you, you see a ship coming in off the coastline. Will their captain help you in exchange for a night of good food, fine drink and sensual dancing?

Remember Me (one-shot)

Ten years since the love of his life was claimed by the sea, Shanks finds himself celebrating her memory with many a drink in a fishing village. Spluttering over his amber ale, Benn Beckman pales in freight at the sight of a woman drinking merrily at the bar. But it couldn't be her, she was lost to him.

Where is my bride (Sapsorrow Spin Off Drabble)

Once lost, again found: Shanks has accidentally bcome lockd into a cruel plot to have him marry a woman he has never seen nor heart of. The timer is ticking, the claws of the spectre of a woman scorned tethered to him and awaiting to claim his soul should he fail. He has seven days to wed. But where are you?

Two More Times (one-shot NSFW)

A meet up with a beautiful Captain has you feeling unworthy of being by Shanks' side as his partner. Shanks does not like being ignored - he wants to showcase his pretty girl sat on his knee. He reminds you of your importance to him, while punishing you for behaving like a brat. His brat.

What do I do? (One-Shot) (Not 'x reader')

Uta is going through a leap week and Shanks is an overwhelmed teenager. He does his best to soothe her, but becomes overwhelmed by the wailing cry of his daughter. He calls the one person he knows has hands on experience with a situation exactly like the one he's found himself in.

Drabbles & Headcanons:

Shanks Likes to Dance HC Drabble

Benn Beckman:

When You Had The Chance (one-shot)

Serving as first mate to the Buggy-Pirates, it was your job to keep your captain grounded and uplifted. When tempers flared, he decided to confront his childhood rival once and for all - pulling out all the stops to finally lay their feud to rest. One of them would be leaving with their life, the other fallen at their feet. Instead of stifling his fury, you decided to elevate your captain’s wrath: seeking vengeance of your own against the man who once cast you aside after you confessed your feelings for him. Crew against crew, Captain against Captain, First-Mate against First-Mate - will you win, or lie at the mercy of the man you once loved.

"Mister Beckman" (one-shot)

The first mate of the Red-Hair pirates is attempting to relax and enjoy his evening with you, but is rudely interrupted by Shanks' tinkering and clanging within the Captain's quarters.

Kind And Gentle (One-Shot)

Your shoulders and back ached with a pain you had attempted to cast aside as you went about your duties. The ache turned excruciating, your focus now being taken hostage between the gripping pain. Fortunately, the grip of two firm hands found your body and eased you through the torment.

You shot a baby? (Dialogue)

Part 2 (one-shot)

Benn Beckman shot Eustass Kid's arm off. You are not happy about it.

Daughter of the Sea (5/5 series)

As a reformed spymistress working for the new title holder of "Worlds Greatest Swordsman," you are prepare for the worst, anticipating every possible outcome. What you did not prepare for was Mihawk's oldest rival presenting you with a sight that had the pair of you perplexed: his latest plunder.

After first meeting years ago, Beckman had longed for you from afar. All those feelings come flooding back to him once he sees the young baby in your arms.

He's in love with you (one-shot)

Benn Beckman can no longer ignore the way he feels about you, and it's eating him alive.

[blackknight-kai]

So sorry to bother you, but while I was cleaning our fridge and listening to music, Lana Del Rey's Young and Beautiful played, I can't stop thinking about mortal fem reader with Sun Wukong being like, "Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? When I got nothing but my aching soul?" 😭

So if that's okay, I want to request a short fic about Wukong/Mortal!Reader going through this dilemma? What is he going to do? To say? I'm so sorry for this angst but I'm so HMSNDGSG 😭😭😭🙉🙉🙉

Ngl I’m forever an optimist (also I’m baby 💀 I’m like ‘no heavy angst happy ending only!’) so uh yeah 🤣🤣🤣

This may not be a full fic but here you go!

Wukong and you have discussed your aging at some point. It honestly was probably one of the things that held you back from furthering your relationship with him. But it was hard to resist because well….hes HIM. Charming and sweet when he wants to be, especially for you. You find his nature endearing and honestly? He wants to be better for you. For your life together.

Thing is though, you’re gonna age. And unfortunately it’s a sensitive topic. Why? Because it’s painful in different ways for the both of you.

You fear you won’t be beautiful or be able to keep up with him. Just a husk holding your soul…

He fears losing you in general.

Both are valid. And honestly you hadn’t told him your exact fear regarding it before tonight. Something about today got to you. Maybe it was the way your back ached? Or the way your knee popped.

But today just was not a pleasant day for your thoughts. You start to really think about your future, something you shy away from due to how depressing it seems. And Wukong can sense your mood shift. Knows something’s wrong.

It takes him a while to weasel it out of you, he brings you flowers and your favorite treat. He even rubs your shoulders and kisses your neck soothingly as you relax in a warm bath together.

When he softly asks you what’s been wrong, well you honestly don’t have the walls up to deny him an answer. Hearing your fears about your youth and beauty don’t necessarily surprise him, but it does bother him.

It hurts him to think you worry about such a thing. As if he’d ever tire of you or find you anything less than gorgeous. His main fear is just losing you entirely, you no longer being there at all…the though makes his chest ache enough to want to rip his heart out. Which he might do if the time ever came for you to disappear from his side.

He pulls you back against his chest and nuzzles his nose and mouth against your neck as he reassures you that of course he’s going to find you beautiful, no matter what. How nothing not even wrinkles would ever make him stop loving you. That he will love every single part of you from here on until the end of time. Wukong spends the next several hours pampering you and showing you just how much he loves you, and will continue to love you. He is soft, tender, and gentle with his words and touches. Pouring every ounce of his feelings for you into every action and murmured word.

He does tell you that it won’t matter if you go grey and slow down. He will care for you and be by your side as long as you let him. That you better let him, or it might kill him. He wants to be with you for every moment up to the last so that the last thing you see, hear, smell, touch, taste, and know is his love for you.

Come morning you feel better but the thought of growing old and slow while he remains as he always is tingles in the background of your mind.

His too.

And so, he makes a decision. One he will definitely discuss with you but only after he’s found the solution. Because he would never ever force something on you, not like this. But he is going to get you an option.

Months maybe a year or two later he finally has something. It’s tangible and will work. You could remain by his side forever if you so choose. But….the question now is…will you choose to do it? Or will you refuse and let life take its natural course?

He will respect your choice….but with every fiber of his being and hair on his body he hopes you choose him.

(On the flip side, there’s the alternative of him finding a way to rid his immortality but I think that’s less likely. I know there are darker sides to this but I didn’t feel like exploring that here 😊).

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

I was recently going through my playlist and stumbled upon 'Young and beautiful' by Lana Del Rey and my brain has been rotting ever since.

Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon and Satan with this prompt? (Preferably F!MC who's in like her human form with the sheep bits <33)

F!MC who during one of her not so cheery days finally had to face the fact of just how much difference there is between her and her lover's species after denying and ignoring them for so long and that's what brings her question up :

❝Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?.. will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?❞

How will our lovely characters reply? And do they keep their promise? If so, how?

(Optional part ahead) -

What if they had kids as well

- M.🥀🦋

Young and Beautiful | Yandere Obey Me

Of course with creatures that are in romantic relations the talks of life and the grave are bound to happen. In your case whether you’ve explicitly agreed to be in this union or it’s been decided on by the other party only that conversation is being had. Too bad they’ve already though about it for you:

Barbatos

“What gives you the impression I’d let death keep you from me?”

He knows that’s not what you asked him 

But that’s what it represents for him

He thinks growth is great because its what makes you so perfect

But if he has it his way you’re not getting to that point

He’s already mapped out multiple different plans to keep your youth for as long as he decides

Which is forever

That or he could kill you and have diavolo pull some strings form

But he’d rather not have your actual death plague his mind

“I’ve already accepted that you’re mine in every which way.”

Simeon

“Of course I will. You’re everything to me!”

He actually means this

But it worries him a bit that you’re worrying about it

Are you having thoughts of death? Did you have a close call recently?

It’s just so risky 

It’s even riskier considering your relationship with the devildom and the celestial world

He knows you’re the best to him and many others unfortunately so he’s prepared

“Hey Michael, I wanted to talk to you about that…special position you were working on. I just need to make sure we get them before the other side first. It has nothing to do with Diavolo’s offer, I just need them to choose my the right decision.”

[nayziiz]

Team Dynamics | LN4

Summary: To celebrate the launch of their 2024 car for the upcoming F1 season, McLaren hosts a masquerade gala event that sees two souls connect and lead to a whirlwind romance. Unfortunately, the pair realise soon after that they are to work together quite closely after they agreed it would only be a one-night thing.

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, one night stand, unprotected sex

Pairing: Gemma (I don't like writing with Y/N or reader) x Lando Norris

Series Masterlist

PART 1

Gemma, with a noticeable waddle in her step, turns a corner, seeking refuge from the lively atmosphere that surrounds her. As she enters the quiet corridor, a sense of relief washes over her, and she releases a heartfelt sigh. The toll of the night is evident in her tired feet, which ache from hours of navigating the bustling venue, and her head throbs with the echoes of the lively event.

In the serenity of the corridor, Gemma's gaze is drawn to a lone figure at the far end. The dimly lit hallway casts a subtle glow on the scene, and she cautiously approaches the person who seems to be in a similar pursuit of solace. A young man, casually sipping from his glass of champagne, leans against the wall with a relaxed demeanour. One of his legs is pulled up to his chest, adding a nonchalant touch to his posture.

As Gemma draws closer, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, she notices the man's gaze lifting from his drink to meet her eyes. Despite the masks concealing their faces, a silent connection is forged as their eyes lock in mutual recognition. A subtle smile graces the young man's lips, a spontaneous reaction to Gemma's presence. However, he momentarily forgets that his mask obscures the brightness of his smile.

“You know, it bothers me too sometimes.” Gemma comments, out-of-the-blue.

“What?” Lando responds, confused by her statement.

“If you’re not supposed to eat at night, why would the refrigerator have a light in it?” Gemma explains, attempting a joke to ease the man’s tension.

“That’s, uhm, that’s going to haunt me now, thank you for that.” Lando laughs as he beckons for her to sit down next to him.

“I can’t be the only one who has sleepless nights over it.” Gemma continues to joke as she leans against the wall beside him.

Lando continues to chuckle at her half-hearted attempt to lighten his dark mood. But, it worked and he was feeling lighter by just laughing.

“So, why are you hiding down a mysterious hallway?” Lando wonders as he looks up and down the hallway.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Gemma counters.

“People.” Lando sighs. “Too many people.”

“Hmm. Yeah, same.” Gemma laughs. “But, moreso my shoes.”

Lando peers down and spots a pair of high heels on her red and swollen feet.

“Yeah, those don’t look very comfortable.” Lando agrees, his eyes drifting up from her feet all the way back to her eyes.

“You’re welcome to give them a try.” Gemma suggests, a smile forming on her lips as she continues to tease him.

“I’ll leave that to the professional.” Lando counters with a chuckle.

The two sit in silence for a minute or two as they stare at the Victorian wallpaper on the wall across from them. Gemma turns her head slightly towards Lando.

“You know what else is quite weird.” Gemma starts.

“Tell me.” Lando implores, curious to see what else leaves her lips.

“That you’re overwhelmed by all these people and instead of leaving, you choose to sit in this hallway.” Gemma states.

“I can’t really leave, to be honest with you.” Lando shrugs. “I can say the same about you, considering how painful your feet look.”

“Hey, beauty is pain they say.” Gemma argues, mocking him. “So, what? Is your date inside talking to all the rich folk, is that why you can’t leave?”

“Nice way to ask if I’m single.” Lando chuckles again.

“Not asking, dear. I’m just looking for some drama to spice up the night a bit.” Gemma counters, almost pouting as she looks at him.

“There’s no date. Or girlfriend, for that matter.” Lando explains. “Just lost hopes and dreams.”

“That’s depressing.” Gemma sighs and leans her head against the wall behind her.

“Now your turn.” Lando beckons, waiting to hear her explanation as to why she was in the hallway too.

“Just like you, I cannot leave. I’m here for work purposes, so I’ll stick around and enjoy the open bar until they ask me to leave.” Gemma explains, holding up her glass of wine in the air.

“I see, so you work for McLaren?” Lando wonders, taking another sip of champagne.

“You guessed correctly.” Gemma nods.

“And, what is it that you do?” Lando continues.

“I’m a data analyst in the simulator department.” Gemma explains.

“So, you have an indirect influence on how the season will turn out?” Lando asks.

“I guess you could say so. I use the data from the driver’s simulators so the mechanics can change what’s necessary on the car, so yeah, maybe a little.” Gemma responds.

“That’s pretty cool.” Lando breathes, a smile teasing his lips.

“And, you? I assume you work for McLaren too since you can’t just up and leave?” Gemma queries.

Lando turns to her and smiles, a chuckle escaping his lips. He realised that she didn’t know who he was, or at least didn’t recognize him with his mask on. He quickly removes his mask to reveal his sweet smile, completely taking Gemma by surprise.

“Lando. I’m one of the drivers. Nice to meet you.” Lando states.

“Obviously, you’re one of the drivers.” Gemma counters with a joking eye roll before removing her own mask too. She’s beautiful with green pools for eyes and full lips.“Gemma. Nice to meet you, Lando.”

“At some point we’ll have to go back inside.” Lando mumbles.

“Only to return to this hallway again.” Gemma adds. Lando stands up and helps Gemma to her feet. “Not just a great driver, but also a gentleman.”

“A guy can have more than one talent.” Lando teases as they walk back towards the main hall pulling on their masks once again.

