#they took a lot at the first borns and were like

[justmymindandstuff]

Hello, how you doing ?

Could i request Cregan Stark x Daemon's first daughter, born from Rhea Royce ?

She is a Targaryen and has a dragon, but she is very shy and tends to keep to herself, so she doesn't tell Cregan about being bullied by Arra Norrey's maids, who think she is not good enough for their lord.

He figures it out when he finds her letters to Rhaenyra and sees her trying to put her bags on her dragon to flee in the middle of the night.

Feel free to ignore this if you don't like it, have a lovely day ☺

Shadows of the past - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

summary: Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell, is forced to remarry after the death of his first wife and childhood sweetheart. His new bride is the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce. Cregan fears the worst. But his wife is sweet, gentle, beautiful, kind. Everything he could wish for. He starts thinking you are slowly building a life together in the north, however he realizes that it is not as idyllic for you as he thought.

words: 7.244

warnings: angst, mention of bullying, mention of sex (not explicit), slow burn

a/n: I love writing for Cregan soo much its not normall anymore. Thank you anon for your request🧡. I hope you like it. Sorry that it took me so long.

no use of Y/N, and as always: English is not my first language, no beta, AO3.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

When the offer of your hand from Dragonstone came, Cregan was skeptical. The eldest daughter of the rough prince as a wife. But he needs a new wife. It is his duty as the Warden of the North. And an offer from the Targaryens is not something you simply refuse. So he agrees.

Cregan had expected you to be a spoiled, arrogant, selfish princess.

The girl who arrived in Winterfell on her dragon is exactly the opposite.

You are shy, reserved, calm.

Outwardly, you are entirely Targaryen, with long blonde hair, deep lilac eyes, gentle facial features, beautiful.

Internally, there is none of the infamous Targaryen temperament in you.

When you speak, your voice sounds like a melody, always soft and gentle.

If it weren't for your dragon, Silverwing, Cregan would never think you are Daemon Targaryen's daughter.

The first few weeks, you were very closed off. Never speak unless you are spoken to. Spent most of your time in your chambers, with work or with your dragon.

So he tries everything to make you feel comfortable in Winterfell. He walks with you through the Goodswood, has your favorite food prepared, makes sure you have enough warm cloaks and dresses. When he introduces you to his son Rickon, he is more nervous than he should be, but your eyes begin to shine as the heir of Winterfell greets you politely, just like Cregan has practiced with him.

On your wedding night he swore to you he would never take you if you didn't want to, he gave you all the power in your marital bed. That night you allowed him to lie with you, he was careful, always aware of your fragility, making sure that you also felt pleasure. After that night you didn't invite him into your bed again. Cregan longs for you, but he would never pressure you.

In your first weeks as Lady Stark you spend a lot of time with Winterfells Measter, ask a lot of questions, slowly working your way into your duties as Lady Stark. Cregan quickly notices that you are well prepared for the role of a Lady of a Great House in Westeros, but Winterfell is unlike other castles. You surprise him by quickly get used to it.

The moon hasn´t passed fully since your wedding, when he finds you one day in Rickon's chambers. You are sitting on the floor with his son and play with wooden soldiers, Rickon is telling a fantasy story and you are encouraging him. Cregan's heart swells slightly at the sight.

He clears his throat to get your attention, you flinch violently, when you look up at him you look like a deer.

You get to your feet immediately, surprisingly elegant despite your hectic behavior. "My Lord." you say and lower your head in front of him. A gesture that he couldn't drive out of you.

"My Lady. What are you doing here?"

"We're playing papa." Rickon intervenes without being asked. "Are you playing with us?"

"Unfortunately, I can't today, I have duties to attend to. I just wanted to check on you, my boy."

"I'm fine, father. We're playing great. I have so much fun." he holds up his favorite woodknight.

"Then I don't want to disturb you any further." he smiles at his son, nods to you and then leaves the children's cambers again. His Lords are already waiting for him.

In the evening you come to his chambers, standing uncertainly in his room. Cregan was not expecting you anymore, he has already changed for the night. He offers you a mug of warm beer and a place by the fireplace. As you sit down your cloak slips and the white of your nightgown flashes through. Cregan has to concentrate not to let his gaze wander.

"What brings you to me so late, my wife?" he asks curiously, sitting next to you at the fire.

"I'm sorry." you don´t look him in the eyes.

Cregan has to blink a few times, doesn't understand what you mean. But you don't say anything else, avoid his gaze so that he has to ask. "What are you sorry about?"

"I didn't mean to upset you." your hands play with the fabric of your cloak.

"You didn't upset me, wife. What makes you think that?" he asks, confused. Did he behave differently? Did he speak in a too harsh tone with you?

"Today with Rickon. It upset you that I played with him. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I have no intention of replacing his mother, your late wife."

Cregan has to suppress a laugh. How wrong you are. "It didn't upset me, sweet wife." his voice is soft and you finally look him in the eyes. Your eyes are wide, surprised, your lips open slightly. Cregan wants to lean forward and kiss you, but he doesn't. "I'm glad that you're spending time with Rickon. Maybe you can be a mother figure to him someday." he expresses his wish hesitantly.

"I intend to love him as if he were mine." you say, a smile creeping onto your lips. Cregan is brave and reaches for your warm hand, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. You don't pull away and continue speaking. "But he shouldn't forget his mother."

"Don't worry about this, Lady Selina, Lady Darcy and Lady Alys will keep the memory alive."

"The Nursemaids. What does that mean?" you tilt your head slightly, examining him closely. The soft light of the fire catches in your hair and makes your skin glow warmly. Gods you are beautiful. Cregan has to swallow before he can answer.

"They were my late wife's friends, her Ladies. After Arra died, I asked them to stay in the household to look after Rickon." remembering how overwhelmed Cregan suddenly was by everything, and how much the loss of his first wife hurt him, he needs a moment to ground himself before he can continue speaking. "If that bothers you, then of course I can dismiss them and send them away from Winterfell."

He knows that this loss will hurt Rickon, he has been surrounded by the three Ladies his whole life, Selina was Arra's best friend. However he would do it for you, he wants you to feel comfortable and Rickon would get over the loss of his nannies, he is a Starkman after all, one day he will be as tough as winter. He has to be.

"No. No, please don't send them away." you squeeze his hand a little. "It is important that her friends are here. They need to tell him what his mother was like. I mean his real mother. My mother also died when I was young. I hardly remember her and I have nobody how can told me something about her." you suddenly sound sad. Cregan is surprised by your words. Additional to the Ladies, he regularly speaks to Rickon about his mother, takes him to her grave, tells stories, has a portrait of her hung in Rickon's room.

"Your father doesn't talk about her?"

You sigh, a narrow smile on your lips. You look into the flames again before speaking quietly. "No, never." you bite your lower lip and then whisper. "I was told he killed her." Cregan doesn't doubt for a second that it is true. He squeezes your hand gently. You look at him again, a sad smile on your lips. "It hurts when you don't know your mother. It's like half of yourself is missing. And my other half is a monster. I'm glad Rickon is learning about his mother and that his father isn't a monster."

A lump forms in Cregan's throat, he doesn't know what to say. Your words touch him, but at the same time make him angry at your father and he feels sorry for you. Your life doesn't seem to have been particularly bright.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Thank you. But I don't need your pity." for the first time, Cregan feels like he sees the dragon blood in your eyes. "My stepmothers both treated me as if I were their own blood. I didn't grow up without love."

"I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't." your gentle smile is back on your lips. "So I can take care of Rickon?" you avoid his gaze again, your cheeks are slightly red.

"Of course. I'm glad you're getting along well."

"He's great. A good boy." you smile and then get up elegantly from your chair. "I'm retiring now. Good night husband."

"Good night sweet wife." he sinks into a slight curtsy before leaving his chambers. Cregan takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair. He's happy that you want to take care of Rickon. That you want to be a part of his family. This is something he wanted for this marriage, that you can be a family.

Cregans efforts take fruits. He has the feeling that you are slowly thawing and starting to trust him.

A light summer snow falls down and gets caught in the fur of your hood. Cregan has take you for a ride through the Wolfswood today. Cregan is surprised how well you can hold yourself in the saddle. In the next moment, he doubts his sanity. You are riding a dragon. Such a horse is of course easy for you. You look around with wide eyes and a gentle smile on your face. Cregan can't help but stare at you, captivated by your beauty.

"I missed that at Dragonstone." you say, looking over to him. Cregan flinches slightly, doesn't quite understand what you mean.

"Forests?" he guesses. He has no idea about Dragonstone's vegetation.

"No. To see something new. Dragonstone is an island, if you live there long enough, you've seen everything." you shrug your shoulders.

Cregan has to chuckle slightly. "You have a dragon, sweet Wife. You could have seen the whole world."

"I would never have left my family." you say firmly. Are you angry?

"I didn't mean to offend you." he tries to circle back. He is always a bit unsure when he talks to you. He wants you to feel comfortable, that you are doing well, and he wants you to like him. Maybe someday you will love him. He finds it hard to be patient. If he is honest with himself, you had him from the very first moment. Your beauty overwhelmed him, your kindness and gentleness captivated him, and your smile. Gods, your smile makes his heart beat faster.

He knows that he loves you. Even if he can't tell you. Not yet. He is afraid of scaring you. So he holds back. He tries to give you space so you can get used to your new role, your new home, and him.

He would love to scream his feelings for you from the wall so that the whole world hears it.

But it is not the right time for that yet.

A soft smile is on your lips again. "You didn´t husband."

He is relieved and returns your smile. "Do you want to go back? It's a little cold today."

"I'm not cold. I'm from the blodd of the Dragon. The cold doesn't bother me. It´s almost like I belong in the north." in the next moment your eyes widen and you look down. A blush spreads across your cheeks and Cregan has to swallow, his heart skips a beat.

"You are Lady Stark. You belong to Winterfell now." he says, trying to take away your insecurity. You don't look at him again, but he sees a smile on your lips. Maybe you'll even belong to him someday. He hopes so.

Back in Winterfell, you let him help you off your horse. His hands stay on your hips for a moment too long, but you don't seem to mind. You look up at him, your cheeks turn slightly red but you manage to hold his gaze. Cregan drowns into your beautiful, violet eyes. He leans forward slightly, wanting to feel your lips on his even if it's only for a moment. You don't back away.

"Papa." Rickon's voice echoes across the courtyard. Cregan and you flinch apart. He lets go of you and turns to his son. Anger flares up in him briefly at the disturbance, but when his boy jumps into his arms with a broad laugh, it immediately disappears.

"Rickon! Don't be so wild." Lady Darcy comes running out of the castle after him. Cregan notices you shifting your weight from one foot to the other next to him, out of the corner of his eye he sees you turning to your horse. A strange feeling spreads through him. At that moment Lady Darcy comes to him, opens her arms to take Rickon. "My Lord Stark, welcome back," she greets him and curtsies slightly.

"Papa, can I visit the dragon? Darcy says it's too dangerous alone, but you're back now," his son calls excitedly. Cregan's stomach tighten, he keeps himself as far away from Silverwing as possible. He is not comfortable with the monster. Even if there have been no problems so far, your dragon only hunts prey, stays away from people and the farmers' livestock. She usually flies further north, you told him that she has a cave there.

"I think that's a bad idea." Dracy interjects. "The monster is unpredictable, far too dangerous."

Cregan thinks for a moment, of course the nursemaid is right, Silverwing is dangerous. But you know your dragon better. You will certainly be able to judge whether your dragon poses a danger to Rickon or not. He turns to you to ask if it's okay for you to go visit your dragon with him and Rickon, but you are no longer standing next to your horse. His gaze searches the yard, but there is no trace of you. You sneaked away quietly and secretly. Cregan's eyebrows furrow.

"Papa, please, please. I promise I won't pet the dragon either. Just a quick look."

"My lady wife must go with you, Rickon. But she seems to have other things to do today. Another time."

Rickon's lower lip trembles slightly, but he knows better and doesn't burst into tears. The heir of Winterfell doesn't cry over such little things as a denied wish.

"What important things Lady Stark must have to do." Cregan is surprised by Dracy's bitter tone, but he pushes the thought away; perhaps he simply misunderstood her.

The Maester warned him that summer could soon be over. It has been summer for four years now. That means more work for Cregan as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, he has to make sure that his people survive this winter, at least most of them. Winter demands his victims, every damn time. Cregan can only keep the losses as small as possible. So he sinks into paperwork and negotiations with the Lords of the North. Nobody wants to share supplies, everyone is afraid that there won't be enough for themselves. Cregan's tasks is it to find compromises. He would much rather spend his time with you, he longs for you, for your gentle smile, your kind words, the time you have spend together. He wonders if you miss him too?