Gemma sighs as she looks at the crowded hall. Lando peers down at her and smiles once more. She’s so beautiful, he thinks. Gemma’s eyes land on the bar which is relatively quiet. Her glass is empty and it’s time for a refill.

“Another wine?” Lando asks as he guides her towards the bar.

“What’re you having?” She asks him.

“I think it’s time for something stronger. Maybe a vodka soda.” Lando suggests.

“I’ll have the same.” Gemma agrees.

Lando places the order for the vodka sodas and hands her hers. They turn to face the crowd while sipping on their drinks.

“I think you’re the first person not to ask me how I feel about the season.” Lando comments, almost shouting over the blaring music.

“I assumed you were bombarded with that question enough.” Gemma responds.

“You said you were happy to abuse the open bar all night. Any reason why?” Lando asks, changing the topic.

“Just got out of a three-year relationship with a guy who hated seeing me drink.” Gemma bluntly answers. “He thought I would get too comfortable with other guys when I drank.”

“So, that’s why you came and sat down next to a stranger in a deserted hallway.” Lando jokes.

“Yeah, well, not all strangers are scary or have bad intentions.” Gemma shrugged.

The minutes pass in a whirlwind of laughter and shared stories as Gemma and Lando engage in a lively conversation, their connection deepening with each passing moment. The ambient hum of the music becomes a backdrop to their animated exchange, the rhythm of the beats creating a vibrant atmosphere around them. The alcohol coursing through their veins acts as a liberating force, allowing them to shed inhibitions and fully immerse themselves in the moment.

Feeling the pull of the music, Lando, with an infectious grin, seizes Gemma's hand, leading her towards the pulsating dancefloor. As they join the rhythmic sway of the crowd, the boundary between them blurs, and the dance becomes a fluid expression of joy and freedom. The cares of the outside world dissipate as they lose themselves in the infectious energy of the music.

Amidst the revelry, the pair remains blissfully unnoticed, the anonymity afforded by the vibrant crowd shielding Lando from the prying eyes of admirers or fans. The freedom to simply be in the moment intensifies their enjoyment as they twirl and move in synchrony, the connection between them growing stronger with each beat.

In a lighthearted moment, Lando, fueled by a mixture of boldness and the euphoria of the night, interrupts Gemma's laughter with a spontaneous and somewhat sloppy kiss. The surprise lingers in the air for a heartbeat before he pulls away, his gaze fixed on her eyes, searching for any signs of reciprocation. The people around them, lost in their own revelry, remain oblivious to this intimate exchange, allowing Gemma and Lando to exist in a world of their own creation.

The ambient lights cast a soft glow on Gemma's face as she meets Lando's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and intrigue. The air between them crackles with a newfound tension, and the sounds of the bustling party fade into the background as they share a moment suspended in time, shielded by the dancefloor's anonymity. The world around them may be alive with energy, but in that moment, it's just the two of them, caught in the enchantment of the music and the unspoken connection they've discovered on the dancefloor.

The pulsating rhythm of the music fades into the background as Gemma, emboldened by the electrifying connection between them, leans in and breathes a whispered request, "Kiss me again." Her voice, a soft and inviting murmur, carries the weight of anticipation as she pulls Lando closer by the nape of his neck.

Lando, captivated by the magnetic pull of the moment, readily complies. Their lips meet once more in a tender collision, a fusion of desire and passion. His arms instinctively snake around her waist, pulling her irresistibly closer, as if unwilling to let go of the enchanting spell they've cast upon each other. The sensation of her body against his intensifies the intimacy of the kiss, creating a cocoon of warmth and connection in the midst of the lively celebration surrounding them.

Gemma's hands cup Lando's face, her touch both gentle and reassuring, as if savouring the reality of the shared moment. The world around them disappears, and they willingly succumb to the allure of the kiss, allowing the currents of emotion to wash over them. Gemma, yielding to the intoxicating dance of lips, willingly falls against him, surrendering to the magnetic force that binds them together.

In this stolen moment, the dance floor becomes their private sanctuary, and the outside world ceases to exist. The whispers of the music, the soft glow of the lights, and the warmth of their embrace form a backdrop to a shared intimacy that transcends the chaos of the celebration. Gemma and Lando, lost in the timeless embrace, create a moment that lingers in the air—a memory woven into the fabric of the night, a secret shared between two souls entwined in the alchemy of a single, exquisite kiss.

“Let’s leave.” Lando suggests when he pulls away from their messy kiss, some of her lipstick plastered on his lips.

“What if you’re a serial killer?” Gemma argues, her lips pouting.

“Oh, now you’re worried about stranger danger.” Lando chuckles, jokingly rolling his eyes.

“Where shall we go?” Gemma wonders.

“My apartment?” Lando suggests, but he poses it more as a question for her to agree to.

“Let’s go then.” Gemma agrees.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Helping Ganyu with her heat!

CW: Male!Qiling!Reader, breeding, cervix stuff.

Under the cut.

Cloud Retainer used to say that inside every living creature there are two beings - the physical and the metaphysical. 

Ganyu heard that when she was barely in her first century. Back then, she heard every single word from her mentor and caretaker without a shadow of doubt. The girl didn't know what Cloud Retainer meant by that at first. She always thought that her mind was in control at all times, and that the physical part was just that - her vessel, the body she was born in. It would not be until her first cycle when she would learn that her body also has a voice, one that causes her to feel strange, unknown things. 

Flushed cheeks. Aching body. Constant feeling of bothersome hotness. A desire. A desire for what - young Ganyu didn't know. She tried many things to make her inner voice shut up. She walked around a lot, most times mindlessly, trying to focus on anything but the disembodied desire inside her. She tried sleeping it off at first, but it soon proved to make things worse. In her dreams Ganyu saw a figure. A fellow Qiling… merging with her? Eating her? She didn't understand… But she somehow knew it was wrong. It was dirty, perhaps the work of some demon? She could tell her caretaker about it, but… the dreams were pleasant. She didn't feel scared or uneasy in them, she always felt safe and loved. By whom? She didn't know. Yet the single detail that stood out was the gold layer of their horns. 

Ganyu forced those thoughts and feelings down, choosing to focus instead on the lessons of Cloud Retainer. Reject the body, embrace the soul, she said. Ganyu listened. 

When she first started working for Rex Lapis, Ganyu finally gained the opportunity to interact with humans and their world. Books caught her attention right away, yet when she opened them, she didn't find the same schematics and philosophies as in the scrolls of the Adepti. She found stories, simple stories. About life, about how it is to be human… about love. That's when Ganyu saw images similar to those in her dreams. It turned out those were not anything like she suspected - it was, in fact, an act of love. And also how children were made. 

When her innocent mind made the connections, she nearly dropped her book in surprise. 

All the time… she had been dreaming… OF THIS?! 

Oh no, what would be if Cloud Retainer found out? She would never hear the end of it! 

But why… why only in autumn and winter did she desire this? Sure, the occasional dream (she learned those were called 'wet dreams', nearly causing a heart attack for the poor girl) was there, but during those months it was especially bad. It also came like a clock, never early and never late. She did more research, and the word 'heat' popped up. 

So… heat. The desire to find a 'male' and 'mate' to get 'offspring'. As much as this description caused her to be extremely flustered (after all, it was so different from the image of love she found in human books and songs), it couldn't be bad… right? If not for it, then there would be no babies, and no babies would mean extinction. 

So it was just the desire to be a mommy, after all. An innocent desire. Such a beautiful motivation, Ganyu thought.

 Just… It made her feel all the more lonely. 

Her dreams got more and more vivid after understanding what it was she felt. The Qiling got a frame - large, muscular, much bigger than hers. Her fantasies usually ended with images of little horned Qiling babies in her hands, so small and precious… She held them in her arms while her waist was enveloped by the strong arms of her lover… But he never had a face. Just the golden horns on his head. 

Until one day. 

She was just sitting on one of the many cliffs of Jeyun Karst, admiring the view and eating her lunch, when she heard footsteps behind her. She rose up quickly, thinking it to be a monster or some lost human. Ganyu was not prepared for what she saw… A person, a man, much taller than her… beautiful, piercing yet kind eyes, well tended hair and those horns… golden-black, shaped just like hers… She was speechless. 

Even now when you remind her about it she gets red in the face. "I have literally met the man of my d-dreams, Y/N! How else was I supposed to react…?" 

It was like a romance novel. Dates, walks, stargazing, handholding, dinners… Laughs and tears, all leading up to the additional set of bedsheets in her house. Cloud Retainer knew you from eons ago, when there was no Liyue Harbor yet. She told Ganyu the story of a traveler and champion, finally coming home. Of course, Cloud Retainer immediately went to ship the two of you, making Ganyu beyond flustered… 

There was no heated interaction aside from kissing for a good while, Ganyu too shy to push you further, you too respectful of her boundaries to initiate. But your whole person , your body, the way you acted towards her, the intimacy of your closeness… they awoke her other self. They roused the other Ganyu from her long slumber. 

She demanded you. She demanded your body, she demanded your attention. She demanded pleasure and offspring. Ganyu tried to fight her primal self, but it proved to be too much really quickly. Her thirst for you was far too intense to push away anymore. She had to act. 

But… How was she supposed to tell you this? That she wanted to do something so dirty with you, something so disrespectful of the Adepti ways… 

—

"I want to… um…" She avoids your gaze, fidgeting with her fingers. She just can't get the words out, it seems. 

Ganyu made a reservation at Xinyue Kiosk earlier (because of the nature of her work she is considered a VIP and has a shorter wait time), expecting her heat to come back soon. The plan was to take you out on a nice romantic evening, and end it with making love, without the need to tell you what she wants directly. 

But it failed. So here she is, attempting to initiate. The itching between her legs is too intense to ignore anymore. She jumps at your every touch, her mouth waters at your incredible, masculine smell, and her thoughts are filled with you, and only you. 

"You want to do what, my love?" You inquire, a sly smile on your face. You know full well what she wants to say, but the opportunity to hear your girl say something so uncharacteristically naughty is not one you are willing to miss. 

"I… there's this… ah, how do I put it… itch… inside me…" She feels like she is going to explode. She needs you, and you are just standing there, unwilling to help her… "I was h-hoping you could help me get rid of it?" 

You nod. "An itch… How can I help you exactly?" 

Ganyu is nearly crying. "Oh no… W-why are you so cruel? I… I…" She swallows, and quickly covers her face with her hands. "I want to have sex with you! P-please! I c-can't hold back anymore!" 

She peeks out from behind her fingers shyly, her big, colorful eyes searching for approval in yours. You step closer, gently securing your hands around her waist. You push her hands away gently, revealing her beet red face. 

Ganyu suddenly raises up on her tiptoes, landing her soft lips on yours. You take her invitation gladly, pressing your own further into her face. Ganyu's tongue constantly pushes yours down, attempting to take control. A hand on her bountiful cheeks makes her jump in surprise, letting you easily regain the lead. You grab her by the wrists, and gently pin her to the closest wall. As you swap spit, Ganyu rubs her legs together, her excitement quickly soaking her expansive panties. 

You both withdraw, out of breath and burning with lust. Ganyu looks you straight in the eyes, but it's not her anymore. The other Ganyu speaks, no shame in her voice this time. 

"I want to make babies with you, please."

You smile, leaning in even closer.

"Of course, Ganyu. I'll give you pretty, healthy Qiling babies with pretty little black and orange horns to match."

In a flash, your clothes land on the floor, bundled and discarded. Ganyu lies on the bed, her small and petite frame pressed down into the mattress by your large, muscular body. Her hands clutch the covers, desperate for any sort of support as you pound her tight womanhood. Her lips are stretched beyond limits to accommodate your entire length. You're too big, but her body doesn't care. It loosens and adjusts, welcoming you deeper with every thrust until you start fucking her very cervix. 

With every strike a filthy wet noise sounds out. She is beyond wet. The mattress gets more and more soaked with her arousal. Her body knows you are her mate, and lubricates her just right for your breeding pleasure. The primal lust possessing her knows that she has to earn her load, so it works hard. It clenches and pulses, sucking you in deeper and milking your cock, diligently earning every drop of dense, white cum full of only the best genes. Ganyu wants your seed, needs it. She moans, whines, cries and squeals at the merciless fucking she is subjected to, drunk on your intense musk and the smell of cock and hard sex floating inside the room. 

This is what she needs. This is what she dreamed of. She understands this just now, in between the hard pounds making her mind go blank. This is not 'making love'. This is fucking. Raw and animalistic and filthy and absolutely lovely. 

She clenches hard and cums for the first time. Her body goes limp, grip relaxing. You slow down, and innocent Ganyu thinks it's over. She cries out when you pull her up into doggy by her sensitive horns. You resume the pounding, masterfully stroking her horns. Her mind is absolutely broken by the joint overstimulation. The only sounds she makes are small gasps of air being forced out of her lungs. Her tongue hangs out and drool drips down her chin. Her eyes roll back into her skull, and she loves it. 

This is her place, she thinks. This is her function, she realizes. To be bred by her mate, pumped full of cum until her little womb is bursting, and then some more for good measure. She creams around your dick again, imagining how cute your babies will look like. 

Ganyu doesn't notice how quickly the time passes. She cannot remember how many times she was pushed up, forced down or picked up that night. She can only remember the sight of cum, sticky and delicious, dripping out of her desperate and swollen pussy. You were both pleased, but not satisfied yet. She does not remember how many times you used the cum as lube for another round, and then another, and another, and then another… Until Ganyu couldn't remember what her name was. What she remembered, however, was your name. She said, screamed and moaned out every vowel of it time and time again in absolute bliss. She forgot about the Adepti and their rules. She didn't care about how filthy and naughty this was. The only thing she could see was the cute little herd of horned children you were putting deep inside her belly…

Poor Ganyu couldn't look you in the eyes without dying of embarrassment for the next day, enough said. How could she even think about those things? Say them out loud? 