He only ever gets brief glimpses of you, when you meet in the hallway you give him a smile, when he makes it to the hall for dinner you are usually already sitting there with Rickon, greet him friendly and assure him that you are happy to see him.

Cregan is on his way to a meeting with the carpenter. The houses in Winter Town need to be made winterproof and the villagers need his help. As he walks across the gallery that spans one of the courtyards of Winterfell, your laughter pulls him out of his stride. He stops immediately and turns his head towards the noise.

You and Rickon run across the courtyard, playing catch. His little boy jumps back and forth in front of you, laughing loudly. You let him win, pretending you have trouble catching him.

Lady Selina steps beside him. Her lips are drawn into a thin line.

"My Lord." she slightly bows her head before him and Cregan smiles faintly, he finds it hard to take his eyes off you and Rickon.

"What can I do for you?" he asks and hopes that it's nothing urgent. He's considering canceling the meeting and taking you and Rickon to the Goodswood instead, where you can spend time together as a family without being disturbed.

"I am worried, My Lord." now she has his full attention. His shoulders tense up.

"What happened?" Unrest among the lords, a fight? The servants usually know this things before he does.

Selina gives him a smile. "Nothing happen, My Lord."

He breathes a sigh of relief. "What troubles you then?" Cregan tries not to sound as annoyed as he is. Selina knows that he has a lot to do at the moment. Neverless for the sake of the love he had for his first wife, he always tries to be friendly, even though Selina can often be irritating. Sometimes she takes herself more important than she is, behaves like the Lady of Winterfell, and Cregan has had to remind her of her position more than once.

"It's your new wife, My Lord." she starts, her smile is friendly, doesn't really fit her tone. At the mention of you his heart beats faster, he just has to think of you and he feels like a little boy with a crush. Seeing you makes him float on cloud nine. Cregan turns back to the side and looks down at you again. The broad smile on his lips is unusual for the young Lord.

"We can be glad that she is here with us." his voice is gentle. He has to clear his throat and straightens his shoulders. He quickly slips back into his role as Lord Stark, not the lovesick idiot.

"Can we?" the sharp tone makes Cregans skin crawl. He furrows his eyebrows, turns around. Lady Selina does not flinch from his gaze, but straightens her shoulders. She is a northern woman, intimidation does not work on her. She is like him, hard as winter, unyielding as the wind.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Lady Selina?"

"No, my Lord. It's just that I… we think that a southern girl might be too weak for the important task of being Lady of Winterfell." she chooses her words carefully, smiling. "I´m only thinking about Rickon and his upbringing. I want the best for him, you know that."

The mention of his son causes his anger at Lady Selina to evaporate. Of course she is only thinking of his son, she wants the best for him. Loves him like her own child.

"My wife is a princess, a Targaryen. She does her job well. Or have you heard something else?"

"No, of course not." Lady Selina lowers her head slightly, no longer looking at Cregan. "I'm just worried about Rickon."

"I really appreciate your concern and care for my son. But your doubts are unfounded. Now if you would excuse me."

"Of course, my Lord." She clenches her jaw and sinks into a curtsy. Cregan walks past her to finally meet the carpenter, he is already too late.

Negotiations with the lords are going badly, Cregan is buried in work and doesn't know what to do. The sun has long set but sleep does not come to him. Instead he sits by the fireplace in his chambers, the taste of beer on his lips and stares into the flames. He sighs. He needs help. Could you give him some advice? That would kill two birds with one stone, he could finally spend some time with you again and maybe find a solution. Without thinking twice he calls for his servant and sends for you.

It doesn't take long before you enter his chambers. You look around uncertainly, you have thrown a cloak over your nightgown, your long blonde hair falls loosely over your shoulders. You are sight for sore eyes.

"My Lord husband," you whisper, curtsying deeper than usual. You slowly take a few steps into the room and stop in the middle. You tremble slightly, your breathing is faster than usual and your hands fumble with the hem of your nightgown. "You ordered me into your bed." your voice trembles as you take a step towards his bed.

Cregans heart sinks, he is on his feet in a heartbeat. You flinch. "My sweet wife, no. I told you I would never do that." he says quickly. It was stupid of him, of course you would think he was ordering you into the marital bed.

"Oh I just thought. Because some time has passed since our wedding night. I thought you might be impatient."

"No. I just wanted to discuss something with you. Please sit down next to me." he points to the chair in front of the fireplace. The fire gives off pleasant heat, sweat forms on Cregan's forehead. However, you are shaking slightly. Cregan reaches for his cloak and puts it around your shoulders before sitting down himself again.

You smile. "Thank you husband." you whisper.

"I'm sorry about the misunderstanding. I just thought you might be able to offer me some advice."

You smile again and Cregan is happy about it. "I don't know if my advice is really useful."

He has to suppress a snort at your modesty. You handle your duties as Lady Stark flawlessly.

"I'm sure it is. And besides that, well." he interrupts himself, noticing the blush rising in his cheeks. "I've hardly had any time for you in the last few days. I'm sorry about that too. I wanted to spend time with you."

Your smile widens. "I've missed the time with you too." you whisper and Cregan's heart starts racing. You missed him. You shift back and forth, making yourself comfortable. "How can I help?"

He starts to describe the problems to you, the stubbornness of his lords, the lying about their supplies even though he knows full well that they have more than they admit. The arguments among themselves.

"Can't you force them to give up some of their stock?" you ask after listening carefully.

This time Cregan snorts, leans back a little in his chair. "And how am I supposed to do that?" Inciting Bannerman against Bannerman would only make things worse.

"Silverwing could help."

"No!" his tone is sharp, his voice too loud for the pleasant atmosphere. You flinch in shock, look at him with wide eyes before avoiding his gaze again.

You swallow. "I'm sorry. It was just an idea. My father always uses Caraxes to get his way." you whisper. Cregan leans forward, reaches for your hand. His heart stops while he waits to see if you pull your hand away. You don't, his fingers carefully wrap around yours.

"Using your Dragon would fulfill the purpose, but I don't want to intimidate my men with her. I don't want to rule with fire and blood."

You nod. "I understand. It was stupid of me."

"No." he shakes his head and gently strokes the back of your hand. "I just hope for a peaceful solution."

You straighten up a little. "Then let's look for a peaceful solution." You both start to brainstorm, but your conversation quickly drifts off. You talk about your childhood in Pentos, your days on Dragonstone and your siblings. Cregan manages to open up about his uncle, how he had to fight for his inheritance and for his rule.

It's good to be able to tell you all this, to have someone to confide in. Only when you yawn after every word and Cregan has trouble opening his eyes again after blinking do you decide to end the evening.

"I'm going back to my chambers then." you say and pull his cloak off your shoulders.

"I'll call a guard for you."

"No, please don't wake anyone up. I'll find the way myself," you say, but your look is uncertain. Cregan also has a bad feeling about letting you walk through half of Winterfell at night.

"Then I'll accompany you."

"Please, husband, don't make yourself so much trouble because of me. You're exhausted yourself and it's an unnecessary journey for you." you object.

Cregan looks at his bed, it's big enough for both of you. Arra has also spent most of her nights here.

"You could sleep here?" he suggests quietly. Your eyes dart to the bed and then to him. You swallow. "Not to fulfill your marital duties, just to sleep." Cregan quickly clarifies.

"What will people think?"

He has to suppress a laugh. "You're my wife, my lady. The people won't think anything."

Your cheeks turn slightly red again. "Right." you think for a moment and then pull your own cloak from your shoulders. Cregan has to look into the flames so that his gaze doesn't get stuck on the curves of your cleavage and he stares like an iron born. Only after you get comfortably under the furs and blankets of the bed he slips off his own clothes and lies down next to you, keeping a safe distance.

"Sleep well, sweet wife."

"Sleep well, husband."

When Cregan wakes up the next morning, you've already disappeared, but your side of the bed is still warm. He turns to the side, buries his face in your pillow and inhales your scent deeply. Cregan knows that you prefer to fly with Silverwing in the morning, so he doesn't worry.

He's tired, but he still throws himself into work.When he returns to his chambers late that evening, you are already sitting in the chair by the fireplace. You turn to him, your cheeks red, but you look him in the eyes. Your hands shake slightly as you hand him a cup of wine.

"I got it from Pentos. I told you about it yesterday." He nods. He's still surprised that you're sitting here, he can hardly believe it. Warmth flows through him and he can't wipe the smile from his lips. He slowly takes your wine and sits down opposite you. "We didn't find a solution to our problem with the Lords yesterday." if you plan to come to him in the evening until you've found a solution, he wish there wasn't one.

Three evenings later you are sleeping in his bed again, two weeks later you snuggle up in his arms before you go to sleep and in the morning you kiss his cheek before you set off to see your dragon. Cregan can hardly believe his luck. You open up a little more every day, now you reach for his hand yourself, brush strands of hair from his face, kiss his cheek, lean into his embrace.

But suddenly you start to close yourself off again. It started with you not waiting for him in his chambers one evening, you send a servant to excuse you for that night. He thought you might be sick. But you don't come the next day either, he doesn't see you all day. In the morning he sees Silverwing flying over Winterfell towards the south, the sun is already hanging low on the horizon in the evening when the dragon lands again in front of the castle gates. Cregan feels like you're slipping away from him again. His heart aches at the thought. Did he do something wrong? Was he rude to you without realizing it? Was the longed-for closeness you built up just in his head?

Neverless Cregan was able, or rather you were able, to settle the arguments between the Lords a little. From your place at the high table, you reminded them in a gentel voice that everyone only wanted the best for the North and how wonderful it is that the Northern Lords were fighting the winter together. A little lie that you told, a smile and even Lord Bolton's tense features softened. It's a step in the right direction.

You hardly give him a smile anymore. Cregan doesn't know what's wrong. He is frustrated and sad. In his mind he goes through every moment, looking to see if he has done something wrong. He doesn´t find an answer.

His steps lead him through the corridors of Winterfell, he wants to go to Rickon. Because of all the work and his spiraling thoughts about you, he hasn't visited his son much in the last few days.

He hears laughter from the nursery, recognizes Lady Selina and Lady Aly's voices. Without knocking, he opens the door. The two ladies flinch at their place in front of the fireplace, the conversation falls silent. They both jump up, curtsy briefly and greet him with a "My Lord Stark." Both Ladys exchange a nervous look, Creggan's stomach tightens. He has the feeling that something is wrong but he doesn´t know what it is.

"Papa." Rickon jumps up from the carpet, his toy dragon falls to the floor and he runs to him. Cregan bends down to his son and takes him in his arms.

"Leave us alone," he dismisses the ladies. He wants to spend a little time with his son, show him that he is important to him despite all the stress. Rickon should never think that his father doesn't love him. Alys and Selina leave the nursery. Cregan puts Rickon down again and sits down on the floor next to him. Rickon immediately has his toy figures in his hand again.

"Are you coming to play?" he asks and holds out the dragon figure to him, big eyes sparkle at him and a radiant smile is on his lips.

"Yes." Cregan answers and takes the dragon, it looks small in his hand.

"That's my favorite toy."

"Not the knight anymore?" Cregan laughs quietly.

"No, no." says Rickon in a serious voice, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "The dragon. It was a gift from my princess."

Now Cregan can't hold back his laughter. "Your princess?"

"Yes." Rickon nods.

"You mean my wife, my dear. You really like her a lot, don't you?"

"Yes, I like her a lot." suddenly his eyes turn sad and he rips the toy out of his father's hand, pressing it to his chest. Cregan frowns, wants to scold Rickon, but he is already speaking again. "But she doesn't like me anymore." his voice trembles. Cregan has to swallow at the sight, puts a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Why do you think that? She likes you a lot."

"But why doesn't she play with me anymore? She hardly ever comes to visit me. Only when the teacher is there. She doesn't want to play with me at all, she just wants to supervise my lessons." he sounds defiant, as only children can, and Cregan has to sigh. He doesn´t have a answer for his son.

Why are you behaving like this? You wanted to take care of him and you enjoyed it. You often told him how much you enjoyed spending time with his son, what a good boy he is. That you love him like he is your son. Cregan has a bad feeling. He knows that something is wrong, even if he can't quite put his finger on it.

The door opens and you step uncertainly into the room, your gaze wanders around the room and then stops at Cregan and Rickon. A radiant smile appears on your face.