That said… she can't wait until next November.

Thanks for reading!

[connieisthesun]

Kisses around Curves (Conrad Fisher x y/n)

Summary - You and Conrad have been in a committed relationship for a while but you're ready to take it to the next level and to live out the true meaning of infinity.

Warnings - Smut, protected sex, oral female receiving, sweet talk, lose of virginity, jealousy, heavy make out: Minors Do Not Interact.

*Authors note* - This is my first time writing smut so excuse me if its a bit vanilla lol but apart from that enjoy and leave any requests for future fics. :)

Tag list - @conradfisherswifesstuff @cheezbot @grxnde-dwt @itsshayfr @lanivoid @calpurnia2002

Comment or heart to be added.

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Infinity was always a recurring motif in yours and Conrad's ever so sweet relationship, no matter the tides and the trues you both battled forward with incessant love for each other. You are unbreakable, untouchable with the bond you possess spanning across distance and lifetimes and yet after a long time you urge to feel the intimate touch of his veiny fingers and his exasperating breath on yours. You wanted him to kiss your curves like he promised to do to the nature of your relationship; infinite.

You sat there in your deserted dormitory with Conrad his eyes ever so sincere and genuine piercing his soul and making you melt. As the holidays were looming your roommate had already left and what better Christmas present than the burning desire of Him. He beckoned you to sit on the half made bed next to him (you couldn't fold a fitted sheet if your life depended on it).

"Y/n, did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you. You paint my darkest sky the brightest blue and I want you to know that I have never loved and cherished a person let alone a girl as beautiful and intellectual as you. I don't know what I did to deserve you but all I can say is that you deserve anything the world can offer, my love"

Touched by his sentiments, you peck his lips ever so slightly tracing your aching mark on him.

"Connie, I have never loved anyone longer and truer than you. It's just that I get slightly envious of other girls, they're so much prettier that I can't seem to think why you even want me."

"I don't just want you I need you, to breathe, to survive, you've helped my overcome so many of my personal battles and needless to say you always look smoking and gorgeous all the time. I have eyes for no-one else but you y/n/n " He said offering a sly smirk.

"What am I saying, I know you can't resist me Fisher!" You teased back. Underneath his smile, still lay the sweet young boy you once met at a cafe, whom memorised your order after 2 seconds of meeting you, you reminisced.

"May I." He winked and seductively whispered.

"Yes of course." You replied before his lips slowly pressed against yours and a feeling of impenetrable warmth overcame your body. You tugged on his hair softly as he gripped your waist with care, your hands serving as a mere barrier from the actions you were about to commit. You parted your mouth before he slid his tongue into yours, dancing to the beat of your longing. You bit on his lip with care and an unholy groan escaped his mouth that you could feel your insides pooling. With his hand massaging your neck and reaching a stray hair across your forehead.

"We should stop" Conrad spoke reluctantly.

"Don't stop Con, as you said I need you and I need you tonight*." You breathed.

"I don't want to pressure you into this, we can take it slow." He replied with utter softness.

"Please continue" You beckoned again as your lips collided like smashing waves. This time the kiss was more passionate and slow as you could feel his tongue trace a heart in your mouth. His hands slowly reached for your top as he began to tug on it with ease, you forgot that Conrad was millenium times more experienced than you in this realm but the didn't matter to you, all that did was the connection and pleasure you experienced.

You open your eyes and slowly unclip your lacy bra, with your breasts unravelling before Conrad like a fountain. Still retaining his respectful demeanour he positioned you to lie down on the bed as he massaged around your nipples. "Do you like that honey." "Mm" was all that could escape from your mouth.

You bucked your pelvis into his as he was still on top of you now sucking on your tits with such affection and desire. You could feel his steamy body heat and your boobs felt like heaven. He gave you a brief kiss before making his way down to your core, pulling down the waistband of your plaid jeans.

A moan escaped your tongue, he grinned at you continuing to lick your areola before positioning himself in between your soaked legs.

"You ready for this y/n/n darling" He looked up at you for approval.

"Of course, Connie baby."

He began stimulating your clitoris, circling figure eights on your centre region. You began to feel a tingling feeling before his veiny fingers began to stroke your insides while simultaneously groping your breasts.

Your breath hitches as he makes a long lick across your vagina, then begins to flick his tongue within you. Kissing your sides, he explored your folds, making them his own. Licking erotically and still pumping his curled fingers into you. You grasp his back muscles, moaning with delight.

"Such pretty sounds, I love it when you moan remember that.He says breaking the silence and turning you on even more than before.

His tongue is now entering and existing your entrance as he continue sto play with your G-spot with his fingers.

"Conrad!" You scream with delight.

"Y/n don't forget we can stop, tell me to take it slower if you want."

"No no, this perfect, your perfect. You say through disgruntled sounds.

He lets go of your vagina and makes his way back up to you, offering you a steamy kiss. He let's you pull of his shirt and pants revealing his perfectly sized penis. You have a radical awakening to have him inside of you.

"Con, please." You mutter urging him.

"Of course, anything for you."

He lines himself up to your entrance and pushes slowly constantly checking in with you to ensure your comfort. You both let out yet another moan as he dominates on top.

He slowly and carefully grinds against you while kissing your neck and ear and gripping your ass. What a multitasker you though to yourself!

You could feel yourself coming to your peak but before that he strokes your labia, causing your stomach to erupt with pleasure. You couldn't take it any longer but wanted to make sure he came too so you enticed him with your seductive voice.

"Conrad, make me your's, fuck me until I can't see straight hon, do me...hard, you know I love you."

"Fuck, don't do that to my y/n " He said as his face flushed red. You could feel him harden inside of you.

He quickened his pace as you buckled your hips against his toned body. The slightly ajared window provided the greatest moonlight which picturesquely painted an incandescent glow around the silhouette of Conrad.

He flips you so you have a chance to ride him, placeing his hands on your hips and a finger in your mouth while groaning your name. You rub fast against his cock and suck on his slender hand. As you do, you lean forward allowing Conrad to grasp your breasts and continue fondling them. Suddenly, you climax with great force simultaneously with him. Feeling the warm semen fill your pussy, you ride your high out together.

He puts you down and plants a kiss on your forehead, offering to watch a movie and cuddle throughout the night.

"I'm glad it was you Connie." You spoke.

"Anything for you y/n, my future, my everything. You and me, we are infinite and I'll gladly kiss your curves for evermore. Unless you want to try out a few other moves later." He said as he winked.

Oh Conrad what would I do without you, you thought as you peacefully fell asleep against his chest.

[madwomansapologist]

Shan Yu obsessed with you would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Personal blog | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: For Shan Yu, it was love at first sight. For you, he was the man that kidnapped you. Oh, young love.

warnings: female!reader. badass!reader. kidnapping. nudity. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020).

• Villages on the border are not usually targeted by the Hun army, as they are mostly built and maintained by the effort of the population itself. They are part of China, but it would take weeks for the Emperor to be updated on the situation of these villages. There's no need to attack them, and it's not useful either. After all, everyone needs to rest. It is an agreement between the army and the city leaders: peace is maintained if they are well received and well fed.

• It was suppossed to be a quick stay. After a long battle, the army needed to eat and rest. And so needed the horses. Soon after, they would continue their journey. After enjoying the feast offered by an inn, Shan Yu decided to ride alone along one of the mountain trails. This battle showed that the Chinese army is well organized, despite being smaller. As tempting as counting victory is, deluding yourself can be a fatal mistake. Shan Yu needed to think, and he needed silence.

• Hours after leaving the inn, a noise caught his attention. A sneeze. And the sound of running water. Shan Yu searched for the source of the sound, comanded by his own curiosity. It was almost like his body was warning him: This is important. He jumped off the horse and followed his ears, finding a lagoon hidden by ash trees. It's water was dark because of the stone banks, filled with a few carps and low vegetation. Then you emerged.

• Shan Yu almost fall into the lagoon. He never thought he had weak legs, but they were shaking. He couldn't feel knees, but he did feel his heart. It was aching. Like something sharp hold onto it. It was such a hurting feeling, but he never want to not feel it. Because he knows exactly what this mean. Shan Yu just fell in love.

• He saw you whole. Reflecting the moon, water falling down your body, he saw every inch of your skin. Your curves, your beauty, your smile. Your scars, your freckles, your marks. Shan Yu saw your body, but also saw your soul. The way you moved into the water, having fun, even tho you were shivering. It was so, so cold. But you didn't mind. You wanted to swin, so you did it.

• You were brave. Certain about your desires. Resistent. And your laugh... That sound was deserving of a thousand praises. People should give their lifes for the chance of hearing you. Of seeing you. Of being near you. And it would be a pleasure. A small price for such a great gift.

• Then you sneezed. And again. And again.

• Shan Tu quickly notice your clothes stretched on a rock. It appeared to be made from a nice tissue, but he couldn't let you wear something like that. So he came out from among the trees.

• You got scared. Who wouldn't? Even if you didn't knew who he was, you probably heard about him, a man appearing out of nowhere is really frightful. You dived up to your chin, on a attempt of covering your body, and walked away from him. Even scared you were the most beautiful thing he ever saw.

• Shan Yu was glad the inn offered him a bath before the feast. His mustachioed was trimmed, his hair combed, his skin cleaned. You couldn't look away, did you notice his yellow eyes? Did you like it? Shan Yu hopes you does.

• Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he took his wolf fur coat and left it among your clothes.

"Do not approach!" You yelled at him, thinking he was undressing to join you. "I'm warning you: I can fight."

Shan Yu chuckled. If he wasn't sure before, now he knows that you were made to be his. You were deciding between running or fighting, but he turned away. "What the hell," you said to yourself.

Walking back to his horse, Shan Yu did his speciality: he planned.

• The stay was extended. Shan Yu ordered his best warriors to watch you. To discover who you were, where you live, what you do. To make sure you would always be safe. Within days, he already knew your routine, your family, your name. And as time went by, Shan Yu decided to act.

It was a quiet night. Snow started to fall, no more travelers for some good months. After spending the day helping your mother keep the house clean and teaching one of your younger friends how to cook a congee, all you wanted was to sleep. And so you did.

But you woke up with breaking glass noise. You jumped out of bed immediately. And when you noticed the silence, you thought you just had a realist nightmare. You lay backdown, snuggling under the sheets, and closed your eyes to sleep again... and someone pulled you by the feet.

You couldn't see who was hurting you, all candles were out, but you felt it's tight grip around your ankles. You felt on the floor, your neck started to burn, the person pulling while you screamed. You bet he didn't think you would react, 'cuz on the moment you had a chance you kicked the man so hard he fell back. Then you kicked his head, putting him to sleep.

You runned to your parents room to get them out of here, but it wasn't a solo job. Three big man guarded the corridor. Moonlit, you noticed that nothing was damaged. That wasn't just a robbery.

"Touch me," you smiled at then, sure they would see it. After tucking a lock behind your ear, you positioned yourself to fight. "And I will beat the shit out of you."

All you remember after was the sound of bones breaking, blood gushing from noses, screams of pain. They tried to get you, but you always knew how to protect yourself. "I've warned you."

You managed to open your parents' bedroom door, and found them gagged on the bed. As brave as you were, you knew you couldn't release them and defend you three. "I'll be back," you promised. Hearing the sound of people entering your house, you opened the bedroom window. "And with help."

And then you jumped.

Barefoot in the snow, you had only one goal: to reach the bell on the wall between the houses. It is only used in emergencies, its ring is almost an announcement of calamities. No one would ignore it.

You just didn't count that more than five men guarded the perimeter of your house. Now it was clear that the Hun army was attacking you, although you didn't understand why. There was only one thing left to do: run.

You managed to contain them, after all that was the land of your house. You knew where every hole, stone, obstacle was.

Climbing the ladder that connects the walls, there was so little left for you to reach the wire and show everyone what was happening. But your foot was pulled, and you landed hard on the floor.

Breathing was difficult. It burned. It was like someone muzzled your chest and asked you to take a deep breath. It hurt so much that you couldn't protect yourself as they lifted you off the ground, pushing you towards something.

When you started to get used to the pain, you tried to run. But someone grabbed your shoulder and kept you still. After a few seconds, you heard steps. The gate of your house was opened, and your blurry vision couldn't focus on the man marchingon your direction. Less than a minute felt like a decade.

"Who hurted her?" A deep, eery voice asked.

As he come closer, you reconized him. The man that handed you his coat on the most creepy way possible. Now, looking closer and without water on your eyelashes, you understood who he really was. And that scared the shit out of you.

A eagle landed on his broad arm. He was armed, but even if he wasn't it would still give you the creeps. He looked like a predator. A big cat ready to attack. He lived up to his fame. That makes you a prey? Shan Yu was looking at you, and you didn't know if he was the last thing you will ever see.

Whoever was holding you decided to let you go. Shan Yu got closer, but you didn't step back. You wanted to, but didn't. If he want something from you, than he better undestand that you will never submit.

"I'm not hurt." It was a lie, but it wasn't just thay. It was you challenging him. "What do you want from me?"

Shan Yu smiled. He wasn't that close to you, but he made you feel so small. It's impossible to look at Shan Yu without feeling weak. "Are you always that brave?"

"That's me being reasonable" you answered. "In order to be brave I would need to be scared. What do you want from me?"

"Your heart." He took a step back. "Care to join me?'

You did, but you also didn't have an option.