"My Lord husband." you say and nod slightly. Cregan is glad that you have finally stopped curtsying to him. "I didn't know you were here." Is he imagining it or do you sound relieved? Cregan doesn't know how to react to you now. Lately you have been acting absent and distant, shy like at the beginning. At other times you grab his hand, lean on his arm or smile at him with sparkling eyes when he speaks. He can't figure you out. "Can I sit with you?" you whisper, tearing him out of his thoughts. He nods and you sink down onto the carpet next to him and Rickon. His son immediately demands your attention, happy that you want to spend time with him.

It takes a few moments, but then Cregan lets himself be lulled by the warm, happy atmosphere. In these moments he completely forgets the thought of you withdrawing from him again. The time with his family is good for him, that is exactly what he always wanted. A happy family, safe behind the walls of Winterfell.

However his little bubble of family happiness bursts just a few hours later when Lady Darcy enters.

"My Lord Stark." she curtsies to him. "I'm here to pick up Rickon for his bath."

"No, I don't want to!" Rickon calls out. A single stern look from Cregan is enough to silence him. He stands up and takes a few steps towards Darcy. "Can my princess take me to my bath?" he asks quietly. Darcy rolls his eyes, looks at you, just like Cregan. You look at Dracy and then shake your head.

"Go with Lady Darcy." you say quietly, is your voice shaking? Rickon doesn't contradict and follows the nursemaid out of the room. Cregan turns to you with a smile, maybe you two can finally spend a little time toghether again, but you don't meet his gaze. When he reaches for your hand, you pull it away and jump up.

"Excuse me." your voice is quiet and you storm out of the room. Were those tears in your eyes? Cregan shakes his head, no, that can't be. The light was probably just reflected. He sighs and tries to fight down his anger and hurt because of your rejection.

He paces back and forth in his chambers. You haven't shown up for your evening meeting again. What's keeping you away? He just has to talk to you, he wants to find out what is bothering you. Did he make a mistake? Worry spreads through him and he sets off to look for you. His steps quickly lead him up the many stairs to Lady Stark's chambers.

Your chambers lie deserted before him. Cregans heart sinks. Where are you? It's almost midnight. You should be here. Did something happen to you? He is looking around your chambers. The chambers of Lady Stark are traditionally located at the top of the North Tower. They are the warmest chambers in the castle. Perfect for a dragon like you. Sweat beads on Cregan's forehead, yet he searches the chambers for a clue.

He feels guilty about looking at your private things, but he has no choice. Maybe you are in danger. Nothing seems unusual. To be honest, he can't be sure, he is hardly ever in your chambers. It is your private area, but it seems as if you only have a few things here. That surprises Cregan a little.

He goes to your desk, it is covered with papers, scrolls and letters. He knows that you write a lot to your family, and that you receive a letter from at least one of your family members almost every week. Only your father doesn't write to you, you told him that.

His gaze flicks over the first line of the letter you had started.

Mother, please. It's so terrible here.

He reads the first words and his heart aches painfully. Is it his fault? Do you hate him?

My husband Cregan is everything I could wish for, kind, tender, and warm; he has such a big heart. I love him. But the problem are the maids of the late Lady Stak. I wrote to you that it doesn't seem like they like me. But now it's getting worse.

I tried to take care of Rickon. Just like you always took care of Baela, Rhena, and me. He is such a sweet boy. But the Ladies are so terribly mean. I know they were Lady Norrey's friends, but I don't understand how they can be so horrible. What did I do wrong? I don't understand how I could have upset them so much that they hate me.

They say terrible things to me, I don't want to repeat them. Even bad things about our family. The insults hurt so much. The worst thing is when they laugh at me. I feel so stupid when they do that.

I don't want Rickon to find out about this, so I stay away from him. It breaks my heart. I'm afraid to talk to Cregan. I don't want them to lose their last connection to Lady Arra.

Please, I can't take it anymore. I want to go home. Please let me come home.

On the pages, there are small dark spots where your tears have dripped onto the paper and smudged the ink.

Why didn't you tell him anything? Guilt overcomes him. He should have known, he should have noticed something.

Hot anger towards the Ladies rises within him. He would love to have them all executed.

A growl catches his attention. With two steps, he is at the window. The full moon illuminates the night outside, the snow reflects the light. He sees a slender figure walking across the fields outside the Keep. Silverswing's massive body rises from the snow as you run towards your dragon.

Cregan whirls around and sprints down the stairs. Fear and worry burn in his heart. He pushes the door outward a little too hard. The wood creaks as it slams against the stone walls. Every breath burns in his lungs as he inhales the cold air. Nevertheless, his steps do not slow down.

Silverwing whirls her head around before you notice him. At the sudden movement, you slip and one of the bags you were just about to attach to the saddle falls from your hand. A few of your clothes fall into the snow. Cregan realizes that you really were about to run away. Run away from him. His heart hurts by this thought. The next moment he remembers himself that you are not running away because of him.

He calls your name. You whirl around, your look like a startled deer.

"Cregan." you whisper. He recognizes tears in your eyes, tear stains on your cheeks, your eyes are slightly red

"What are you doing?" he asks, while he tries to catch his breath. Cregan tries to let his voice sound as soft as possible, you already look like you will faint for fear every moment.

"I wanted to visit Silverwing," you lie, your hands cramps around the leather of the saddle. Silverwing lets out a growl. Cregan needs all his strength not to jump back in fright.

"Please come down." he almost begs, he stands much too close to the dragon for his liking. Silverwing is very gentle. You once told him that. Nevertheless, the hundred-year-old monster can swallow him in one gulp.

You hesitate. "Go back inside," you say then, but you don't look at him.

"No." his voice is firm now. "Either you come down voluntarily or I'll come up and get you." it's not a bluff, if he has to he'll climb on that dragon to get you down. Even if Silverwing will probably tear him into pieces before he even gets close to you.

Silverwing stretches out her wing, the claws on her forefoot digging into the snow just a few steps in front of him. Is that a threat? You look at your dragon, then swing to the side and slide down the wing. Without thinking, Cregan moves closer and catches you. You wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer to him. Warm tears drip onto the skin at the crook of his neck. You sob, take a breath and try to say something, but only another desperate sound comes from your throat.

"I found your letter to the Queen." he admits. You tense up, wanting to pull away from him, but Cregan holds you tight. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want you to be angry."

Oh he is angry, but not at you. He would love to cut off the ladies' heads, but women are not executed in the North. The North is still a place of honor.

Now he lets go of you, pushes away slightly to look you in the face. He carefully wipes the tears from your cheek. You lean into his touch, sighs quietly and closes your eyes. Cregan leans forward and kisses your forehead.

"What did they say to you?" he then whispers.

You swallow, open your eyes before you start to speak. "At first it was just little taunts. But over time it got worse and worse. They said I would ruin the North, that many people would die next winter because of my stupidity." the tears come back to you eyes and you have to sob. Cregan pulls you into his arms again, strokes your hair as you bury your face in his chest.

"Those are lies. You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, you are a great Lady Stark."

"But that wasn't even the worst part. They also said that I am not good enough for you. That you only put up with me because you were forced to marry me. They said that you will never love me and that there is only room in your heart for Lady Arra, that she is your first and only love and I am just an intruder."

Cregan's heart breaks, he knows that you took the Nursemaids at their word. Again he pushes you away, carefully puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Those are lies too. Yes, I loved Arra. But that doesn't mean that I can't love you. You are not an intruder. I want you here with me."

Tears well up in your eyes again. "What about the Ladies?" you ask quietly, but keep eye contact.

"I will throw all three of them out first thing tomorrow morning. Let the Others get them, I don't care. Maybe Silverwing wants a little snack."

The dragon lowers its head to you, looks at Cregan as if she agrees.

"Rickon needs them."

"No. Rickon only needs me and you, his family." Cregan insists. His son will cope with the loss, he is sure of that.

"I would like to be your family."

Cregan has to smile at your words. "I love you, sweet wife." he whispers. Your lips open slightly as you look at him in surprise. Then you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him gently. His heart almost burst, butterflies explode in his stomach and despite the cold night he feels warm.

You sink back on your feet, your cheeks are red, but you smile. Silverwing blows hot air from her nostrils towards Cregan, he flinches back and you giggle.

"That means she likes you."

"And what about you? Do you like me too?" he asks, his lips twisting into a grin.

"I thought you read my letter to Rhaenyra." you say, also grinning."

Please say it anyway."

"I love you, my sweet husband." Cregan leans down and seals your lips with a kiss.

[verushkak70]

I got the way more practical justification, not inheritance - as if there's a manor to be born to in my family, hahaha! - probably for class reasons

What kills me is the utter presumptuousness of the "Who will take care of you when you're old??" response I get when I say I have no kids

Because

1) wtf, do I need kids as "free" (not really) labor to help me sow & plow & harvest & thresh & then take care of me when I'm too old to do all that? No I do not - we get our food at supermarkets, or the corner shop, or go to a restaurant, or delivered right to the house, or from the food cart on the corner etc etc - point is, we don't have to grow & harvest, fish for or hunt it down & kill & slaughter it ourselves anymore)

&

2) do you have ANY idea how many sick people I took care of in the ER, who had children, who did not come to them in the ER because they were unable/unwilling?? eg they live in another state/moved there for work/spouse; they're disabled themselves; they're in the military; they work a job where they don't have cell reception or can't have a cell phone on them 24/7; they're undomiciled addicts now; they hate/are estranged from their parent; their parent abused them as a child; they're off their meds & no one knows where they are; they predeceased their parent/the parent outlived the child/ren; they were kicked out & disowned by the parent for being LGBTQ+whatevs, etc etc

Used to be, you had kids for those 2 main self serving reasons (& the usual "perpetuation of the species" urge to procreate) - but all those reasons are obsolete

& if you do have kids? Yeah, and? So what?

You can "do everything right" & raise them right & not abuse them & they still won't necessarily be able to help you when you're old & infirm for all of the above reasons

So cultivate your friend network & chosen family, be kind to neighbors & strangers (for those angels you entertain unawares may just be your only help when you need it) & ffs don't be an asshole to your kids (& by that I do not mean give them everything they want/ask for, or try to be their friend - you're the adult, you can't reason with a 3 year old (their brain literally has not developed abstract reasoning yet) - I mean don't use/abuse them emotionally, sexually, psychologically, or physically; don't live your life through them; don't try to right the wrongs of your childhood through them; don't divide & conquer them if you have more than one; don't helicopter/smother them & cause them to be dependent/helpless/ineffectual; don't treat them like they're your prince/ss & you're their servant & then wonder why they don't help you when you need it, etc etc)

On the first day of pediatric nursing in nursing school, my pediatric nursing instructor said: your job, as a parent, is to teach your kids how to live without you

You could've heard a pin drop

It was clear no one (in a classroom of 90+% females) had ever considered this before -

and for shame, really; how is it that squirrels & rabbits & coyotes & foxes & deer know to do this & humans don't?

The point is, parenting is teaching your kids how to get along in life when you're gone - not how to take care of you when you're old -

because you can count on the former but not on the latter

Above all, do not place all your "when I'm old..." eggs in the "but, I have kids" basket

You don't yet know what life has in store for you or for the hypothetical kids

You could have child/ren & still not have someone to care for you when you're old

Trust me - I saw that a lot - constantly, actually

& anyone who tells you that you 'need to' have kids, you have my permission to tell them:

"really? because this ex-ER RN* on Tumblr said... [all of the above]"

& carry on with your child free life

(Or, you know, just rec they watch S1 True Detective... & Matthew McConaughey will lay it all out for them by way of writer Nic Pizzolatto's plagiarism of Thomas Ligotti (& yeah I'm calling it plagiarism because that's what it was in spirit, if not by the letter of the law)

*I'm still an RN, lol! - just not ER

The older generation's fixation on forcing you to have kids is something they absolutely refuse to unlearn. You can give the calmest and most reasonable explanation for not having kids and the only thing they can think to say is, "But what of the heir to the lands?" "Who will inherit the throne?" "Please sire upon your barren death there will be a parochial schism that will soak our soils with brother-blood." They literally hate to see you happy with just a cat.

[three-realms-archive]

Biggest Crush

Summary/Details: MC sees someone on TV that they haven’t seen in a while, and the brothers react accordingly. Fluffy and light, all brothers included!