Shan Yu led you to his legion. Surrounded by silence, you saw when the four man stepped out of your house. You didn't know what to do or what to expect, but there was something more important then your future. "Did you kill my parents?"

"No." Shan Yu was succinct. "I ordered them to bring you to me, not to hurt you. They will be punished. I promise you."

"I'm not hurt", it was all you were able to say.

Shan Yu sighed. "You can fight, but you can't lie."

After walking for a few minutes, you saw the Hun army. And they were ready to travel again. Thousands of them ready to invade China.

Your parents are safe. If you run, you can go back to your village and warn them about what happened. You could've try, but you didn't.

What they would do? Fight a whole army because one family was attacked? You wouldn't start a war that you know you can't win. You can fight, but not like the Huns. They just didn't expect you to fight back, but they are bigger and stronger than you could ever be.

"You need to rest", Shan Yu woke you up from your thoughts. You noticed that those other men following you weren't there anymore. Your bravery faded away little by little. "Come here."

You could see now where he is walking you. Compared to the others, it was the biggest carriage. The prettiest. It was long, driven by ten horses, made for sleeping. Shan Yu was leading you to his carriage, and that made you want to vomit.

Shan Yu opened the door, and gestured for you to come in. You stepped back. "I won't be your whore."

He frozed. If you have paid attention, you would've noticed the pain in his eyes. But you didn't. "You won't. I would never do this."

"Don't lie to me!"

"I've told you the truth." Shan Yu licked his lips. He never felt so scared. He would... he would never do that. "I will only touch you if you want me to."

"You kidnapped me!" You shout at him. "You hurted me. You hurted my family. Why would I ever believe on what you said?"

Shan Yu moved foward to you. He bent over, looking at you from your height. "I will give you China as a dowry."

You stumbled back. "What did you said?"

"You will be my Empress." Shan Yu smiled at your response. "My heart is yours. I will wait, don't matter how long it takes, for your reciprocal. So please, rest."

You didn't knew how to react. His face, so close to yours, made you swallow hard. It makes no sense. Why would he do that? You ain't a noble or rich or anything like that. That must be a lie. But why would he bother lying?

You walked past him, completely unsure of what to do. You ignored his eyes, scared to see that he speaks the true. Now your surprise was greater than your fear. This can only be a very weird dream. You pinched yourself, but nothing happened.

Inside the carriage, you realized that everything was actually... beautiful. You'd think an army would have no room for beauty, but Shan Yu's gigantic room proved otherwise. Intricately finished wooden tables with maps and plans, sheets of warm, hard-to-sew fabrics, gold religious items. Everything was beautiful. And probably more expensive than your house and everything in it.

Shan Yu closed the door. It wasn't a quiet night anymore.

• You woke up to footsteps in the carriage. You don't remember falling asleep, but at some point you did. It was cold, you were tired, and it was such a comfortable bed. When you got up, you saw people arranging chests in the center of the room. A lady placed a tray on the table, the food on it looked delicious. They were all just smiles for you, a warm feeling almost didn't take over your body.

• Those trunks had your new clothes. Appropriate clothing for cold weather and long trips. It wasn't a dream. No, it really wasn't. Shan Yu is... in love with you? What a weird kind of love. He really chose to kidnap you rather to talk with you? If feels like a story from a fantasy book, not something actually happening on your life.

• But Shan Yu is honorable. Somehow. You saw him fighting: Shan Yu seens to be joking with others life. Sometimes he allows his enemies to have some kind of advantage, just so he can win in a more humiliating way. But he never touched you. Or disrespcted you. Or let anyone treat you badly. And he also care for his army, for his people. So, yeah, honorable. Somehow.

• Shan Yu slept in the same carriage, after all it was his carriage, but not in the same bed. It was strange, but he said he wouldn't leave you alone at such a vulnerable time. You laugh about it, saying that he wouldn't be able to protect you or anything like that if he was sleeping. That very same night, when you both slept together for the first time, you woke up because of the horses. Within a second, Shan Yu was awake, asking if something had happened. Light sleeper: you will be safe.

• You participated in discussions about strategy. And always sitting next to him. One of his trusted men explained the vocabulary you didn't know. Shan Yu insisted for you to be there. Whether it's battle strategy, discussions about money, meetings with the different troops, mapping the path: Shan Yu wanted you there, paying attention and learning.

Riding down the montain on the sorrel he let you choose, Shan Yu was particularly relaxed. "Who taught you how to fight?"

You were also feeling just fine. The weather was mild, the sun warmed you, and riding had finally become second nature. The night before they held a feast in celebration of the end, and victory, of a battle.

"I was an angressive child, and my grandpa always taught me everything he knew." You smiled, but it was a little bit sad. You miss him a lot. "But I don't really know how to fight. I just hit where it hurts, and then I run as fast as I can."

Shan Yu guffaw. "That strategy is... not enterily wrong." His words were positive, but Shan Yu didn't notice he shook his head. You did. "I can teach you."

"Do you have time for that?" Soon your honest question turned into a joke. "Because I can beat you ass anytime."

As time went on, you kind of forgot that you were angry with him. Shan Yu was surprisingly a good listener. And even his coldness could be funny. And he was honest. Never hurted you or forced you to do anything. You don't love him, but you understood your life beside him would be interesting.

You've learned about war, economics, you can tell what each officer in the army does, and you've learned a thing or two about Huns history. Much more interesting than cooking, cleaning and going out to do something that, deep down, was just a way to make yourself more attractive to a good husband. This was no longer a concern. You could be stubborn, annoying, angry, petty: but you don't have to behave to attract a man's gaze. You could just exist, and it was enough for him. It is... liberating. You miss your family and friends, you miss them so much it hurts, but it's not all bad.

"I will take that as a yes."

• The storm changed everything. It was impossible to set a camp down. Shan Yu was leading his army, as he always will, but not even a man strong as him can defeat nature. In a few days with the cold water giving him no time to rest or eat, everyone around Shan Yu could see that he was sick. But he didn't admit it. Saying that he was just fine, he continued to lead the troops.

• His determined nature didn't allow him to rest, but his body couldn't take anymore: he fell of the horse. Shan Yu was treated with the finest medicines, but he didn't woke up. Didn't even move a finger. You stood beside him the whole day, and when the moonlit touched your skin... You were shaking.

• How could he done that to you? Everytime you went out he made you go back to the carriage so you wouldn't get sick. How could he not care about himself the same way? How could he get so hurt without allowing anyone to help him? Shan Yu is a liar. He told you he would never hurt you, but look what he did to you! You can't breath, you can't think, you can't even look at him without feeling that your chest is about to explode. How dare him lie to you?

• Crying, you lay down next to him. You tucked your head onto the chest that moved slowly with shallow breathing, and hugged his broad waist. Your fingers drew disjointed shapes on the boiling skin, your lips murmured prayers to all the gods and ancestors who could hear you. You just wanted a sign that everything was going to be okay. And muttering prayers as you caressed his skin, you fell asleep.

• You woke up to a caress at the small of your back. Your mind took a while to understand what was happening, but as soon as you opened your eyes and saw him, everything ceased to matter. Shan Yu was awake. And he smiling.

"When did you woke up?" You tried to sit down, but his arm around your waist didn't let you. "You need to eat. I gonna call the maesters. How are you feeling? Why didn't you woke me up?!"

"Calm down", his weak voice almost broke your heart, but his tone showed you that Shan Yu was back. "Stay this way. Just a little longer."

"Do you know how scared I was?" You feel like you were about to cry, so you didn't look into his eyes. "Let me go. Let me help you."

"You've never touched me." Shan Yu caressed your cheek, tucking a strand behind your ear. It was so intimate, it made your stomach ache. But it wasn't a bad thing. "You're warm. And soft. And you smell like tears."

"I thought you..." You couldn't say the words. "You didn't react to anything. I thought you were about to die."

"I would have come back to you." His fingers slid to your chin. A delicate touch, too delicate for someone so rough, made you look into his eyes. "I would crawl out of my grave. Not even death can put us apart."

"I missed you." You admited. "I missed you so much. How terrible it is to love something death can touch."

"You love me?" Shan Yu didn't gave you time to answer. "Love me." It wasn't a demand. Shan Yu wasn't ordering. He was begging. "Please."

"I have your heart." You got closer to him. "And you have mine. Don't break it."

"I wouldn't dare."

Next part!

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[chiqelatasblog]

The Moon is Beautiful, isn’t it? 🌕

->Ao3 link is here.

-> This one-shot is the part of 'The Savior Series.' Here is the first part.

Pairings: Bi-Han/Sub-Zero x Reader, Kuai Liang/Scorpionx Reader, Tomas Vrbada/Smoke x Reader

Tropes: Love Confessions, Falling in love, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Polyamory

Summary: In which you fall first, but they fall harder. How Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Bi-Han each realize they’ve fallen in love with you and express their feelings in their own ways.

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TOMAS

He was the first to fall for you, and it didn't surprise him at all. What did surprise him was how quickly it happened, yet it felt so natural, safe, and warm.

He was captivated by your gentleness from the beginning. Even though you were clearly afraid of them, you didn’t hesitate to make them comfortable in your home, ensuring everyone was well-fed and had a place to sleep. You were brave and so genuine in everything you did that it was impossible not to fall for you.

You always had a certain expression on your face when you gazed at them, thinking no one noticed; it was not pity but a deep, raw sadness that made Tomas’s heart ache. You were clearly angry and sad on their behalf, especially as you started to learn about their past and let down your guard as you got used to them.

It was late one night when Tomas clearly felt he had fallen deeply in love. You were fast asleep on the kitchen counter, surrounded by open books. Some of the notes you had taken had fallen to the floor, with Ninja sleeping on top of them. Your head rested on your crossed arms to make yourself a bit more comfortable, though Tomas was sure you were not. Your neck must have been in a lot of pain. Your lips were slightly ajar, your breathing came out in deep puffs, your chest slowly rising with each breath. Some of the ink from the notes was smeared on your left cheek. You looked achingly sweet, adorable, and innocent.

Tomas approached you slowly, not wanting to wake you. He glanced at the books you were reading; one and a half months had passed, but you were still looking for solutions to break the curse. This week you had gone to the city center, which had a huge library, hoping to find more books about the curse and maybe a solution to break it. You were so full of hope and light that it also made Tomas start to believe.

Your presence felt familiar, like the warmth he once shared with his family before their tragic end. It was as though you emerged from a past he had long buried, stirring memories buried deep within. He sensed a connection to you that transcended explanation, as if his soul recognized yours before his mind could comprehend it. This inexplicable familiarity felt both unsettling and comforting, like rediscovering a forgotten part of himself.

Though he might seem more harmless compared to his brothers with his easygoing demeanor, Tomas had learned survival instincts from a young age, navigating life's dangers with caution. Always on guard, he trusted few beyond his family circle. Lingering emotions from his past remained, deeply ingrained within him. Yet, in your presence, his defenses softened, his body responding instinctively to your calming influence. The tension that had once consumed him ebbed away, leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable yet inexplicably at ease.

When he reached out to take you into his arms and put you in your bed to ensure you had a nice sleep, you easily snuggled against his chest. A small, ghostly smile appeared on your face as you softly said his name in your sleep. Tomas's heart throbbed. Here you were, in his arms, most vulnerable while sleeping and subconsciously calling out his name, recognizing him even in your deep sleep. How could Tomas not fall for you?

As he carefully carried you to your bedroom, not wanting to wake you, Ninja followed. He laid you on the bed and then lay beside you, pulling the cover over both of you. The kitten settled at your foot with a soft yawn, its tiny form curling up in a ball.

“I love you,” Tomas said, his voice as soft as the night itself, carrying in a whisper. His lips brushed your temple gently. You stirred a little, then snuggled against him, your face hidden beneath his neck, and Tomas could feel your smile against his skin. You also whispered softly, “I love you too.”

KUAI LIANG

It was one afternoon when you took a walk in the park and showed him the chubby squirrel named ‘Theodore’ that Kuai Liang realized he had fallen in love with you.

Under the orange rays of the sun, you looked beautiful, your cheeks slightly flushed as you gave the squirrel some nuts and encouraged him to do the same. Kuai Liang kneeled beside you, his gaze fixed upon you, and as you noticed him, you turned to meet his eyes.

Kuai Liang could hear the joyful voices of children playing frisbee a little away from them, birds chirping under the tree they were sitting at the base of. The air was warm but not too hot to sweat, and a gentle breeze surrounded them. It was peaceful and incredibly calming, a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He breathed in the fresh air, the smell of grass and flowers filling him, the tension his body had carried for years ebbing away.

You were an easy person to warm up to, always sweet and brave. Not many people could stand up straight in their presence, knowing they were deadly assassins and, if not for the book’s protection, could take a life within a heartbeat. But you weren’t someone Kuai Liang wanted to hurt. The thought of your blood on his hands made him sick and furious. No, he wanted to protect you, to shield you from any harm.

You deserved to be treated gently, always gently, since you did nothing but shower them with kindness. Kuai Liang had learned to act as people reached out to him; he would do the same in return. But for you, he wanted much more than just being on the same page. You were compassionate to him and his brothers, even though Bi-Han did nothing but hurt you with his words and rudeness. You still acted with kindness, quietly understanding why he behaved that way, keeping your distance and giving him his space.

You never gave them any orders. Not once, not even to test if the curse was really working. You just let them be. Kuai Liang didn’t know what freedom felt like after ten years of imprisonment. This wasn’t exactly freedom, but it was better than nothing and felt like heaven compared to the hell they had been through. It also gave him a better perspective to watch you and understand you. What he learned was that you were genuine, with no masks to hide your thoughts or emotions. You were open to them, with a golden heart, taking in the kitten you found on the street even though you had no income at the moment while also trying to take care of them. And you didn’t want anything in return, just their happiness, Kuai Liang noticed lately.