You didn’t mind being squished in between Mammon and Beelzebub on the sofa for the weekly movie night. The former took the opportunity to not-so-subtly snuggle into your side, whilst the latter held a comically-large bowl of popcorn; eighty-percent of which was probably for himself. The movie you watched was some old film that the brothers’ apparently had some nostalgia for, but could only be found on DevilTube. Inevitably, this meant an advertisement would play every so often; and your eyes lit up as a familiar demon flashed up on screen.

“Woah, it’s Darkfang! Yo…” you said, tossing some of Beel’s popcorn into your mouth. The sixth-born simply smiled, content at seeing your cheeks so adorably full, as you continued. “He was the first Devildom idol I ever got into!”

A few noises and hums of acknowledgement came from the brothers. On the TV screen, Darkfang flashed a handsome, cocky smile, winking at the viewer as he showed off what you assumed to be a new fashion line. You feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

“Y’know,” you began, voice slightly muffled as you chewed, “I had, like, the biggest crush on him back when I first got here.”

Silence, this time.

Lucifer tensed up. Leviathan peered up from his D.D.D for the first time that evening, with an imperceptible yelp. Satan balled his fists in his lap to stay composed. Asmo bit his lip. Beel stopped eating. Belphegor’s tail thrashed against the carpet.

Mammon’s grip on you was getting a little tight.

“Hey, Mam’. You mind squeezing a bit lighter?” You say nonchalantly, eyes focused completely on the movie, which had started up again after the advert had finished.

Little did you know, no one was paying attention to the movie anymore.

Instead, each brother replayed the advert in their mind; determined to one-up their new competition.

_

Later that week, something strange happened around the House of Lamentation.

Well. Strange things always happened… but this was different.

Suddenly, everyone was into idols. You caught Asmo and Levi studying idol performances more intensely than you had ever seen them study for an exam. Beel had even joined them for dancing practice each morning - complete with synchronised singing and chanting. You could hear the commotion from your room, and it now served as your alarm.

You figured this fascination with idol culture was what got Satan, Belphegor and Mammon in the music room every day after school. They didn’t know you knew, but it was pretty hard to miss when Mammon’s cries of ‘we sound so much better than that idiot!’ rang throughout the halls, accompanied by the rather-hideous combination of sounds from an electric guitar, a classical piano, and a cowbell.

Then, there was Lucifer. You tiptoed quietly into his study one evening, intending to remind him to get some rest. Instead, you found Lucifer sound asleep, his head on his desk… and a poster of Darkfang nestled under his cheek. Beside it were notes - meticulous, handwritten notes - with various facts you recognised about Darkfang’s height, weight, workout routine, diet… even his favourite pie flavour?

“Oh my Diavolo… I never guessed they’d all become Darkfang fans!” You whisper excitedly, blissfully ignorant to the brothers’ true motives. “I’ll start watching him on TV more often.”

(i’m probs gonna start doing more comedy amongst the angst storm lol. a lot of family friends way younger than me recently got into kpop, and i started watching and looking back at old idols i liked - especially vocaloid and kpop idols that gained popularity around the bts wings era. feel free to share any idols you guys liked as a kid/teen!)

[snuffysnuffles]

How did all of the parents meet? This might be a doozy… I’m mostly curious about the Stokes parents. Something about them gives off Christian highschool sweethearts vibes that married immediately after graduating.

Great question! Stories below!!!

vvvv

> Jerry’s dad was the ultimate high school dork, the kind of guy who spent lunch organizing his baseball cards. His mom? A really popular cheerleader, always surrounded by friends and way out of his league. But somehow, she ended up sitting next to him in class and sweet-talking him into doing her homework. Turns out, they both loved baseball, and that was all it took. One game, one shared pack of peanuts, and suddenly that massive dork wasn’t so invisible anymore. They got each other promise rings and married after high school.

> Pete’s dad wasn’t exactly looking for love at the strip club, he was just… there. A lot. His mom was one of the dancers, rolling her eyes at guys like him but taking his tips anyway. Somehow, they kept running into each other, and one night, instead of a lap dance, they ended up sharing cheap wings and talking until closing time. Maybe it was a weird accident, or maybe they were both just a little lonely, but that one night turned into Tony. (First born / oldest) the rest kind of followed after that, they decided to start dating and eventually get married. Not a single pregnancy was planned, that’s all ima say.

> Bill’s dad had a way with words, and his mom had never been sweet-talked before. At the office Christmas party, he cornered her by the punch bowl and laid it on thick, told her she was the prettiest girl in the building, and she just melted. She wasn’t used to that kind of attention, and by New Year’s, they were practically inseparable. Marriage came fast, and kids even faster. But somewhere along the line, the charm wore off (mostly due to their kids fucking up everything). His dad packed up one day and moved far away, calling just often enough to remind them he still existed.

> Josh’s parents met the way most people don’t.. just bumping into each other at the airport. His mom dropped her bag, and his dad helped pick it up. Casual. They started talking while waiting at the gate, realizing they had both graduated college a few years ago and still had no clue what they were doing with their lives. It was one of those long, meandering conversations that felt too good to stop, so they just… didn’t. They missed their flights and ended up sitting in the airport cafe, swapping stories about odd jobs and big dreams. A few months later, they reconnected, and eventually, Josh came along.

Hope you liked reading! Asks r still open!

(Also I’m really bad at backgrounds, spare me 💔)

[ultravjiolencee]

Can i request a fred weasley with maybe a reader from black family that doesn’t really like christmas? thank u so much!! (they’re not relatives and kinda in a relationship)

Weasley Warmth Delivery

a.n! thanks for requesting and sorry if this took me this long, but to be honest i still feel into christmas mood. i tried this new ‘format’ of exchanging letters! mention of my previous work

Dear y/n,

Well, look at that—a letter from Black. To what do I owe this honor? Boredom finally driving you mad in that haunted house of yours? Don’t worry, love, I’ve been expecting it.

Grimmauld Place isn’t exactly the Ministry of Fun, is it? And without me around to liven up the place, well, I’m amazed you lasted this long before reaching out.

First, let me set the scene for you here at the Burrow: total chaos, as usual. Mum’s been running around like a bludger on a sugar high, barking orders about decorating and cleaning things that were perfectly fine before she started. Ginny keeps nicking the fairy lights off the tree to “improve” her room (I think she’s trying to charm them to spell out something rude for Ron), and Percy’s been giving us all his patented look of disapproval. Honestly, I think he was born with that expression.

George and I, naturally, have been hard at work testing a few of our newest products. Let’s just say the garden gnomes had a very eventful morning and leave it at that.

But, enough about the Burrow, it’s too normal compared to what I’m imagining for you. I bet Grimmauld Place is a real barrel of laughs this time of year. Bet you’ve got Kreacher croaking out festive insults like, “Filthy blood traitor scum don’t deserve gingerbread.” Or maybe you’ve charmed those gloomy curtains shut tight so you don’t have to look at your delightful family tree. Is my name still scorched off that thing, by the way? If not, I’ll send George over to fix that. It’s our legacy, after all.

I wish I could say I don’t worry about you being there all by yourself, but you know me—I don’t do lying very well. (Or at all, according to mum. But then again, she doesn’t always appreciate my particular brand of honesty.) You’ve got that whole independent, “I don’t need anyone’s help” thing going on, and I get it. I do. But I can’t help wishing you’d pop over to the Burrow for Christmas. Mum would adore you, I promise. Well, she’d probably scold you for being “too thin” first, but that’s just part of the package deal. Once she’s fed you a month’s worth of food in two days, she’ll be absolutely besotted.

And before you go claiming I’m trying to recruit you to our family, let me clarify: yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because family doesn’t have to be the lot you were born with.

You’ve got us now, whether you like it or not.

Now, enough of this sappy nonsense. You’ll start thinking I’m losing my edge. Let’s talk about important things—like me. Did I mention George and I managed to sneak a prototype of our newest invention past Mum? It’s called the “Crackling Cauldron Cake,” and it’s exactly as dangerous as it sounds. You bite into it, and it pops like a small Firework Charm in your mouth. George claims it’s “too risky for mass production,” but I say he’s lost his Gryffindor nerve. (He was almost a Hufflepuff, you know. Don’t tell him I told you that.)

Oh, and speaking of risky ventures—have you heard from the “adorable” bunch at Hogwarts? Lee says everyone’s still whispering about us switching ties that morning. Apparently, there’s now a theory that we were secretly meeting in the Forbidden Forest for mysterious reasons. Honestly, they’re creative. I’ll give them that. Maybe we should encourage the rumors. Keep them on their toes, you know?

Alright, I should wrap this up before the owl starts biting me again. (Did you train this thing to attack, or is that just a natural Black family trait?) But seriously, don’t be a stranger. Owl me again, even if it’s just to complain about how miserable it is without me around. I’ll write back—promise. And if you’re feeling really brave, you’re always welcome here. I’ll even let you beat me at Wizard’s Chess again, just to keep things festive.

Take care of yourself, alright? And if Grimmauld Place starts feeling too cold, just think of this letter as a little Weasley warmth delivered right to your doorstep.

Yours (because I’ve decided you’re mine to pester now),

Fred

P.S. If you don’t write back soon, I’m sending George over to prank your front door. You’ve been warned ;)

[aliteralchicken]

Correcting things I’ve seen people get wrong and lie about Stephanie’s pregnancy and her ex boyfriend because its slowly becoming its own fanon: (tw: for teen pregnancy)

Tim is not the father, I can’t stress enough how Tim is very much not the father, the father is her ex boyfriend Dean

We don’t know when they got together but Stephanie was dating Dean up until cataclysm, meaning she was attempting to cheat on him with Robin (though unsuccessfully) Dean wasn’t cheating on her

Although we don’t know if she dated them officially it’s implied Steph had more than one unnamed partner before Dean, he’s not her first boyfriend

Dean is not an old man, he’s a teenager, though Stephanie does have trauma related to older men (her babysitter Murray) and a very creepy uncle named Dave

Dean didn’t leave because of the pregnancy, he left because of the earthquake, Steph explicitly says that she didn’t tell him

Dean does eventually find out about the baby, though a significant amount of time after it’s already been given up, but didn’t know if it was his or not until he asks her

Steph didn’t beat Dean up because of the baby, she very explicitly says he’s not the one she’s mad at (she was mad at Tim) Steph also beats up another teenager Tito for the same reason

The sex was underage (Steph was 15) and unprotected but it was consensual, Dean was said to be a jerk but he was never harmful

Stephanie was always very against the idea of getting an abortion and would get very angry if anyone suggested it

Stephanie went to birthing classes (with Tim in his Alvin Draper disguise), she also saw a councillor at Gotham county social services, though temporarily, was able to homeschool and take her books home and had her mom supporting her completely

Steph declined an agency offering her money for a healthy baby, it’s unclear how many others she went to but the one she settled on was “st. Swithins”

Although she did consider keeping her own baby Stephanie didn’t have very high opinions of teen mothers, she called her classmate Cynda Reed, who unlike Steph had already had her baby and was raising it, a “raging moron” telling Cyndas (quite naive) friends who were trying to be supportive they were also morons and should wise up (she also later calls them stupid)

During the labor Steph lost a lot of blood and the doctors struggled to stop the bleeding, she had to have her baby via c section, although it’s never shown in comic she would likely have a scar

Steph asked not to know the anything about the baby after it was born, but during war games she says the baby was a girl, its never stated when she was told, if ever, it’s possible she’s guessing the gender or that she asked Tim at a later date

the baby is never named, I’ve seen people say this panel is Steph asking Tim to help name the baby, it’s not, she’s asking him to hug her

What cemented the decision of giving up the baby was a nightmare she had while unconscious during labour, where her father took her baby with other rouges in order to introduce it to a life of crime and put it in danger

the actual baby is never shown on panel, only on a cover, so it’s possible she grew up to look like Dean rather than the copy paste blonde hair and blue eyed child Stephanie dreamed about

[tuesday-teyz]

Butterfly Reign chapter 40 😧

Hi!

First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love Butterfly Reign—your writing is incredible, and I’ve been absolutely hooked from the start. I think I started reading when there were only about 10 chapters out, which feels like a lifetime ago!

I just finished chapter 40, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the direction the story took, particularly regarding Theseus and Wilbur. Their relationship has been such a complex and emotional journey, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing them work through their issues. Honestly, it’s crazy to think back to when I first started reading, and how I would’ve been rooting for Theseus to get his revenge, but now, with everything that’s happened, I didn’t expect the story to take such a tragic turn.

While I’m still deeply invested in the story, I’m curious about a few things—particularly the choice to have Wilbur die. I’ve been wondering, how long have you had this planned? I noticed the MCD tag from the beginning, so I’m wondering if this was always the direction you intended to take their characters or if it evolved as the story developed?

I’d also love to know your thoughts on Theseus’s actions here (without giving away any spoilers ofc). In the context of the story (obviously not condoning murder in real life 😭), do you think Theseus did what he had to do? Do you see him as someone who is still redeemable, or do you think that this was a mistake in his journey? I ask because, even though I’ve been the number one Theseus defender (his rights and wrongs) throughout the story, I found myself struggling with this moment. It’s the first time I’ve felt so conflicted about his character. I’m really curious about your perspective as the author, especially when it comes to the moral complexities in his decision.

Thank you so much for sharing this story— and I can’t wait to see what comes next! (even though i'm not yet willing to except that it shall continue BR!crimboys-less) at least give me hope for Br!discduo if nothing else

Hi, thank you for the ask, it made my morning!

To answer your questions, it's a little complex when exactly the decision came about. In my original outline back in 2022, this whole scene did not actually involve any fire. Instead, it was Theseus and Fundy stranded on the lake as ice begins to crack. Wilbur gets Fundy to safety first, and then when he comes back for Theseus, they fall through. From there on, there were two versions of this scene that I fluctuated between: one, Wilbur cuts the rope connecting them and lets himself drown, and two, the same happens but both of them get saved by a third outside force. This is followed up by Wilbur falling into a coma and being absent for the rest of the fic, sans the epilogue where we see him awake. Simply put, it was never my plan for Wilbur to be present in the final arc; he simply has no place there. His story was always meant to end in this chapter.

However, as time went on, I realized that using a coma is a very cheap (for the lack of a better word) way to write off a character, and his death by sacrifice did not feel right. As I mentioned in another post, br!Wilbur was, off and on, for nearly a decade, br!Tommy's abuser. To have someone who caused so much pain for him die saving him didn't sit right with me. Tommy was working for so long on accepting his past and unlearning the behaviors Wilbur brought up in him that it felt like an injustice and a poor message besides to basically say 'oh well he loved you at the end of the day'. And exploring his death from the point of view Tommy being relieved by it and feeling guilty at the same time is too repetetive of the story itself from when Wilbur ran away the first time. That's when the decision for Tommy to kill Wilbur was born.

So short answer: Wilbur's story was always meant to end at this moment. The idea for murder hatched during the travel arc.

I could not tell you exactly when did I realize that the plot was heading towards Tommy killing Wilbur, but I very firmly stand by the point that it's something that has been brewing up in the background unbeknownst even to me. The thing, Tommy has always been a killer. You have always known him as one (Clara was killed by him 3 years into the past), even though you didn't know his full backstory. An important part of this arc in its entirety is that it's Tommy unpacking and healing from the trauma he experienced 6 to 3 years ago. When Tommy gets sick and Wilbur takes care of him – that's 11 year old Tommy getting closure from Wilbur leaving him behind, and trading their family for the life of a commoner and a family of his own. It's not about them learning to be different in the future; it's about them mending the past. At no point at all this was meant to be about redeeming Wilbur.

Off to the next question: was this necessary? Did Tommy do what he had to?

Not at all. I address that in the chapter itself. I believe it's three different times that an image of Clara tells that Tommy must do it, meaning kill Wilbur, but the only time Tommy voices that thought himself (after the dialogue with Warden), the must changes to can. It's him taking agency over his own choices and acknowledging that he has this option and it's his decision to proceed with it. He tells Wilbur not to make excuses for him for Clara's death, knowing he's about to commit the same crime again.

As to how to feel about his actions – that's entirely up to you. You're not meant to feel a certain way about any of the characters, and especially not Tommy, but I am curious to hear your guys' thoughts and analysis. What do you think?

[hypotonuseisguud]

i know you've been anxiously waiting (no you haven't)....

FREIGHT GANG HEADCANONS!!

this is honestly gonna be like half funny headcanons and the rest will probably just be me trying to figure out family dynamics and lore so be prepared !

- Momma isn't the biological mother of any of the gang except Rusty. She had adopted Porter and Lumber while they were still trainlets, then she gave birth to Rusty. Once Porter and Lumber were old enough to help themselves more, Momma decided to take in foster children. One of the children she housed was Slick and after hearing about her experiences with the foster care system she adopted her. Slick was around 12 at the time. Then, around 6 months before the events of the musical, Hydra was dropped off at the Troubadour yard and she took him in.

- Currently, Porter is 21, Lumber is 20, Hydra is 19, and Rusty and Slick are 18. This doesn't include their physical ages or manufacturing dates, this is more based on emotional maturity.

- Rusty and Slick are the only two in the family that were born naturally, the rest having been manufactured.

- Porter is the tallest of all of them, not including Momma, the next being Hydra, then Lumber and Rusty, and Slick being the shortest. She is only shorter than Porter by 4 inches or so.

- After the crash with Greaseball and Electra, Slick suffered severe hearing loss and learned British Sign Language. She eventually got hearing aids but still regularly uses BSL. She and Momma taught the boys the basics and they're still learning.

- Rusty has hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome and I consider his rust to be eczema.

- Hydra's wheels are inlines!! They were originally quads, but once he and Rusty became racing partners he switched to inlines. The main reason he switched, besides thinking they look cool, it so he could be faster to compensate for the size and weight of his tank. He still has his quad foot attachments for workdays where he needs more stability, but he prefers his inlines.

- Porter has ADHD and has severe mood swings and shifts because of it. #manicadhdgang

- Lumber has a weird amount of talents. He's memorized all of the original Cards Against Humanity cards, he is unnaturally good at every online shooter he plays, he can draw, paint, and sculpt beautifully, and so much more. It's because he also has ADHD and he is just really good at everything he fixates on.

- In the freight shed there are two to a room. Momma has her own room, Rusty and Slick share a room, Porter and Lumber share a room, and Hydra is on the couch but Momma lets him keep his stuff in her room. Rusty had originally volunteered to let Hydra take his bed but Hydra and Slick both expressed their distaste towards that idea. Hydra was scared of her and she didn't like him at first.

- Once Porter and Lumber turned 19 and 18, Porter wanted to move out and get a place together to give Momma and their siblings more space, but Momma convinced them to stay so they could save and get a better shed than they were planning. She just didn't want her boys to leave yet :(

- I like to pretend that the way the freight gang were speaking to Rusty about not being able to race was a lot more sarcastic. They weren't actually trying to discourage him, just more of a picking on him as a way of reverse psychology to let him know that they do believe in him. It obviously didn't work out that way.

- Slick can literally take a nap anywhere

- Cuddle piles regularly occur, especially in the summer and winter. Rusty and Momma are their personal space heaters and Hydra is their cooling pack.

[bunni3bab]

So I really like body horror, and I thought it was a shame that Pressure can't go more in depth about the whole turning an innocent man into a killer fish thing, so i thought this would be funny.

In all seriousness, the first few chapters are light but im going to go into gross detail about how Sebastian's magical girl fish transformation happened and it's not pretty.

This is going to be focused on Sebastian's time in Urbanshade and explore a lot of his character angst 👍

Growing Pains

Chapter One: Entering Jaws

“...I'm here on account of a company called Urbanshade. Ever heard of it?”

Sebastian shook his head.

“Good, you're not supposed to...”

Sebastian was falsely convicted for a crime he didn't commit. Backed into a corner and faced with a pending execution, he's offered a way out.

This first chapter is real light for the most part but just in case, this chapter has mentions of: One singular corpse, prisoner mistreatment, isolation, very light injury mentions towards the end. The next chapters are only going to get worse so proceed with caution.

Nine people were murdered, all in a similar style. Their names were grouped together, unfamiliar faces smiling in photos they had taken before their ultimate demise.

It was a horrible tragedy, really. The news had surprised him, as the neighborhood Sebastian lived in was relatively safe. He had been born and raised in the area. This sort of thing was unheard of.

He sent his regards to the families, he truly did. 

He just didn't understand why he had to be held accountable for it.

Sebastian didn't know them. He had nothing to do with them. When he was sat down in the interrogation room with their faces staring at him from files they had slapped down on the table, he was left speechless and confused. He tried his best to answer their questions. He had never been involved with the police before. He had never been in legal trouble before. Their accusatory questions and dehumanizing stares nearly made him question if he had killed nine people and somehow forgot about it. But he still stayed as strong as he possibly could be. He insisted over and over, “I didn’t do it.” 

But his explanations fell on deaf ears. He was in the area, he didn't have a solid alibi, and his family didn't have enough money for a good lawyer.

Sebastian would admit it, it looked bad— but it wasn't him.

Time stopped when he received the death penalty. Months’ worth of paperwork and planning all meant to try and get him back home to his normal life were thrown away in an instant. No matter how much he begged and pleaded, the decision had been made, and he was powerless against it. His family, his career, his future— it all meant nothing to them, not when they were convinced he was a murderer. The situation was so ridiculous, so unbelievable, he found himself still in denial some days.

He wasn’t due for his execution for at least another fifteen years, he had been told. It took a long while for these things to get finalized. It tormented him. Rather than just putting him out of his misery, they were hanging the reaper over his head. He spent every night going to bed, in his dark cell, thinking about the fact that this is what his future looked like for the rest of his life- the life they let him have. His best moments were managing to stay calm under the harsh treatment he faced from the guards, his worst were in those late nights where he had nothing to distract himself from this harsh reality. His eyes would be crusted with dry tears. The red puff from crying battled the weighted eye bags in which one wanted to be more painfully obvious. He would be dead before he’d ever get the chance to hit 40, a fact that didn’t sit right with him. He used to think of those years as something so far into the future that it was out of his reach, but now it felt so close. Too close. 

He was never one to think too heavily about what his future looked like. He knew what he wanted, but he was open to anything as long as he was happy. Maybe he’d continue pursuing engineering and get a good career out of it, maybe not. Maybe he’d continue playing the guitar and writing songs he’d never have the courage to share, maybe not. He knew that’s what he wanted currently, but how was he to say if that would be the case 10 or 20 years from now. At least he wouldn’t ever have to worry about that, he thought bitterly. Now he knew for a fact that he was going to be a dead man. 

The sins of a crime he didn’t commit weighed heavily on him every day. Despite not being the one to spill it, the blood stained much more than just his reputation. He wore cuffs every second of the day. In the exercise yard, in the shower, it didn’t matter. Not unless he was in his cell, not that he left it often. He wasn’t allowed out of the claustrophobic thing unless he was showering or exercising.

Or if his mother was visiting him. He tried his best to stay positive for her. She always looked one second from breaking. She flashed him that same wavering smile. He had gotten familiar with it over the years, especially after his dad’s death. Despite his protests, she never stopped masking her troubles behind a positive attitude. Before, he took comfort in knowing he could at least help her out financially to take some of the stress off of her shoulders. He felt so helpless now sitting across from her, unable to do anything with glass separating them. 

She’d give him updates on how his siblings were doing. She’d tell him about how Callum was getting interested in computer science, which was ironic considering he claimed he wanted to get into more “exciting jobs” like acting when he was younger.. She’d happily rave about Mira’s promotion at work. She handled the aquatic life at a nearby zoo. He used to tease her for being an animal nerd, but he never stopped her from sharing her knowledge on strange and obscure fish. 

His mother always made sure to let him know that they were waiting for him. She never lost hope that Sebastian would be let go.

“They’ll realize this is all one huge mistake. Everyone knows you’d never commit such crimes.”

She visited him frequently. His sister did sometimes too, though she could never quite look him in the eyes. His mom always insisted that Mira didn’t think he was guilty, but Sebastian never believed it. How could he when she had that disapproving frown on her face the whole time. 

Callum never visited. Too busy focusing on his schoolwork, he was told. He appreciated his mom’s efforts of shielding his feelings, but sometimes he wished she would just be honest with him.

His days cycled the same. Eat, work out, shower, eat, sleep, eat, see his mom, shower, eat. But one day, there was a change that interrupted his daily admiration of the cold stonewall time. He had a visitor, an unexpected one. He was hoping it was his mom visiting at a strange time, or his brother finally choosing to see him. Imagine his disappointment when he found a man in a clad suit sitting at the table instead.

The man's hair was comically slicked back, and there was not a single crease on his suit to be found. He flashed Sebastian a bright smile as he was cuffed to the table, like he was catching up with an old friend rather than talking to a death row inmate.