So it didn’t surprise him when he realized he had fallen for you, as he took stock of his own feelings. He was always a bridge between his brothers, and even though he was warmer than Bi-Han in his approach, because of his destructive fire power he kept his heart well guarded.

Until he kissed you on that couch after his nightmare. After you cried on his behalf and hugged him, always giving him space and control to act as he liked.

Until now.

As he looked at you, it came to him like a gentle wave.

“I love you,” he said. Your eyes literally sparkled, a soft smile appearing on your beautiful face as you responded with the same words. Kuai Liang couldn’t help but smile as well and reached to kiss you, his body burning with a protective fire, wanting to hold you in his arms and keep you close in this perfect moment.

BI-HAN

Bi-Han didn’t know he was in love with you until he realized he was about to lose you. He was ready to spill blood for you—it didn’t even matter whose. He was ready to kill Liu Kang if needed. All he wanted was to save you. He didn’t care about the curse; after ten years of obsessing over how to break it, all that mattered now was your life. If your life was needed to break the curse, then he didn’t want that. He could live with the curse as he had in the past years, but losing you? No.

So when Liu Kang stabbed you, Bi-Han saw red. His vision went hazy, all his focus on you as you stood there, looking strong for them, trying to be brave as you always did and smiling at them. It was a smile full of pain and sadness that made his heart clench painfully, his breath caught in his throat.

He was so angry, furious at the injustice inflicted on them, furious that you took this decision without telling them, furious that he had to witness this and do nothing in return. He roared, cursed at the Fire God, and punched the invisible wall that kept him from reaching you.

He could feel the curse lifting. The heavy pressure on him, which had become second nature as he got used to it, was finally lifting. But in return, he was also losing you. He wanted the fucking curse back.

When Liu Kang caught you before you collapsed to the ground, the invisible force lifted. Bi-Han wasted no time, sprinted to you, and attacked Liu Kang with all the feelings raging inside him. But Liu Kang easily caught his fist, covered with sharp ice, and looked up at him. “I can save her.”

Bi-Han breathed deeply, not knowing what to do with all the feelings hurling inside of him. His fists ached and twitched as he still wanted to spill blood. He didn’t know how to deal with any of this. But his logic came to him easily, realizing that Liu Kang could save you. So he let him be. Liu Kang quickly kneeled before you, and Bi-Han watched him, angrily saying how he was going to make your life a living hell after all you had done. You scared him shitless, and that was a new achievement no one had accomplished in his lifetime.

Like time being rewound, Liu Kang’s blue-orange flames covered your lifeless pale body gently and pool of blood returned to you just like nothing had happened. The Fire God spoke of you resting for a while, but his words fell on deaf ears as Bi-Han crouched to cradle your limp body in his arms, his focus solely on you. He didn’t realize he hadn’t been breathing until he could finally touch you and took a deep breath. His body was still trembling with adrenaline surging through his veins, all too cold and rigid, but holding you helped him calm down. He didn’t care about anything at that moment; you were what was important to him.

He once regarded feelings as useless, akin to shackles that bound him and made him vulnerable to exploitation by his enemies. Emotions were something he didn’t want to deal with; he didn’t believe he had the time for them. His clan always came first, before anything else, even before himself. Whatever was deemed important for his clan, he would do in a second. Lin Kuei was his pride and honor, and the responsibility for its future rested heavily on his shoulders as Grandmaster. But now, as he held you, his beliefs began to shift.

Yes, you were his weakness, but also his wellspring of power. His recent actions were the ultimate testament to his feelings. He yearned to become stronger and more powerful, solely to ensure he could always protect you, never wanting to fail you like he had today. He had never considered himself capable of loving another person; he had always viewed himself as too cold, harsh, and emotionless. Yet, as he gazed at you now, he knew without a doubt that he loved you.

He desired to be gentle, especially for you, so he could hold you without causing any harm. He wanted to offer you a sanctuary, just like he did for his brothers, a fortress where you could seek refuge and trust that he would shield you from anything. You were the kind of person he was willing to put his life in danger for. He was willing to kill and die for you, and it no longer surprised him that he had come to this conclusion.

As he watched you slipping away before his eyes, he felt as though he was losing control of his mind and body. He understood the danger of becoming so deeply attached to another person, especially as an assassin and as a grandmaster where from a very early age he was taught to put his clan first above all else. But for the first time in his life, he found himself unable to tame his emotions.

‘I love you’ he whispered in his mind. He wasn’t ready to voice it out loud yet, but he was sure you would feel it from now on.

………

Author’s Note; Hello, the third part of the series is out now! If you’re interested here is the link. I'll post it here sometime later💕

[slitheringghost]

Voldemort Fic Recs, Part 2

Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

colours by @allthepeculiarthings (900 words, T)

Rec: A beautiful Tom character study, and I love the detail of Merope's green shawl.

It was Mrs Cole, herself only a young girl at the time, who had thought to take his mother’s shawl from around her shoulders, and bundle him in it instead. His mother, after all, would have had no use for it, resting under a few feet of soft earth. It was a frayed and ragged thing, and the green dye of the crocheted wool faded further and further into the dangerous territory of grey each year, but Tom clung to it nevertheless. His shawl, his name, and his life – he clung onto all he had inherited from his mother like a starved dog guarding its last meal.

time turns and tells them by @slashmarks (Tom & Abraxas, 1.4k, T)

Rec: The most fascinating version of how the Death Eater cult started - from a Tom that never really planned on it or on becoming Voldemort.

Hogwarts uniforms were a great class leveler as long as you were a student. Afterward, of course, the Wizarding World sorted most of the upstarts straight back out. Tom hadn’t needed to be sorted, being the best and brightest, except that he would have gone out buggering a lethifold before he resigned himself to pushing papers at a Ministry desk to buy first generation class privilege without even the paltry efficiency of doing it with a fountain pen instead of a quill. Magic in Britain, he had long ago concluded, was wasted on the magical. They had no imaginations at all. - Abraxas was the only one of his friends he’d let keep calling him Tom at school, less as a sign of intimacy and more because ‘Voldemort’ was terminally wasted on him. Abraxas’s great gift for amoral calculation was marred only by a dire lack of romance in his soul. But he was also the only friend Tom still saw regularly, have retired the Voldemort character when he no longer needed to keep a dorm full of pureblood morons in line.

a learning experience by @laeveteinn (Tom/Hepzibah, 9k, T)

Rec: I love Tom's voice and characterization in this, with an unexpected twist on Hepzibah Smith.

“Tom, my boy,” Slughorn exclaims, all well-meaning, smothering concern, “you can’t work at Borgin and Burkes!” This, naturally, is the moment Tom decides he will.  (He learns that his disdain for boundaries extends far past the realm of magic.)

the tiger’s lady by slashmarks (Bellatrix/Voldemort, 4.8k, T)

Rec: A Voldemort tells Bellatrix about Merope fic. The portrayal of cyclical violence will make you ache, with Bellamort playing out Merope's past. I requested this; you can request fic from slashmarks in return for a pro-choice donation here.

“My Bella," he said, softly and directly into the back of her neck. She had missed this, or else it had come suddenly, this switch into the most dangerous of his moods. "You lie very well and very often, do you not?" She didn't know what to say, but the words came out on their own, responding to a lifetime of instincts built for just this sort of situation – when saying the wrong thing was better than saying nothing at all. "My lord knows I am a Black... And generally appreciates it." She felt him tense behind her, and for a moment she expected him to fling her into the hot stove, but instead he moved back, and he was laughing – a real, sincere laugh, a sign of genuine relaxation, and her shoulders also relaxed

The Pleiades by @saintsenara (Bellatrix/Voldemort, 2.8k, T)

Rec: Beautifully written, another version of Bellatrix and her finding strength in Merope that makes me ache.

But she could still see, as she hugged herself for warmth, the seven sisters engaged in their celestial Quidditch match. She muttered their names each night like a prayer. Alcyone Maia Sterope Taygeta Celaeno Electra Merope - ‘Do you like Quidditch?’ she asked the Dark Lord, as she levitated a coffee tray into the study. He didn’t look up from the wanted posters of himself he was inspecting at Mr Lestrange’s desk. ‘No.’ This didn’t surprise her. For all his magic, so strong that it seemed to roll off him like the waves which could be heard from the open window, there was a brittleness about the Dark Lord which made it unlikely that anyone would describe him as sporty. A healthy whack from a bludger would probably snap him clean in two.

Still Water by deslea (Bellatrix/Voldemort, Bellatrix/Rodolphus, 2.2k, M)

Rec: A post-Azkaban Bellatrix fic with an equally heartwarming Belladolphus and Bellamort.

"Show me," she said. Just that. He frowned for a moment, but then, he nodded, and then images and impressions exploded in her mind. His near-annihilation, and the struggle that followed. His boundless, relentless will to live, to find a way. To find a way back. Years alone with his own mind, with no other input to sustain him. He'd reflected and re-reflected on himself, his life, his nature, until it was like eating himself alive. And then, finally, rebuilding himself, cell upon cell, bone upon bone, skin upon muscle. To her, his body before her seemed like a work of art, the work of a great creator. That he was still himself seemed a miracle.

stray shard of soul by Laeveteinn (Tom & Delphini, 100 words, T)

Rec: An excellent Dadmort mini fic.

He hates this child’s screaming. It jangles long-numb nerves, and he considers igniting her crib. (Old habit.) But when he considers another harming her, some faceless enemy, he burns. He’d incinerate them. Next, the world.

[dd122004dd]

Broken & Betrothed

So, this is in response to a post I had made asking if ya'll would read a past life Ardeth Bay fic, well, it's finally here, part 1 of it. Hope ya'll enjoy it and so sorry for the wait. Summary: She is the sister of Nefertari and in love with her private guard but its forbidden and so they have to hide their relationship but her father, the pharaoh has betrothed her to another, so with a heavy heart she has to tell her lover that her father has betrothed her to someone else

Warnings: Angst, Heart break, Part 2 (THE HORROR!!!)

Part 2

The young Medjai strode across the alabaster stone floors. His footsteps were precise and silent. A pair of daggers attached to his hip glistened in the moonlight as he traced his way through the palace. Hidden by the shadows he moved swiftly, a destination in his mind as he entered her chamber.

She stood at her balcony, her hair shimmering in the dark as she gazed at the night sky.

‘The moon is a gift from Khonsu’, she told him once, ‘it guides travelers across Kek’s darkness.’ Silently he had motioned her to continue as he kissed her shoulder gently, ‘I wish I was a traveler; I wish I could see all the beautiful places I hear about. I want to see where the luxurious clothes I wear come from, I want to know how their strings are woven together, to see color bleed into their very strands. I want to know where the jewels I’m adorned with come from, where the spices on my tongue are grown, but most of all I want to see your hometown, the place where you grew up, the place you recall with such fondness in your eyes.’ That night he held her as she told him of her dreams, knowing that her duty, her royal blood bound her to her gilded cage.

Gazing at her his heart ached as she hummed a soft tune, it was a familiar tune, one he’d heard multiple times when the priestesses of Hathor worshipped her. Lost in her voice, he continued gazing at her, his limbs softly swaying with her voice, the jangle of his daggers accompanying her voice to form a symphony unheard of before.

Slowly the song dwindled into a comforting silence, the pair basking in it as if afraid to break this moment of comfort. “Will you simply stand there, Ardeth?” she finally asked, breaking the silence. “What would you command of me, Princess? I am but your servant.”

“Princess? You haven’t called me that in a long time.” She said sadly as she turned to look at him.

“I’m afraid it is time I start addressing you by your title, Princess. I have been remiss in my duties and have allowed myself to become too familiar with the one I was destined to serve.” He said formally, trying to distance himself, trying to hold himself back from comforting his lover.

“You’ve heard.” She stated simply, realizing why he was so distant that night.

“You are betrothed,” he stated monotonously as the very words he mumbled ripped his heart apart yet he held out hope that she’d reject his allegation, that she’d take him in her arms and strip away his doubts.

“Yes,” she shakily said as tears welled in her eyes. Stepping forward she reached out to him, silently begging for comfort. Despite his own bleeding heart, he enveloped her within his arms as she shook from the force of her sobs. He hugged her closer as though he wanted to merge her into himself, as though if he held her close enough, she wouldn’t be ripped apart from him, as though his arms could protect her from the hands of the Pharoah, from her father, from her fate.

Tears dripped down his face as the pair sank to the floor, clutching onto each other as if, if they’d let go for even a moment the strong currents of the Nile would part them. In that moment he cursed the gods, wondering why they’d let such pain befall an innocent such as her, wondering why they’d make him pay for his countless sins by putting her through so much pain. For many nights they had laid together, falling deeper into each other till their very souls melded into one, till even the blood within their veins was shared, their bodies and minds now one. They had prayed to Hathor, the goddess of love, to never separate them, yet the coy goddess refused their prayers. Rather, she made them love each other only to have it ripped apart before their very eyes.

Perhaps the most painful thing about this was that both of them were alive, for what was more torturous than seeing your beloved in the arms of another when all they crave is your arms around them?

“I-I don’t want t-to marry-y him, A-Ardeth,” she said, hiccupping. “I can’t.”

“It is your duty and your Pharaoh’s decree,” he said, hating the words coming from his mouth with a burning passion.

“You’d rather me marry someone else? Someone who’s not you?” She asked, feeling hurt at his complacency as she rose to her feet, anger and hurt radiating from her body. Staring at him through reddened eyes she cradled herself in an attempt to comfort herself.