“Sebastian Solace, I've heard so much about you.” He adjusted his papers. Sebastian caught sight of a printed-out news article about his arrest. The man winked. “All bad things, unfortunately, but don't you worry. I like to keep an open mind. You seem like a good kid, intelligent too,” he chuckled, “I mean…nine people, in such a short amount of time? That must have taken a lot of planning to pull off. I see a lot of sickos here, but this one certainly takes the cake.” When Sebastian only stared at him, the man put up his hands in defense. “But hey, I get it, mistakes happen.”

Sebastian swallowed in an attempt to combat his dry throat, “I didn't do it.”

He laughed, “I've heard that one before, but that's neither here nor there. Whether you're actually the culprit means nothing to me. All I care about is what’s written on paper, and as long as it reads that you’re guilty, you're looking at the electric chair. Not for a long while, of course, but you will eventually. I bet that’s just eating you up inside, isn’t it?”

Sebastian clenched his fists. 

“I'll take that as a yes. That's unfortunate, you know, you're still so young.” The man leaned forward as he carefully studied Sebastian's face. He couldn't bring himself to look at him. He was trapped in a never-ending loop of shame and anger, neither quite winning.

Shame because Sebastian was at his absolute lowest. Shame because of his helplessness. Shame because of how his name has been smeared beyond recognition. It swallowed him whole. Its gentle waves lulled him into a false sense of security, slowly dissolving any argument against his predicament.

Oh, but anger, it stuck around like a pestilence. Its flames reignited every time shame tried to drip too close. It refused to quiet down.

You're innocent, it reminded. This is unfair, it insisted. You need to do something.

Sebastian let his head hang, his cuffs coming into view. The chilled metal caused his arms to shiver slightly, and goosebumps to peppered his arms. Or maybe it was because of the man's scrutinizing gaze, Sebastian wasn't sure.

When the man found whatever he was looking for, he sat back, “Lucky you, you have another chance.”

Sebastian brought his attention back to the man in front of him, wondering what kind of sick joke he was trying to set up.

“…what?”

“You seem skeptical. There's no tricks here, friend. I'm Jackson Barlowe, and I'm here on account of a company called Urbanshade. Ever heard of it?”

Sebastian shook his head.

“Good, you're not supposed to,” he winked, “we handle a lot of boring legal and monetary issues, nothing you’d care for. But they’re interested in you.” Barlowe slid a packet across the table. The cover had some sort of strange eye logo taking up the center space. 

Urbanshade: For the better of the Modern World.

“They’re interested…in me?”

“Well don’t let it get to your head there, pal, they just need more volunteers. That’s all this is, really, volunteer work. But, it does have one key perc I think you’ll enjoy. You’ll get out of death row.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened. Hope glimmered in his heart for a moment, but it was shortly lived as he reminded himself that there had to be a catch. This was too good to be true. There’s no way a company would be able to keep him alive as long as he did simple volunteer work.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, that’s the whole deal.”

“There’s always a catch.”

Barlowe chuckled and turned his head. He looked like he was mentally debating something, “I never said the volunteer work would be fun. You’re going to be expected to do whatever they say at the drop of a hats’ notice. And you’ll still be a prisoner. Cells, cuffs, limited privileges, the whole package. I’m not exactly handing you a paradise here, but it ain’t death, and that’s more than what you got now.”

“What’s the volunteer work?”

“Ah, minor stuff mostly. You’ll have to answer questions for research, test a few equipment pieces, that sort of thing.”

Sebastian tried to hold back his skepticism, he was in no position to bargain after all, but he was never quite good at holding his tongue. “What happens when they don’t need me anymore? For…volunteer work, I mean. Will I ever be able to go home?”

Barlowe took in a deep breath and stroked his trimmed beard. He thought for a long while before responding, “Anything is possible. Urbanshade is pretty flexible with these things, if you can imagine. You behave well and you’ll see your family again. That is what this is about, yeah? You miss your folks?”

He almost laughed, “Is that even a question?”

“What a family man. Well then, Sebastian, at the risk of losing my job,” Barlowe leaned in close and whispered, “Urbanshade has been known to pardon some lucky souls before. Play your cards right and that could be you. You’ll be happy to know that they work fast too. They might not need you for long. In just a year or two, you could be walking out of there a free man.”

Sebastian internally battled with himself. On one hand, the man’s words were unnervingly vague. Barlowe never guaranteed anything, this whole deal was a big game of luck and chance for Sebastian. But what other choice did he have? He couldn’t continue to waste his life here, waiting to succumb to death. He hated going to sleep on his cold and hard bed in his cramped cell. He hated spending most of his day thinking about what he could’ve been doing had he not been caught up in this mess. 

But more than any of that, he hated not only being able to see his family for a limited time through glass. He missed helping his mother cook. He missed annoying Mira while she was trying to study or playing video games with Callum. He missed seeing them happy- genuinely happy. He hated the fake smile his mom put up to make him feel better. He hated the look of shame across Mira donned. And strangely enough, he hated that he hadn’t even gotten to see a disgraced look upon Callum’s face. He didn’t care if it was a glare, bottling up all of the world’s hatred and wrath, he wanted to be given the chance to see him at least.

“You can always decline the offer and bite the bullet now, if you prefer those chances, of course. Maybe death row is more comfy than I’m giving it credit for.”

Right, “offer”, Sebastian thought bitterly. “Offer” implied that there was a choice, like he had any room to say no. It was pretty obvious what he wanted to do— what he had to do. Not only for himself, but for his family. 

The man slid a pen over as Sebastian flipped through the packet. It was full of a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo. The information was decorated in fancy language Sebastian wasn’t familiar with. His grip on the paper tightened, creasing the sides. It wasn't a matter of deciding, but rather finding the will to pick up the pen and sign his name on the dotted line, that made the process so difficult. He felt his pride wilt away with every draw of the line, and he couldn't keep his eyes open when he went to dot the “i”. Hope resided in his chest. He had gone this far, he could keep going.

He’d make it home, and his mother would understand, she always did. From the time that he broke her favorite flowerpot, to the moment he was arrested.

“You're a good boy, Sebastian. The rest of the world may have forgotten that, but don't let yourself, for even a moment, doubt it.”

Barlowe collected the papers and pen, “You made the right choice, Solace.”

He certainly hoped he did. 

Barlowe wasn’t lying when he said Urbanshade worked quickly. The moment Sebastian had finished his meeting, he was transported to the back of a truck. A bag was placed over his head for the whole drive. For privacy reasons, he was told.

The drive was long and difficult. His cuffs would dig into his skin every time the truck took a turn and set him off balance. The bag smelt like it had been sitting in a basement its whole life, and it was incredibly itchy. Some of the loose ends would get tangled in his outgrown hair from time to time. He wasn't alone either, there were armed men in there with him. He knew that because he could hear them adjust their hold on their guns periodically.

He tried his hardest to keep a steady breath, fighting against the dizziness that consumed his system. He couldn’t help but be on edge. The knowledge that several guards were surrounding him, ready to aim if he stepped out of line, had his tied down limbs shaking. He tried to focus on the cold sweat dripping down his forehead to keep from spiraling down into a panic. 

When the truck finally stopped, he was blindly dragged out. Sebastian couldn't make out where he was. The air stunk of fish and salt. The sound of water splashing echoed throughout. By the time he was finally freed from the bag, he was already being shoved inside of what he assumed was a submarine. 

He wasn't the only one there. There were other prisoners, all heavily strapped down. There wasn't a single part of their bodies that wasn't tied down, and bags were placed over their heads. The top half was made of mesh, allowing them to state at Sebastian silently. The bottom half was a white plastic, what purpose it served, he wasn't sure.  Some of them had “high risk prisoner” stamped on their suit in red ink.

“High risk?” Sebastian mumbled to himself.

A guard, dressed from head to toe in sleek black body armor, gripped him by the shoulder.

“I wouldn't stress about it, just try to keep your space and you'll be fine.” He laughed as he shoved Sebastian into an empty seat, and began to fasten the restraints. 

They were needlessly tight, the one wrapping around his stomach left little room for air. Sebastian's breaths were shallow, his abdomen trying its best to fight against the strap. His breaths only became more shaky once the guard went to place a white bag over his head.

“Don't take it personal, kid. We have to do this to all of you regardless of behavior. Protocol and all.” His words went in one ear and out the other as the bag was placed over his head. 

Sebastian could only focus on the pounding sound of his heartbeat as the guards exited the submarine. 

Sebastian was in Urbanshade’s Hadal Site, he learned quickly. Submerged deep into the murky waters, away from civilization and contact. 

The air always felt thick and moist. The place reeked of the strong scent of cleaning chemicals and sanitation, and the rooms were towering. They swallowed you whole in big open spaces. It was a nice change from the tiny rooms he was squished into before, but the vast rooms held so much room for possibility, like anything could be waiting in the corners. It was unnerving.

“You’re next, Solace.”

Sebastian was shoved forward by an armed guard. He stepped in front of the height chart and held up his card detailing his name and assigned ID number. 

“Smile.” The photographer snapped a picture, the blinding flash burning his eyes. “Off you go now, low-rank.”

Sebastian stepped off the black mat and handed in his board. A new uniform was placed into his hands as a replacement. Guards led him down a long hallway. They idly chatted amongst themselves, as though Sebastian weren’t there.

“Did you hear that Jeff got moved over to the N.O.S.T security division?”

“You’re kidding! That’s one hell of a promotion. Those guys always get to retire early. Heard the pay is incredible.”

“It doesn’t sound all that worth it to me. They barely ever come back to get paid in the first place.”

“Eh, yeah but they get to see all of the cool stuff. The fish get boring after a while.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. There’s been reports of something real dangerous and big floating around the drills. The thing eats bullets, some of the survivors say. I wouldn’t be surprised if they start sending in low-ranks to handle it.”

“Hah, hear that, low-rank? You might have to swim with the fishies soon.” The man knocked his shoulder into Sebastian’s. The men laughed. He could only keep walking, wondering to himself if they were trying to scare him or if there was seriously something horrifying in the waters that consumed them.

Eventually, they stopped at a locked door. One of the guards scanned something on their wrist, causing the sturdy machinery to whirr and open up his new cell.

It was much bigger than he expected, at least in comparison to what he had before. It was well lit and cleaned, not a speck of dirt in sight. In the corner was a curtain concealing a toilet. How kind of them to give him privacy.

“There ya go, pal. Get changed ASAP, that new jumpsuit is what prevents you from being shot on sight.”

Sebastian turned to the guard with wide eyes, hoping to find any signs that it was a joke made in poor taste. His only response was a shove into his cell and the door sliding shut. He stood there for a solid minute, desperately trying to wrap his mind around what was happening. He was miles away from home, stuck in a place whose location was kept a secret from him. This wasn’t ideal, but he could make this work. It wasn’t permanent anyway. If he did as they asked, Sebastian had a chance at being let go, and that was more than he had before.

He looked down at the neatly folded uniform in his hands. Stitched onto the chest of the dark blue fabric was “LR-P.”  He squinted as he noticed an inverted pentagram printed onto the suit. That was…strange.

He decided not to read too much into it as he changed.

Sebastian was kept surprisingly busy. Every day he was called in to complete a task or a test, and without any explanation of what it was for, he would be sent back to his cell. It was all strange. One day he’d be requested to donate blood, the next he was taste testing candy canes.

One particular instance easily won as the strangest questionnaire he had to participate in. He was sat down and shown a picture of a skinned and headless corpse. You would have thought it would have made him sick, but it only filled him with desperation instead. He felt the strange need to provide it with furs so she could stay warm. 

He was asked to identify the corpse, and found himself stating, with no hesitation, “That’s my wife.”

“Have you ever been married, Mr. Solace?”

“Never exactly got the chance. Being arrested for murder really kills your chances.”

“And yet this is…?”

“My wife.”

He hadn’t realized how strange the situation was until he was sent back to his cell. From the murmurs he picked up on his way out, everyone recognized the corpse as their wife. 

Sebastian never cared for ghosts or the paranormal. He wasn’t a huge believer in them like his sister was, but it was hard to ignore the glaring red flags present. The inverted pentagrams stamped everywhere, the corpse that makes you think of it as your wife, the strange fish situation the guards brought up when he first got there. And the list didn’t end there.

Guards were posted everywhere, heavy duty guns in hand at all times. At random, sirens or alarms would sound, and swarms of guards would rush out in a single file line. Some came back, a lot of them didn't. If he strained his ears, he could hear faint cries throughout the day.

He was constantly being watched. There were security cameras at every corner. As if that wasn't enough, there were men and women in lab coats who regularly circled through the cells, silently watching. Sometimes they’d take another prisoner with them. What they were looking for, Sebastian wasn't sure, but he still felt unease settle within his stomach everytime their eyes lingered on him. It all made him wonder what Urbanshade was even trying to achieve. 

Despite the constant state of unease, he was doing relatively well. His tasks were simple and to the point.

Well, they were simple in concept. Having to carry around heavy boxes wasn’t fun. Sebastian grunted as he set down a heavy package beside a fellow prisoner. He was sat at some table with a prototype of what looked to be some sort of flashlight. 

A beeping collar settled around the disgruntled man’s neck. He had a cigarette between his lips and the top half of his jumpsuit was left neglected to hang at his hips. He grunted out a quick, “Thanks.”

Sebastian’s eyes drifted down to the printed “Doug - MR-P” tag on his shirt. The man followed the movement.

“You new here?”

Sebastian shrugged, “Got here about a week ago.”

Doug shook his head, “Yeah, I can tell. Word of advice? Play nice and you’ll do fine, boy. Do yourself a favor and work up to medium rank. The work gets grueling but the benefits are worth it.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigs. He offered the box to him. Sebastian shook his head.

“Thanks, but I don’t smoke.” He had tried it once back in high school when a friend offered it. He coughed it up immediately and faced the wrath of his sister when he got home and she smelled the nicotine on him. She had promised not to snitch as long as he never picked up another cigarette again.

The man laughed, “Hah, just give it some time. Once you’ve seen what I have, you’ll do anything to ease the edge.”

Sebastian swallowed, seeing an opportunity now that the guards weren’t breathing down his back. “What does this place even do? I’ve done everything from reviewing lollipops to identifying corpses and I can’t get my mind around what all of this is for.”

The man blew out a trail of smoke, “See, that’s your first mistake. You’re askin’ questions. Don’t do that. Less you know, the better. Trust me.”

That did little to reassure him, but he didn’t get a chance to push further. He was rushed off to try different ice cream flavors. 

Weeks flew by with the same routine. Weeks of not speaking to his family weighed heavy on him. He never got a chance to tell his mom about the “offer.” If he had known Urbanshade would whisk him away so quickly, he would've asked to take some time to think about it. It would be some time before he’d be able to see them again, it’s not like they could swim down to see him. He wondered what they were told, if they even knew where he was. He hoped they wouldn’t be upset with him for leaving without warning. 

They’d do fine without him, he reminded himself. They were all strong enough to keep going without him there, they always were. And once Urbanshade was done with him, he’d see them again. He’d finally be able to hug his mom again, to know that she’s really there, and that all of this was behind them. It would take some work, but he’d do whatever necessary to earn back Mira and Callum’s respect. He’d prove to them that he was never the heartless murderer the jury deemed him to be. And they’d be together again, safe, happy, and home.

He just needed to figure out how he could work his way to getting pardoned. 

Sebastian awoke one night to his cell door sliding open. 

“Hey, what prisoner rank are you?”

A pool of light crawled through the doorway, a silhouette of a man being the only thing to shield him from going blind. He sat up slowly, sleep yet to have released him from its clutches quite yet.

“Huh?”

“This is the low-ranking section, yes? Am I lost again?”  A man dressed in a long white lab coat stood before him. The glare in his safety goggles made it difficult to make out his eyes, but his rosy nose and lips stood out. He looked flushed and sweaty. One glance at his tag read that the man was named Dr. Truman, part of the bioparanormal team. 

Bioparanormal? What did that mean?

Sebastian cleared his throat, “Uh…yeah, I’m low-rank...sir.”

The man nodded. “Perfect, perfect, that's perfect!” He adjusted his goggles to scratch at his eye before placing them back down. He awkwardly fidgeted with his hands for a moment, pacing in his spot as if he forgot that Sebastian was there. When he finally looked back up at him, he made a face as though he remembered what he was doing, “Come with me!” 

It was funny how he said it as though it were a suggestion. Like his hands weren't cuffed in front of him, like guards hadn’t rushed him out of his room using the tips of their barrels to push him forward. Rather, it was said like he was a fellow coworker the man was excited to show off his latest findings to. He envied how excited the man was able to be at what felt to be an ungodly time. It was difficult to tell the time when you were plunged underwater, but he could feel it in his heavy eyelids.

They led Sebastian to an area of the blacksite that he hadn't seen before. The rooms were much larger. The doors were huge, made to not only fit crowds of people through, but giant trucks loaded with cargo as well. Workers travelled through the rooms. He heard the familiar faint cries he occasionally picked up on while completing his jobs. They were much louder now, the low growls shaking the floor. It all nearly made his heart stop. Just what were they keeping here?

As they walked, Truman occasionally turned to look back at him. His expression was difficult to read. His face changed rapidly, never satisfied. Eventually he clapped his hands together, “So! It's Solace, right? Am I right?” He looked back at him, an eager smile present on his face.

Sebastian hesitated. His name tag was clipped to his jumpsuit, wasn't it? He decided not to answer as he found nothing nice to say in his tired and grumpy state, and he needed to keep a clean record. Comply to get pardoned, he reminded himself. He settled for a nod.

“That’s a nice name. Never heard that one. You’re pretty lucky, some people out there get the short end of the stick when it comes to last names.”

“...Yeah, sure.” Sebastian blinked away the haze that clouded his vision. Truman was extremely talkative, more so than any of the other workers here. Maybe he could get answers. “Hey uh, out of curiosity, is it really possible to get pardoned down here?”

“Oh, someone’s not enjoying their time down here,” He had the audacity to laugh, “that’s only for the prisoners who sign up for more…special tasks, to put it lightly. But cheer up, I’m sure you’ll get that opportunity some time! What we’re doing today won’t qualify for that, unfortunately for you.”

Great.

Truman perked up, “You look nervous, is this your first time?”

“First time doing…what?”

“Oh, you know! Helping out the bioparanormal division- well, not technically. I explained to the big man so many times that I specialize in paranormal beings, but he still insisted on giving me assignments dealing with non-paranormal entities. So even though you’re helping a bioparanormal specialist, you’re not helping the division, but that’s neither here nor there!”

It took Sebastian a solid minute to digest all of what Truman said. “I'm sorry, entities?”

“Oh, so it is your first time! I better not spoil anything in that case.” 

Truman stayed quiet after that, leaving Sebastian to openly gape on his own. Entities? Is that what Urbanshade was about? Studying monsters?

What had he gotten himself into?

Eventually, Dr. Truman led them inside a huge room. Sebastian was pushed inside, the door closing behind him. It was pitch black, save for the little light coming through the giant window. Empty waters sat on the other side of the glass. 

Truman’s voice came over the intercom, “My apologies, we have to keep everything dark. This entity’s eyes are pretty sensitive!” 

Sorry, he was in a room with one? Sebastian’s breathing became shaky. He was going to die, wasn’t he? 

“Now, Solace, your job is going to be very, very simple,” Truman continued, “Am entity is going to come in front of the glass. I’m going to observe how you react to it, and if you survive, then you get to go back to your cell. Easy, right?”

A beat passed by.

Truman didn’t add anything else.

He was serious?

“Alright, get ready!”

Sebastian heard the sound of a heavy gate being lifted. He couldn’t see anything in the window, not for a long while.

But eventually, a subtle green glow emerged from the deep waters.

“Sebastian?”

Sebastian froze in place, goosebumps trailing his skin.

“Mom…?” It sounded like her. Exactly like her. But she couldn’t be down here. No.

“Mijo, what are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be home.” Her voice, her words, her tone, her her her her.

This was wrong. All of his senses were screaming that at him. His eyes burning from dryness, his ears ringing, his skin crawling, it all came together to tell him that this was wrong.

And yet he couldn’t look away. Not when the alluring green light grew closer and closer.

“This is all a misunderstanding, Seb. Everyone knows it. They’ll let you come home now that they know.”

Home, that’s all he wanted right now. He wanted to go home.

“They’ll let you go, I know they will. All you have to do is look into my eyes.”

He had been trying so hard to remain strong for his family, for himself. He was tired of it. He just wanted to go home now. Home. All he had to do was look. Then he would be home.

“Look into my eyes.”

Bright green eyes bored holes into his own. It stung staring at them, but it felt so freeing. So comforting. He was going home.

“Good, good, just keep looking into my eyes.”

Her voice was sweet, sickeningly so. It was…wrong. Wrong his senses reminded him, wrong. This wasn’t right. He felt something wet above his upper lip. He looked down as he gently wiped it. Blood. 

“Look back up at me, Sebastian. You want to go home, don’t you?”

Sebastian’s head hurt now that he was looking away. How he had missed such a splitting headache like this before, he was unsure. He looked back up, and this time, it wasn’t the alluring green eyes that caught his attention first, but rather, the giant shark that it belonged to.

You could’ve stacked twenty men and it still wouldn’t have been enough to reach even half of its length. Its grey skin had rips and tears in it, with bright emerald eyes peeking out of every nook and cranny. Fishing hooks and spears decorated its fins, and layers of dead and shredded skin hung off of the beast like it was a thin robe. 

“Look into my eyes, Sebastian. Don’t you want to see your family again?” The voice was loud and ear splitting. It tried so hard to sound familiar, and if he let himself give in, it would have. But he couldn’t let himself fall under its spell again.

Sebastian turned his back to the beast, trying his best to steady his shaking hands. It was as though his skull was getting ripped open, allowing the contents to spill all over the twisting floor that shook beneath him. The once smooth design of it now swirled into shapes and colors until it dissolved into nothingness. 

“Look at me, Sebastian. You’re letting them down, you know? All you have to do is look into my eyes and you’re refusing?”

Sebastian began slowly walking back towards the door. The room swayed in protest, his head naturally trying to swivel back to face the monster behind him. He fought it off with each trembling step. 

“You had no issues signing your life over to Urbanshade. You had no issues moving miles away and burying yourself hundreds of feet underwater. It was so easy to leave them behind, can’t you do them this one favor to make up for it?”

That wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, he couldn’t listen.

“Look. Into. My. Eyes. You’ll never see them again if you don’t! Look at me!” It chanted it.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Sebastian heard the distant sound of the door opening. He heard footsteps. He felt someone grabbing his arms and forcing him forward.

You’ll never see them again, Sebastian. Never.

[bb-bugspot]

Almost the same.

[Part 1] (Another fic based on a few drawings of @mas-away that I absolutely loved to be based on, and my own ideas too ofc :3)

From the moment he was born, Odysseus wings were always the same color: white and the tips of the feathers a pretty purple. It was a bit surprising, not because of the fact he had little head wings at all, his maternal grandfather and mother had wings too, but theirs were a different color. His own were the exact same as his great grandfather, Hermes.

Autolycus wings, his grandfather, were more of a brown color with different tones, related to his own powers as a thief who could make the things he stole invisible. His mother’s wings, Anticlea, were less of a vibrant color, a soft baby blue, almost too pale to be noticed and quite the contrast against her own father’s and Hermes palette color.

Ctimene’s wings were a pretty light orange, almost goldish with lighter tips, going perfectly with her personality when she grew up after being born, but Odysseus were a perfect copy of Hermes, although with only a set, it was quick to show he would have a stronger connection in the future with his great grandfather, being more alike than anyone would expect.

When he grew up, those similitudes were made clearer and the way he would spend time together with Hermes only reinforced that. Two sides of the same coin, it should be ridiculous to say that about a god and a mortal, but it was true for everyone who knew and saw them whenever the god was around, not like the two of them would deny it, but it was still fun to point it out.

He took great care of them, not displaying them off too much, of course, but he was proud and liked to run his fingers through them whenever he was thinking, or even keeping them pressed against his head so they wouldn’t flutter and puff up to show how he was feeling.

When he went to war, it was difficult to take care of them and it was troublesome to even keep them safely hidden beneath the curls of his hair, but he managed. Preening was barely done, although he trusted Eurylochus and Polites for it, they had more important matters and even he forgot to do it while planning on how to infiltrate past the walls of Troy so they could rescue Helen and manage to escape without trouble.

When trying to get back home, it was better at the start, but after Polites dead he would stress out and pull a few feathers from his wings, sometimes he would grab a handful and sob his heart out. He had not only lost his best friend, but Athena, his mentor and patron goddess, had left him too after the decision of making himself known to Polyphemus after he blinded him because he had taken the life of a lot of his men and Polites too.