Feeling her rip herself apart from him, the dam holding back his emotions burst as he desperately crawled towards her and wrapped his arms around her hips. Burying his face against her soft stomach he wept bitterly. He pulled her closer as she wrapped her arm around his head, slowly soothing him as she brushed her fingers through his onyx locks.

He looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes as desperation filled his gaze, “I’d rather you lived in the arms of another man than be buried alive within my embrace.”

“I’d rather enter the afterlife bound to you than separated from you.”

“Do you not see you are my very reason to breathe?” he asked desperately.

“Do you not see, without you, I cannot live? You are my reason to live. To survive. To fight,” she stated with conviction.

“I cannot and will not sacrifice your safety, My Princess. In this life or the after-life.” He stated, rising to his feet as his eyes tried to convey his emotions.

“So, you’d rather see me in the arms of another man? Some pompous King from a distant land?”

“I’d rather see you alive and unhappy than dead,” he stated with finality as he walked away from the love of his life. His chest felt void with every step he took away from her, refusing to look back for if he did, he knew his resolve would crumble and he’d try to run away with her, consequences be damned. Yet, deep down even he knew that she did not deserve a life of hardship and that was the only life he could promise her.

“Don’t you see? I’d rather spend my afterlife in your arms than be bound to a marriage I detest, in this life and the next.” She whispered to an empty room, her knees tucked under her chin as she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to shield herself from the growing emptiness in her chest.

~

Weddings were an exciting affair. They were supposed to be a happy affair, commencing with a feast at the bride’s home before she departed with the wedding gifts to live with her husband as his wife. It was a period of excitement where families came together to celebrate, it was supposed to be a time of happiness yet she couldn’t seem to muster a spark of joy within her soul.

In public she played the role of the perfect princess, the beautiful blushing bride yet with every smile, with every chuckle, with every compliment she got she felt like crying, like ripping her jewels off and baring her soul for everyone to see. She desired to bare her heart to the world, to show everyone who’s name was truly carved into her heart, yet she could not. He left her, refused to fight for her, for them.

He had been avoiding her. He had traded shifts with another guard till one day she awoke to a new personal guard. On inquiring about the change, the new guard, Naten, told her that Ardeth had requested the change. Whenever she saw him lurking in the corridors he simply walked away, pretending she didn’t exist. Perhaps that’s what hurt more than being apart from him. His refusal to acknowledge her.

During the day she was a blushing bride, but at night she grieved the living lover she lost. Her mournful cries merged with the wails of widows along the streets of the city. Unheard and unseen she shed her tears till finally one day someone saw. It was her sister, Nefertiri, who found her nestled on her windowsill with her knees tucked against her chest. She gazed at the moon once again, but this time she sung a mournful tune. Trails of kohl long-dried on her face as she sniffled.

“Sister?”

“Nefertiri?” she asked, startled by her appearance.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.”

“Don’t take me for a fool. Tell me. What has caused you so much pain?”

“Nothing, Nefertiri. Just leave it alone.”

“I cannot, you are my sister and it’s my duty to protect you,” she said, staring into her sister’s eyes with sincerity. She snorted at that word again, duty, the very thing that doomed her.

Looking into Nefertiri’s eyes, tears welled in her own as she cuddled into her sister’s nostalgic embrace, a reminiscent of when she used to comfort her when they were children. Her sister gently hushed her, slowly rocking her back and forth as she cried.

Hours passed by as the night slowly dwindled into day and Ra’s boat, Mandjet, came forth from the underworld. It was then she finally confessed, unburdening herself of the burden she carried. She poured her heart out to her sister about the lover she was tragically torn apart from.

Her sister could only look at her in sympathy, knowing that their father’s word was law and that she would not be able to help her. All she could do was offer her comfort. For the first time the powerful princess, Nefertiri, Lily of the Nile and wielder of the spear of Shapneh was helpless, she couldn’t do anything to interfere in her sister’s fate so she simply offered her comfort.

~

A new face had appeared in court, a beautiful woman by the name Anck-Su-Namun, the daughter of a noble at court. She was as graceful as she was deadly, trained in combat she was a skilled woman, impressing the court with her prowess. Quickly she caught the eye of the Pharaoh. Her alluring appearance and saccharine words appealed to the older widower. She consumed his thoughts till she became his most favored concubine. Soon, she was to be the Queen, bound to bear a male heir to the throne. Men lusted after her and Pharaoh’s harem envied her, yet all the wealth of Egypt was not enough for her, she desired more, something different, someone different.

Anck-Su-Namun was Princess Nefertiri’s combat instructor before she caught the Pharaoh’s eye so as a part of her wedding celebrations, a martial display between Anck-Su-Namun and Nefertiri was organized by the Pharaoh.

It was that very night that Pharaoh had been slain by his favorite lover and his trusted High Priest. The Medjai rushed to save him but they were too late. The Pharaoh bled out on the stone floors.

Nefertiri bore witness to the event, her eyes burning with rage at the death of her father. Leading the Medjai in pursuit of the priest who sought to perform a perversion against the very gods themselves, raising someone from the dead and ripping them away from the judgement of Anubis, she finally caught the priest, ordering the Homdai, the most terrifying of curses, a cursed death, a half-life, an eternity of torment.

The entirety of Egypt was in mourning, with the Pharaoh gone, who would lead them? In this moment of turmoil, Nefertiri rose to the challenge, becoming the Pharaoh herself. Like any new ruler she had to establish herself as capable, yet she did it with an unfaltering grace soon becoming beloved by her people.

Her first act as Pharaoh was breaking her sister’s betrothal. Her betrothed was not pleased and demanded compensation for the betrothal which was granted to the man in the form of a different bride, a far more willing cousin of the Pharoah who had yet to be wed.

With the betrothal ended she could breathe a sigh of relief, now she remained untethered, yet the man of her desires still refused to look at her.

Perhaps he was consumed with shame or guilt or even self-loathing. Perhaps his pride kept him from her. Perhaps he believed himself unworthy. Whatever the reason was, his avoidance was getting infuriating, so with a sense of new-found determination she decided to find him, or like her sister said, “Grab him by his ear and make him listen.”

Part 2

[sequinsmile-x]

Casually Cruel in the Name of Being Honest

Suddenly, she’s 6 again. And 16. And desperate for her mother’s attention as she stood on the other side of her desk in her office. She can’t help but wonder when she’ll learn that things will never change. When that last bit of hope that her relationship with her mother could be different will eventually die out.

Five times Emily doesn't yell at Elizabeth, and one time she does.

-x-

Hi friends,

It's been a little while since I got all up in Emily's mommy issues, so here are are.

Like all these 5+1 fics do this got away from me.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy

Words: 7.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

“Last chance to back out.” 

Aaron looks at his girlfriend as they step into the hotel lobby, and his heart aches at the look on her face, the barely contained tension he can see in the set of her jaw. The tightness of it spreads down her neck and across her shoulders, her posture so stiff and rigid he’s surprised her collarbone doesn’t crack with the pressure of it. He reaches for her hand and links their fingers together, his smile soft and full of love as he raises their joint hands to kiss her knuckles. 

“I have met your mom before, sweetheart,” he says in an attempt to calm her down, something he knows he’s failed at when she sighs, the sound drawn from the depths of her soul, pushing past years of repression and pain over the relationship with her mother that had never been what she’d wanted. 

“Not as my boyfriend, Aaron,” she replies, huffing as he tugs her out of the way of the flow of people walking into the hotel, all dressed up like they were. A lobby full of tuxedos, beautiful dresses, and faces she vaguely recognises all here to take part in the charity event her mother was hosting, “She’s…” she swallows thickly, “She’s hard work and full of opinions. Especially when it comes to my life. I don’t want her to…” 

He frowns as she drifts off, her eyes shining, the lights from the high ceilings reflecting in them. He squeezes her hand again and uses his other to cup her chin, encouraging her to look at him. He makes sure he’s firm but kind as he speaks, not wanting her to doubt him or his feelings for her in any way. 

“There is nothing your mother could do or say that would make me change my mind about being with you, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek, her reprimand about her lipstick when he tried to kiss her properly in the car still floating around in his mind, “Nothing.” 

She chokes on a laugh, “I don’t know how to feel about the fact you can already read my mind 6 months into our relationship.” She squeezes his hand, makes sure to press everything she won’t say here into his skin, her love for him, the way she treasured him, something she considered to be just for them. 

He leans in to kiss her cheek again, “You say that like you can’t read mine.” 

She hums, “One of the downsides of dating a profiler I guess. Or an upside. Depending on how you look at it.” she smiles, unable to stop herself, the corners of her lips turning upwards despite how she’d felt just moments ago, “We should go in.” 

He nods and lets go of her hand, offering her his arm instead, and he smiles when she hooks hers through it and wraps her other hand around his tricep, desperate to be as close as possible. “I’ll be by your side the whole time.” 

“You’re so getting lucky when we get home later.” 

They manage to dodge her mother at first. It’s a dance Emily had learnt at a young age, her mother’s patterns and habits ones she’d learnt as a defence mechanism. It would never last all evening, because her mother knew her just as well, but it often lasted long enough to have a couple of glasses of champagne. The tension in her chest and shoulders loosened by the bubbles as well as Aaron’s touch, his hand a constant reassurance on her back as he kept his promise to not leave her side. 

Emily blows out a breath when she spots her mother walking towards them, a man Emily knew to be the son of one of her fellow ambassadors in tow, “Incoming.” 

Aaron doesn’t have a chance to respond before Elizabeth is next to them, leaning in to kiss Emily on each of her cheeks, the same greeting he’d watched her give everyone she’d spoken to that evening. 

“Emily,” she says, smiling as she steps back, “It’s lovely to see you,” she looks at Aaron, “Agent Hotchner, lovely to see you too,” she turns to look at the man next to her, “Emily I’m sure you remember Anthony, Ambassador Collin’s son,” she waits for Emily to nod, “Anthony, this is my daughter Emily and her boss, Agent Hotchner.”

She knows it’s purposeful. That her mother’s use of Agent Hotchner instead of his name is an attempt to make him feel small, to try and implement some kind of hierarchy that only she cared about. Emily also knew it was no coincidence that she’d walked over with Anthony, a man she had tried to set Emily up with close to 20 years ago. A man she knew had recently, very publicly, got divorced. 

“Aaron,” she corrects, her smile sweet, the fake one Aaron had watched her use with unsubs and police officers who got a little too close for comfort, “His name is Aaron, and he’s also my boyfriend.” 

The flash of annoyance across her mother’s face is something she enjoys more than she should, but she keeps her smile fixed in place, desperate to maintain the polite niceness that they had always existed in. She’d learnt a long time ago it was best to not bite at anything her mother dangled in front of her, that Elizabeth would always end up turning it on her. So instead she played the game her mother had invented, the pieces of it were ones she’d learnt to use when she was young. 

“Nice to meet you,” Anthony says to Aaron, offering his hand out, his smile a kind of smug Emily hates, “You’re an Agent?” 

“At the FBI,” Aaron answers, reaching out to shake his hand. He squeezes tighter than necessary, something Emily can see in the way Anthony’s eyes briefly flash when his knuckles knock together, but his smile never shifts. It’s proof she didn’t know she needed that he could slot into this part of her life easily, “What is it you do?” 

Anthony clears his throat as he pulls his hand away, subtly shaking it to relieve the ache as it falls back to his side, “I’m currently…in between positions.” 

Aaron hums, an edge of sympathy to it that Emily knows is fake, and she has to press her lips together to stop herself from smiling, “Well,” she says, looking at her mother, her eyes fierce as they meet briefly, “We were about to go dance, right honey?” 

He nods and reaches for her hand, his touch soft as he links their fingers together, “Yes, we were,” he replies, “Lovely to see you again Ambassador Prentiss.” 

By the time they make it to the dance floor, Emily is furious, her anger simmering under her skin as Aaron pulls her closer, his arm banding around her back, “She is unbelievable,” she grumbles, her breath skipping across Aaron’s cheek, “Trying to set me up with that guy right in front of you.” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he assures her, squeezing her hand to encourage her to look at him, “It’s not your fault,” he leans in to kiss her, his lips catching hers, “Do you want me to say something to her?”

She shakes her head, “No, it’s…it’s just easier to not say anything,” she says, “I learnt that a long time ago.”

“Do you want to leave?” 

She sighs sadly, “It’s easier to stay too,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, “You held your own though,” she says, smiling as she pulls back, “It’s almost like you were born for this.” 

He smiles, “I was born to be with you,” he replies, and it has the reaction he’d hoped for. A surprised laugh pulled from her chest that is followed by her rolling her eyes and shaking her head. 

She kisses him, not a quick thing this time but a kiss that leaves her having to wipe her lipstick from his lips afterwards, her touch and the way she looks at him tender, their future swimming in the depths of them. “I think I was born to be with you too.”

___

Two

She hums contentedly as she rests her head against Aaron’s shoulder, her smile impossibly wider when he turns his head to kiss her forehead. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He mumbles against her skin and she nods, tilting her head upwards to capture her fiance’s lips in a kiss, her hand on his cheek as she ignores the playful jeers from some of their friends. 

“I’m more than okay,” she says, kissing him again, “This has been…” she shakes her head at herself as she drifts off, looking around the room, their nearest and dearest spread out at all the other tables around them, empty plates and half-empty glasses around them, “It’s been more fun than I thought it would be.” 

The party had been Penelope’s idea at first. Her delight at their engagement immediately shifting her into party planning mode, her eyes wide and full of excitement as all of Emily and Aaron’s attempts at saying they didn’t need a party were ignored. In the end, they’d relented, both of them more excited than they’d admit at the idea of celebrating their love for each other as much as they could. Elizabeth had largely overtaken everything the moment she found out, seemingly almost more excited at the idea of an engagement party than she was at the engagement itself. 

“Your mother and Garcia should open a party planning business,” he says dryly, tasting her laugh as he stamps a kiss against hers. 

“Don’t give them any ideas,” she quips, looking over at her mother, “Not before the wedding anyway.” 

She’d decided not to argue with any of the plans about the engagement party, largely just happy to be told by her mom and Penelope where to go and when to go there. She was saving her strength to keep the wedding itself as she wanted it to be, absolutely insistent that it would be much simpler than this had been. That the only guests would be people she cared about, not a room full of her mother’s friends and colleagues like this had turned into. 

“Good point,” he mumbles, his lips against her temple as their attention is pulled away from each other by the sound of a piece of cutlery gently tapping against a glass. They look over to find Elizabeth standing up, her glass of champagne in hand as the room falls into silence. 

Emily muffles a groan against Aaron’s shoulder, “Here we go,” she grumbles so only he can hear her. He places his hand on her thigh and squeezes. She links their fingers together, reaches for her wine, “$50 she makes a comment about my age.” 

He doesn’t have time to respond before Elizabeth starts her speech, so he simply squeezes Emily’s thigh again, putting as much love into the touch as he can. He’d promised a long time that he wouldn’t get involved in her relationship with her mother, that he’d leave it to her, but it was hard at times. Almost impossible to keep himself in check as he watched Elizabeth chip away at Emily’s self-confidence, her fingers pressed against buttons she’d sewed on herself when her daughter was young. 

“I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for coming,” Elizabeth says, “I lost hope years ago that I’d ever get to throw an engagement party for Emily,-”

“In the first sentence,” Emily mumbles to Aaron, her words drowned out by polite laughter, before she takes a large gulp of her wine, “Easiest $50 I’ve ever made.” 

“- Despite all of that, I am so pleased that Emily has found someone who makes her happy,” Elizabeth carries on, a rare flash of genuine sincerity in her eyes as Emily looks up, “So, let’s raise a glass to Emily and Aaron.” 

“To Emily and Aaron.” 

They both smile as they raise their glasses too, and the room falls back into the loud chatter that had been there all evening. 

“To us,” Aaron says, his smile soft when she looks at him, and she clinks her glass against his.

“To us,” she replies, her tone lacklustre as she takes a sip of her wine before she sets the glass down. 

Aaron turns slightly so his knees knock against her leg, “Sweetheart-”

“It’s okay,” she says, cutting off his attempt to comfort her, not wanting anyone to be witness to it, his gentle love for her one of the few things that could make her fall apart, “It’s not like she was ever going to do a gushing, loving speech about me,” she shrugs, “It’s what I expected.” 

“That doesn’t make it right, Em.”

She nods, her lips pressed together as she cups his cheek, “I know,” she says, smiling tightly before she stamps her lips against his, “Later.” 

He tightens his hold on her leg but relents, knowing she won’t talk about it until they are alone, their house a sanctuary for both of them, “Later.” 

She smiles gratefully and rests her cheek briefly against his shoulder before she sits up, “You’d better be good for that $50,” she says, easily slipping into the role she had to play here in a way that makes him ache, “I know where you live after all.” 

He chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I’m good for it,” he says, winking at her, “I’m about to marry rich.” 

She scoffs, the laugh that pushes past it genuine, her smile wide and sparkling as she lightly slaps his chest, “Aaron.” 

___

Three  

She turns so she’s briefly side on to the mirror, her heart swelling in her chest at her reflection as she turns head on again, her hands smoothing down the white satin, “I love this one.” 

“It’s a little simple, don’t you think.” 

Emily closes her eyes and blows out a breath to centre herself before she turns to face the plush couch behind her. Penelope, JJ, Elizabeth and Jack were all lined up looking at her, looks of delight on all of their faces except her mother’s who was looking at her with a critical eye she hadn’t seen since they bought her dress for her confirmation. 

It was a simple dress. Or as simple as a wedding dress could be. The neckline was scooped across her collarbone, ensuring that the scar on her chest was covered, not wanting Ian to have any involvement in this, and the dress was well fitted around her bust and waist, falling into a simple slip silhouette from there. The back of the dress was low, two straps that were an inch thick that came to just above her waist, and there were a series of small buttons that trailed down just past her lower back. It was beautiful and simple and it felt like it symbolised her and Aaron’s love for each other because of that. 

“You’ve said that about every dress I’ve tried on,” she scrunches her nose up a little and sees her mother raise her eyebrows. Elizabeth doesn’t have to say anything for Emily to know what she’s thinking, oh you do look like your father when you do that, so she stops, exhaling slowly as she looks at herself in the mirror. 

“That’s because every dress you’ve tried on is simple.”

“I think it’s nice,” JJ says, ever the person to try and mediate, “It suits you.” 

Penelope nods and dabs at her eyes with a bright pink handkerchief, “You look beautiful.” 

She smiles at her friends, their love for her, for her family, something she doesn’t think she could live without. Their friendship the very thing she once thought she’d never have, female companionship she’d somehow lived without in the 37 years before she’d met them. 

“Thank you,” she says before she turns to her mother,  “I like that it’s simple, I don’t think I’m a ruffles and taffeta kind of bride,” she says, stepping off the small platform in front of the mirror as she looks down at herself, smiling when she hears JJ and Penelope stifle a laugh. “I’m getting married in Dave’s backyard, I don’t exactly need a gown” 

Elizabeth hums, “Yes, we all know where you’re getting married, Emily.” 

She smiles, her jaw tight as she clears her throat, pushing away the instinct to argue with her mother. She’d made her distaste for Emily and Aaron’s wedding plans clear from the start. An almost constant barrage of passive aggressive comments about its simplicity, as if that was a dirty word, whenever the wedding was mentioned. Emily hated it, hated that she didn’t have a relationship with her mother where this was something they could bond over. 

Most of all, she hated that she still expected anything different to what they had, that she consistently expected more from a woman who had never been what she’d wanted. 

“I think you look really pretty, Emmy.”

Emily smiles at Jack and she walks over to him. She leans down and kisses the top of his head, trailing her fingers through his hair as she pulls back, “Thanks, sweet boy. Do you think Daddy will like it?” 

“He’ll love it,” Jack says innocently, unaware of the slight tension around him that all of the adults were ignoring, “He always says you’re pretty in everything.” 

She blushes at that and looks over Jack’s head at her mother, the tight smile that was always reserved for her painted across her face, “That settles it then. I’m getting this one.” 

Penelope makes her pose with a sign from the bridal shop with ‘I said yes to the dress’ printed on the front of it. Emily pulls Jack into the picture, his smile as wide as hers, and she texts it to Aaron as they all head out for a celebratory dinner. By the time they get home, she’s exhausted in just about every way possible. She slumps down onto the couch and covers her face with her hands, the cool press of her engagement ring against her cheek a comfort to her weary soul. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?”

She groans as she pulls her hands off her face and looks up at Aaron, “I’m tired.” 

He smiles at her and joins her on the couch, his arm around her shoulders as he encourages her to lean on him, “Jack just said the same thing,” he kisses her forehead, “I think if I went upstairs in about 10 minutes I’d find him and Sergio curled up asleep on his bed,” he smiles as she chuckles against him, “He also said that, and I quote ‘Miss Lizzie was being mean to Emmy.’”

She sighs and pulls back to look at him, “I’m sorry, I should have protected him from it a little better. She was driving me crazy all day. She had an issue with every dress I tried on,” she smiles sadly and shrugs, “She didn’t like the one I chose in the end.” 

“You don’t have to apologise for anything, Em,” he says, running his hand up and down her arm, “Do you like the dress?” 

She nods, her lips pressed together as she tries to contain her smile, the same feeling she’d had when she saw herself in the dress for the first time blooming in her chest, “I love it.” 

“Then that is all that matters,” he assures her, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling when she scrunches it up, “You look cute when you do that.”

She furrows her brow, “Do what?” 

“Scrunch your nose up when I kiss it,” he does it again for good measure, his smile wide when it happens by reflex, “It’s cute.” 

He was always doing that. Unknowingly undoing the damage her mother had done over the years. Her comments and criticisms so vast she could never tell him about them all. It warms her from the inside out. Makes it hard to breathe as she gets overwhelmed by it all, unsure what she’d done to deserve the love of a man like him. 

“You’re cute,” she replies, kissing his cheek and then the corner of his mouth, smiling when he hums in response. 

“You can’t tell anyone else, I’ve got a reputation as a hardass to uphold.” 

She smiles and nods, happy to keep this version of him as hers. His softness for her and Jack something she wanted to protect, precious and rare and a privilege to see. 

“Your secret is safe with me.”

___

Four

She sings along with the music as she dances with her new husband, her cheek skimming against Aaron’s as they sway back and forth.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks, turning his head so his lips catch the corner of hers, his hand on her back - half on her bare skin and half on the soft material of her dress. 

“I’m more than okay,” she says as she leans in, her nose skimming his as she makes sure she’s quiet, keen to make sure none of the people watching them hear her, “I think this might be one of the best days of my life.” 

He beams at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks as he pulls her closer, “I know it’s one of the best days of mine.” 

It had been everything she’d wanted it to be. Simple and intimate. Just the people that they cared about around them as they said their vows and made promises to each other she knew they’d keep, both of their voices shaking as they saw forever in each other's eyes. 

She kisses him as the music comes to an end, her hands on his cheeks to hold him in place when she hears a playful jeer from Derek and some applause from the small crowd. She pulls back just barely enough to speak, “I love you so fucking much.”

Aaron chuckles and stamps his lips against hers, “I love you too,” he kisses her again, “So fucking much,” he looks up at Dave calling his name, the older man beckoning him over to the temporary bar set up in his back yard, “Apparently I’m needed at the bar.” 

She hums and looks over her shoulder at their friend before she turns back to Aaron, “Don’t drink too much,” she murmurs, running her hands down his chest to play with his tie, tugging lightly at the pure silk, “I have plans for you later that won’t work out if you drink too much of Dave’s expensive scotch.” 

He smiles and squeezes her waist with both hands, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “You’ve been my wife a matter of hours and you’re already in charge.” 

“Oh honey,” she says, tapping his cheek lovingly, “I’ve been in charge a long long time.” 

He captures her hand and kisses her knuckles before he walks away, his fingers only slipping past hers when he’s too far away to hold her hand anymore, neither one of them wanting to be apart for long. 

Emily sighs contentedly as she walks back towards the head table, seeking out her glass of champagne and a brief moment of solitude, the emotions of the day making her as overwhelmed as she was happy. She’s barely sat down before she smells her mother’s perfume. A mix of Chanel and judgement in the air signals her arrival before she can sit down next to her, a calling card Emily used to avoid wherever possible in the hallways of their home. 

“Hello Emily,” she says as she joins her, “How are you doing?”

Her mother’s tone doesn’t pass her by, the way she asks it makes it sound like they were just passing the time of day, not that it was her only child’s wedding day. 

“I’m good, Mom,” she replies, smiling when she looks over at Aaron and Dave at the bar, Jack just a few feet away from them as he dances with Will, “More than good. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” She looks at Elizabeth, “Today was…perfect.” 

Elizabeth hums, “It was certainly…simpler than what I’d imagined for you when you were a little girl, but I guess it makes sense because you’re not exactly a blushing bride, and Aaron’s been married before. I’m glad you had a nice day.” 

Emily presses her lips together and takes a calming breath. She’d promised herself, and Aaron, that she wouldn’t let her mother taint this, that she’d enjoy every second no matter what Elizabeth said. She’d kept that promise, let her mother’s comments about her dress, the food, the venue, all pass her by. Her enjoyment of the day, of the celebration of her love for Aaron and the future they were promising each other far more important than her mother’s attempts to get under her skin. 

“Well,” she says, taking a sip of her champagne, “Given that I’m the bride that’s the aim.” 

Elizabeth sighs, “Really, Emily, you do like to pick at everything I say. I was trying to say I’m glad you had fun.” 

It’s a backhanded compliment and she knows it, as well as an attempt to place all of the blame for their fractured relationship on her shoulders, but she still doesn’t bite. Doesn’t want to trip and fall into an argument with her mother, knowing it wasn’t worth it on even a normal day. That she’d never truly win an argument she’d been born to lose. 

“Thank you,” she replies, smiling sweetly as she finishes her champagne, “I’m going to go find my husband.” They both know it’s an excuse, Aaron had never left her line of sight, but Elizabeth doesn’t say anything, she simply nods and lets Emily go. 

When she makes it to the bar Aaron wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her into his side, “I was just about to come rescue you.” 

She cups his chin and holds him in place to kiss him, “You’re the best husband ever.” 

He smiles and kisses her, and it makes her shiver. He steps back to shrug off his jacket and he places it around her shoulders, his voice low so only she hears him as he whispers against her ear, “You okay?” 

She nods and looks back at him over her shoulder, “I’m perfect.” 

His smile turns into a grin and he winks at her, “You’re finally coming round to my way of thinking, I’ve been telling you you’re perfect since our first date.” 

___

Five 

Having dinner at their house had been Aaron’s idea, his smile soft as he said it would make her feel more comfortable than going to her mother’s. She was nervous, anxiety thrumming under her skin over telling her mother their news, her stomach twisting with something other than the morning sickness that had been plaguing her for weeks. 

They’d been trying since just before they got married, both of them aware that if they wanted a baby or two their time was starting to run out. Emily had started to lose hope, each negative pregnancy test hollowing out a little bit more of her chest each month. When she finally found herself staring at a positive test, two pink lines bright and unmistakable as they stared up at her, it took a moment for it to register. She hadn’t realised she was crying until Aaron stepped into the bathroom, ready to comfort her as per the routine they’d fallen into. It was only when she’d made him look at the test, too overwhelmed to say it outloud herself, that he realised they were tears of joy. 

She was 16 weeks along now and her mother was the last person they had to tell. Jack was excited to be a big brother, his immediate demand for a little sister something that had made both Emily and Aaron laugh. The team had been delighted for them, as had Jessica when they told her, a glint in her eyes as she told Aaron that Haley would be happy for him. A part of Emily that she was never quite able to control hoped her mother would be happy for them too, that she’d break the habit of a lifetime and only have good things to say. 

Dinner itself had been fine. Aaron cooked a meal that Emily could still stomach, a lot of her favourite foods apparently not favourites of the baby. After they finished eating, polite conversation floating in the air around them along with the smell of the chocolate dessert in the oven, Emily knows she can’t put it off any longer. 

“Mom, we have something to tell you,” she says, her smile fading when her mother barely reacts, her gaze fixed on her cell phone in her hands. She’d been checking it on and off all night, seemingly too busy to be able to put her work aside for even one evening with her daughter, “Mom,” she repeats, an all too familiar feeling of disappointment washing over her, “Can you put your phone down for just a few minutes? I’m trying to talk to you.” 

Elizabeth hums, still not looking up from the screen of her phone, typing furiously as she responds to whatever email she was replying to, “Emily, my job is important - you know that - and I can focus on two things at once.” 

Suddenly, she’s 6 again. And 16. And desperate for her mother’s attention as she stood on the other side of her desk in her office. She can’t help but wonder when she’ll learn that things will never change. When that last bit of hope that her relationship with her mother could be different will eventually die out. Aaron links his hand through hers under the dining room table and it brings her back to herself, reminds her that she’s married now, that she’s sat in her home and that Jack is asleep upstairs. It doesn’t make the pain caused by her mother’s indifference go away, but it dulls it. Makes it bearable because she isn’t alone any more and she never will be again. She blows out a breath as she places her other hand on her mostly still flat stomach, the bump only really noticeable to her and Aaron when they looked for it. 

“I’m pregnant,” she says, her hand tight around Aaron’s as she watches her mother carefully. She waits a few seconds for a response, for any kind of indication that she’d heard her, and she blows out a slow breath before she tries again, “Mom, did you hear me? I said-”

“Yes, you’re pregnant,” she says, cutting her off, finally looking over the top of her phone at Emily, “Did you really think I didn’t notice the moment I arrived? You’re not drinking wine and you look…healthier than when I last saw you.” 

“You can’t-”

She cuts off Aaron’s attempt to defend her with nothing but a squeeze of his hand, her blunt nails briefly digging into the gaps between his fingers. She clenches her teeth, her jaw so tight she’s surprised it doesn’t fracture, and she swallows thickly to push down everything she doesn’t have the energy to say, “Is that all you’ve got to say?” 

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow at her, “Do you want me to say something else?” 

She mumbles under her breath, “Most people start with congratulations.” 

“What was that, Emily?” 

“Nothing,” she replies as she stands up, the scrape of her chair against the hardwood floor echoing throughout the room, “I said I’ll go check on dessert.” 

She’s in the kitchen for all of a few seconds before Aaron is with her, his jaw set in a firm line as he barely hides his irritation, “Em-”

“Honey, can we not do this,” she says, casting a glance at him as she gets the dessert out of the oven, her entire body tense as she places it down on the counter, “I don’t need you to tell me I deserve better, or that she shouldn’t speak to me that way. Because I know that okay?” Despite her irritation, despite the sadness turning over in her gut, she keeps her voice low, not wanting her mother to overhear or to wake up Jack, “I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. But it’s how it is and nothing is going to change that,” she turns to get some bowls out of the cabinet, sure if she looked at him too long she’d fall apart despite what she’s saying, “I really can’t deal with this right now. We just…can we just see it through until she goes home? Please?” 

It takes everything in him to nod in agreement. To not go into the dining room and tell his mother-in-law exactly what he thought of her, and that she wasn’t welcome in his home until she treated his wife with the respect she deserved. It goes against all of his instincts, his desire to protect her, even though she’d spent all her life protecting himself, so habitual to him it felt like breathing. He knows this is what she wants though, that he has to follow her lead when it comes to her mother and her relationship with her, so he steps forward, his hand skirting her lower back as he slips past her to grab the serving spoon. 

“I’ll serve dessert, sweetheart,” he says, smiling softly at her, “Why don’t you go have a minute or two alone? I think I saw Sergio in the living room. I’m sure he’ll appreciate some attention.” 

She sighs gratefully, resting her head against his shoulder as he wraps one arm around her, allowing herself a brief moment of comfort before she pulls away, a taster of what she’d get to have later when her mother was gone, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her forehead as she steps past him and disappears from view. He blows out a frustrated breath the moment he’s alone, irritation aimed at Elizabether burning in his veins, and then hears his wife clear her throat from the doorway, “Yes baby?” 

“Can I have the end piece please?” 

He smiles and nods, “You’re having my baby - you can have the end piece for the rest of our lives. 

She smiles at him, the ache in her cheeks caused by him at odds with the churning caused in her gut by her mother, “Correct answer.” 

___

+ One 

Emily rocks herself back and forth on the porch swing, her cheek pressed against the top of her daughter’s head as she hums, letting Ivy feel the vibrations of her chest as she eases her back to sleep. She looks up sharply at a loud laugh, smiling when she sees Jack pushing Hazel on the swing set, the three-year-old always at her happiest when she is the centre of her brother’s attention. 

Ivy gristles against her, rubbing her face against Emily’s collarbone, and she looks down to soothe her, her lips against the top of her head as she rubs a hand up and down her back, “You’re okay, sweet girl,” she kisses her head again, “One day, far too soon for my liking, you’ll be out there playing with them too.”

The 6-week-old grunts as if in response and Emily chuckles, the sound drowned out by the door leading out from the kitchen to the porch. She smiles at her husband as he pops his head around the door, his lips pressed together. 

“Your mother’s car just pulled up.” 

She nods, grateful for the warning, and he steps back into the house to let her mother in. Elizabeth had been away on assignment and had only been back in the US for a couple of days, so this was the first time she’d be meeting Ivy. 

“Are you ready to meet grandma, Ivy?” She asks, smiling down at the sleeping newborn, “Don’t worry if she looks angry, that’s just her face.” 

She waits as she hears muffled conversation get louder as Aaron and her mother walk through the house and her breath catches in her chest when the door opens again, a type of anxiety only her mother could draw out of her filling her lungs. 

Despite her initial disappointing reaction to finding out Emily was pregnant with Hazel, Elizabeth had been an excellent grandmother. She doted on the little girl and Jack, buying them extravagant gifts from wherever she went in the world, always ignoring Emily’s subtle attempts at trying to say it was too much. She’d love Ivy too, Emily knew that, but she also knew her limit for her mother’s comments, well meaning or not, ended with her children. She could accept whatever her mother wanted to say about her, but never them. They would grow up free of the shackles of expectation that she’d never quite been fully held down by, and the halls of their home were full of love and affection, not disappointment and conversations that didn’t mean anything. 

“Oh look at her,” Elizabeth says as she joins them on the swing, peering down at the baby fast asleep against Emily’s chest, “She’s precious.” 

“Thanks, Mom,” Emily says, “Do you want to hold her? I just fed her so she’ll be settled for a while.” 

Elizabeth subtly shakes her head, “I’m happy to just look, this suit is Chanel, I can’t risk any baby related projectiles.” 

Emily casts a glance at Aaron, who was not so subtly glaring at the back of Elizabeth’s head, but any conversation is cut off as Jack and Hazel run up to the porch, both delighted to see their grandmother. Aaron eventually takes Ivy from Emily to put her down in her bassinet, and as Jack and Hazel tire of listening to the adults talk and run back into the backyard, Emily finds herself alone with her mother. 

“Aaron said you had to have a c-section?” 

She nods at her mother, ignoring the ache in her arms now her baby is no longer in them, instead focusing on Jack and Hazel running around the backyard, “Yes,” she replies, “Ivy was being a little stubborn and my labour stalled. It was the safest thing for both of us.” 

It hadn’t been what she’d wanted. Her memories of her labour with Hazel were fond ones, the pain of it blurry now, the only sharp memories the ones of being handed her daughter for the first time, that first press of her skin against hers. Her labour with Ivy had become very scary very quickly, and she still felt like she’d been robbed of some of the joy of what she knew was her last baby’s birth. 

“They used to call it the easy way out back in my day.” 

Emily scoffs, the sound escaping before she can stop it, “As someone who’s done it both ways, I can assure you there is no such thing as the easy way out, Mother.” 

Hazel laughs loudly from the swing set, drawing their attention towards her as she tries to run up the slide attached to it, the multicoloured tutu she’d insisted on wearing and her stripy tights, her feet bare other than them after she’d won the battle over shoes that morning, hindering her ever so slightly. Emily is about to call out to tell her to be careful when Jack beats her to it, his hands on his little sister’s back as he guides her upwards, his smile shy as he looks over at Emily. 

“She really is wild,” Elizabeth says, as if she’d only vocalised half a thought, “You’re going to have to get her under control at some point.” 

She can feel her control fraying, the edges of it giving way as she swallows thickly, desperate to make sure she doesn’t snap, “She’s three. And she’s acting like a three-year-old. I see nothing that needs controlling.” 

Elizabeth rolls her eyes, “Oh please Emily, if you don’t tamper all of that down soon she’s going to end up just like you.” 

Snap. 

“And what’s wrong with that, Mom?” She asks, not able to keep it in, her anger breaking free of where she’d kept it locked away all these years, “What would be so awful about my little girl being just like me?” 

“Emily, you’re over-”

“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting,” she says, standing up and throwing a glance at the kids, forcing a smile when Jack looks at her with concern pressed into his eyes. She calms down for a moment, never wanting him to think she was angry with him, “Look after your sister for me, we’ll just be inside.” 

“Yes, Mom,” he replies with a nod and Emily walks in, grateful that she doesn’t have to explain to her mother that she expects her to follow her. The moment they are inside she turns to look at Elizabeth, the confusion painted across her face doing nothing to calm her down. 

“I think you misunderstood me, Emily,” she says, her hands folded in front of her, “I was simply saying-”

“That if I don’t teach my little girl, my fucking three-year-old, to be quieter, to make herself smaller, that she’ll have the misfortune of turning into me,” she scoffs, shaking her head as tears fill her eyes, still at the mercy of her hormones and a lack of sleep, “Which, apparently is a fate so awful you feel the need to mention it.” 

She hears Aaron’s footsteps behind her as he joins them, feels his palm on her lower back, “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” 

Before she can say anything, before she can do anything other than look up at him through shining eyes, her mother cuts over her. 

“Aaron, please speak to your wife - she’s being ridiculous.” 

Aaron wraps his arm around Emily’s waist, his grip firm and reassuring as a disbelieving sob catches in her chest, “I think it’s best you leave, Elizabeth.” 

In any other circumstance, Emily is sure she’d find the look of shock that passes over her mother’s face funny, but it simply makes her angrier, the fact that she didn’t get it, and likely never would, more painful than she could admit even to herself. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You need to leave,” he says, squeezing Emily’s hip one more time before he steps away to lead Elizabeth towards the front door, “I won’t have you come here and upset her. Not when I’ve already let so much slide in the past.”

Elizabeth scoffs, “She’s my daughter-”

“And she’s my wife,” he says, opening the front door, “You should go.” 

Elizabeth sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly, “I didn’t mean to cause any upset.” 

“I think that’s the problem,” he says, standing so he’s blocking her view of Emily as she steps outside, “You never mean to, but you always manage to anyway.” 

He closes the door and gives himself a moment to breathe through his anger, his grip on the door handle tight as he lets it pass. Emily didn’t need his anger, she needed his love - and that was something he had in abundance. 

When he walks back into the kitchen, she’s still standing in the same spot, the sleeves of his sweater she’s wearing pulled down over her fists, visible wet streaks on them that he knows are her tears, her face also covered in them. 

“So,” she chokes out, her smile shaking as she forces it, “How long have you wanted to throw my mother out?” 

They both know what she’s doing, that it’s easier for her to try and use humour to get past this, the world unsteady beneath her feet after she’d said some things she thought she’d never say. 

“Longer than I care to admit,” he says as he walks towards her, tugging her gently into his embrace, something she willingly sinks into. He kisses the top of her head and runs his hands up and down her back.

“How much did you hear?” She asks, her question muffled against his t-shirt.

“Enough to know it was something about Haze,” he says, smiling as he encourages her to look up at him, “I always knew if you were to snap at her it would be about the kids,” he wipes a tear from her cheek, “You never would if it was just about you.” 

She hums, leaning into his palm as he cups her cheek, “I’m not sure what good it would have done. She’s never been one to self-reflect.” 

 “When you’re ready to talk to her about it,” he says, smiling when she kisses his palm, “I’ll be right there with you. And I’ll throw her out again if I need to.” 

She smiles, the corners of her lips twitching upwards as she gives him a quick peek of her dimples, “My hero.” 

He shakes his head, “No sweetheart,” he says, pulling her back against his chest, “You’ve always been your own hero. Just think of me as your live in bouncer.” 

She laughs, loud and beautiful, and she shakes her head at him, “My very sexy live in bouncer.” 

He stamps his lips against hers, “It’s the role of a lifetime.”