Foolish decision, but he had been tired and angry, he wanted it to hurt and have the cyclop suffer not being considered because of the first “name” he had given him at the start.

When he met Aelous, his wings were not the best, he was ashamed of how they looked bald on a few spots and so kept them hidden beneath the hat that Penelope had made for him. The wing god ended up finding about them either way and gave him some oil to help the growth of feathers back in an instant, although not without some itchiness that he had to stop himself from stopping.

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[anachronismstellar]

Hello, I'm the anon who chucked a lot of brainrot are you recently, gonna sign off as moon anon since now, cause theme.

Okay but what if, one of the next peak lords really needs a hug. Like, that person is at least lvl 3 touch starved but doesn't really have the guts nor a person to ask for cuddles. And then they hear of Shang "peak lord collector" Qinghua. And they logically conclude that since he doesn't mind close contact he also wouldn't mind some other types of it, right?

Que a letter goes in with reports next time, adressed to SQH and enchanted not to be opened by any one else. And he's confused but then he opens it and it's very sweet letter asking if he would be amenable for a cuddle session. And on one hand what the heck, on the other this is so cut omg.

So he accepts and then he basically gets a cuddle buddy who also can make some really good snacks and actually got some really really nice bed and oop he fell asleep.

Bonus points if the peak lord is somewhere on the aroace spectrum and while there may or may not be sex, that is definitely a peak lord that will not hesitate to shank someone for sqh. So they are def collected. "Why do you invite him over?" "I'm a slut for cuddles. We also have a book club"

And yes, they will try to shank MBJ if he tries to take their cuddle time away from them. They might be the tiniest peak lord at the cursed 5'2/5'3 but it's cause they are condensed ball of mass destruction and they have their ways.

-moon anon

Moony!!! I'm so so sorry it took me so long to finish this asiufhsaudf

And, as you know, and as I do, the prompt ran away and became its own thing lol

The name for the Divination peak I borrowed from the amazing faq by 00janeblonde

Now, a few TWs:

There is a two line description of childbirth, I'm gonna put it in orange if anyone wants to skip that. Also, Jiao Qingxing is a very anxious baby! I didn't describe any panic attacks, but he is going through some severe touch starvation here, if that squicks you please please take care of yourself!

Last, but not least, I do have some comments about our dear hamster behavior in this fic, but enough of me blabbing, and on with the show! :D

--------

Jiao Qingxing liked to think he had a good face. It wasn't good practice for a physiognomer to analyze their own physical appearance, that would be the same as dooming themselves. But it was hard not to measure the space between his brows and nose while looking at his bronze mirror, or trace the small mole he had on his cheek with his fingertips when nervous. 

Nevertheless it was a good face. Maybe not a peerless beauty as Shen-shixiong, or striking as Wei-shixiong, but with good proportions and free of hardships. 

His numbers were also to be praised. Born under fortuitous time with astonishing balance between his elements, he knew he had been chosen to be the head disciple as soon as he gave his first cry while his mother still laid on her delivery bed, sheets smeared with blood and sweat. Oh he had to go through all the procedures to enter the Sect, but everyone knew that he would pass all tests. It was written on his name, on his destiny. And the following peak Lord of Zhi Ji would be chosen the same way. 

There was only one thing, he thought, in which he felt less fortunate than his martial siblings. 

“There you go, Shidi. You can put your clothes back on.”

Intimacy.

Jiao Qingxing’s entire body shook with relief as he sat down on the soft cot bed, the movement making his jewelry chim softly like clear bells. He felt a bit bad for tuning Mu-shixiong off while he gave the same old same old report on his vitals and his qi, too tired to hear the encouragement on the doctor's voice.

There was nothing wrong with him, he was improving since the past session, they were taking the necessary steps to move a bit forward and maybe take his hair do down while they do their sessions-

Jiao Qingxing closed his eyes, swallowing down as Mu-shixiong’s speech echoed on his head before the doctor said it, word by word, death by a million papercuts.

No matter how much time had passed, how closer he had gotten with his martial siblings, he seemed to be encased in glass. And it wasn’t for lack of trying on both sides, they all have been head disciples one day after all, and he had attended many parties in which Zhang Qingyan’s wine was passed around freely and games were played as if they were kids once more. 

Nevertheless, it’s been years since he had approached Mu-shixiong with his little situation, and still he hasn’t allowed himself to relax enough to put his hair down during their sessions. He appreciated Mu-shixiong not forcing the issue, but made Jiao Qingxing a bit sad that the doctor wouldn’t scream at him and make him go through his treatment properly as he would with the other peak lords.

Made their hugs feel a bit hollow, more an obligation than a nice moment between them.

“This one thanks Mu-shixiong for his time,” Jiao Qingxing said as he put his robes back on, one layer at a time as one would put silk over expensive porcelain to protect it from chipping. 

“Before you go, Shidi,” Mu Qingfang extended his hand towards Jiao Qingxing, the heat of his palm hovering over his arm without touching it. “This one has a matter to discuss with you.”

Jiao Qingxing held back his desire to hunch his shoulders, blinking away the visions of a thousand futures that could possibly settle over them. 

It was his power, it was his curse. Mu-shixiong called it anxiety but he had got too many predictions right to fully trust the doctor’s diagnosis. 

“As Shidi knows, this one is going to the Caves at the end of the month. Not for long, but for enough time to cultivate and check the others there. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be back on time to have another of our sessions,” and it would be so funny if it weren’t sad to see his Shixiong nervous, as if Jiao Qingxing would cry and despair. 

Honestly, he felt bad for feeling relief.

“It’s no issue, Shixiong. This one understands. We can reschedule it for a further date.”

“I would agree to that if Shidi’s meridians weren’t blocked as they are now,” and wasn't Shixiong so nice to say it as if it were just a minor hiccup instead of him being in the cusp of a qi deviation? “I fear that we reached an impasse. I can’t forward your case to my head disciple because that would be improper, but I also can’t leave you without your treatment.”

“What are you suggesting, Shixiong?”

The doctor took off his glasses, pressing down on the faint mark on the bridge of his nose. Jiao Qingxing wouldn’t dare read his face so shamelessly, but he couldn’t help to think that the faint stubble fit him well, balanced his youth and gave the Qing Cao Peak Lord an air of maturity that was charming. None of these observations helped him when the suggestion came:

“I have made a list,” Mu-shixiong said as he slowly put his glasses back on, patting his robes before extending a piece of folded paper to Jiao Qingxing. “Of other possible candidates for your session. Of course the final decision-”

“No,” he said as he tightened his robes a bit too forcefully, the silk slipping through his fingers as they shook from anger.

“Shidi, be reasonable-”

“I said no!” he shouted, and that made the doctor raise both his hands, always hovering but never touching.

No one ever touched-

“Shidi,” Mu-shixiong waited until he had calmed down, not wanting to upset even more the progress they had made during the past two hours. “I assure you, whoever name is on that list will be careful with the information and I will instruct them myself about all the procedures.”

And isn’t it sad? He should be used to it, but it still hurt to hear it in medical terms like that. Procedures. As if hugging Jiao Qingxing demanded step by step routine. 

He took the paper. He knew that Mu-shixiong wouldn’t scream at him or force anything, but the doctor might get some weird ideas like dragging Jiao Qingxing to the caves with him and that would be even worse than dealing with whoever might be written down.

Jiao Qingxing hated the caves, too many possibilities, too many destinies interconnected, too many futures that he couldn’t grasp. 

“How…” and he had to take a small pause, pressing his lips in a thin line as he blew air from his nose slowly. 

Exhale. Inhale.

“How much time do I have before sending you a response?”

“I would say until the end of the week.” and he didn’t need much to read the discomfort on his Shixiong’s face. He knew the deadline was tight, considering how sensitive it was for Jiao Qingxing. 

“Very well,” he said instead of lashing out again, picking up the list without looking at it yet. “I will think about it.”

“This Shixiong appreciates his Shidi efforts.”

He left Qing Cao Peak with disheveled robes and a sword speed that would make Liu-shixiong envious.

-xx-

It had taken him three days to look at the list hidden on the sleeve of his robes, the paper so crumbled it was a miracle Jiao Qingxing could understand Mu-shixiong's calligraphy at all. The list, as expected, was extremely short, with some names that were a bit unexpected, such as Qinghui-shixiong, to some a bit more sensible as Gao-shixiong. 

What was curious, though, was the name at the very bottom of the list, scratched out but still recognizable, considering his options:

Shang Qinghua

Now, there could have been many reasons for the name to have been reconsidered. He wasn't one for gossiping, but he was almost sure he heard someone say that Mu-shixiong had special feelings for Shang-shixiong. Could be that he had put the name down and then got jealous? Mu-shixiong didn't seem the type to do so…

Another possibility was that Shang-shixiong himself was too busy to schedule an entire evening with him to deal with his situation. That sounded more plausible, considering how he had never seen Shang-shixiong stop moving or taking a break. 

But that wouldn't be the perfect reason to put Shang-shixiong's name on the list? Mu-shixiong might not be the jealous type but he was the type of person that wouldn't throw away the chance to force his most jittery Shixiong to stop and rest. So, putting Shang Qinghua's name wouldn't be killing two birds with one stone? Why take his name away then? 

He traced the lines over Shang Qinghua's name, making an impulsive decision. 

He was making it a bigger fuss than it was. They would meet, have calming tea, sleep for two hours and then probably never look each other in the face again, and then he would go back to his appointments with Mu-shixiong that were strictly professional but at least it didn't involve socializing. 

That’s what he repeated to himself as his head disciple announced the arrival of the An Ding peak lord, a few weeks later, for their appointment. He asked his head disciple to guide his Shixiong to his Leisure House, putting his papers aside to take a deep breath, gathering the courage to get up and move. He hadn’t slept a wink the past night, jumping from bed as soon as it was deemed an acceptable hour to take the longest bath he had ever taken, scrubbing his skin so hard it became red all over. It didn’t help with the sensation of ants crawling up his arms, but it made him more grounded, focused on what he had to do. 

Tea. A little talk. Sleep. Send Shang Qinghua away.

He opened the door to his Leisure house as if opening the door to a war council, soft steps hesitantly carrying him all the way to the table where Shang Qinghua was sitting, back towards the door. 

What made Jiao Qingxing stop on his tracks was how relaxed his Shixiong seemed to be. The bun on the top of his head was nowhere to be seen, instead soft brown hair covered yellow robes in waves of curls, as if Autumn itself had dropped its colors all over Shang Qinghua. 

The smell of lavender, the usual tea Mu-shixiong would prepare for them both before their appointments, was a familiar comfort, calming his heart as he got closer to Shang Qinghua, stopping just a little bit behind the An Ding peak lord. 

“Shixiong.”

The sound of wood being knocked followed by a string of curses made Jiao Qingxing flinch, immediately taking a step back. Meanwhile, Shang Qinghua rushed to get on his feet, almost falling face first on the ground to take a bow, excuses spilling from his mouth faster than Jiao Qingxing could understand.

“-said that I should wait here, but oh my god I should have waited by the door, I’m so sorry Shidi, shit I’m already messing this up, aren’t I? And after all the talk Mu-shixiong sat me through too, oh Heavens, but I made some tea! Lavender is your favorite, right? I brought some others as well just in case-”

“S-Shixiong-” it was too much, Shang-shixiong was too much. Jiao Qingxing already knew that; he had to sit through all the Sect meetings just as all the other peak lords and ladies after all. However, one thing was to face Shang Qinghua’s presence with others to shield Jiao Qingxing from all the anxiety Shang-shixiong seemed to be moved by, another thing entirely was to bear the full force of it. 

This might have been a mistake, maybe Mu-shixiong had been right on striking the name off the list.

Because on top of all the exaggerated hand movement, the nonstop talking without talking about nothing at all, there was… There was something odd about Shang-shixiong’s that Jiao Qingxing couldn’t pinpoint. An energy that made all the hairs of the back of his neck tingle, rising up as if he were in danger; a faint circle of bright blue in his eyes that hurt Jiao Qingxing head if he stared for too long. 

Things were moving too fast out of control, he had to go back to the plan, they already had tea so they just had to talk, if Shang-shixiong let me talk, Qingxing thought with a deep sigh as the other kept going on and on about-

What was he talking about?

“-but then I read this book uh- back in my hometown, I don’t have it anymore, but I did some research, you don’t need to worry!”

“Thanking Shixiong for his efforts and his time,” Jiao Qingxing bowed low, already feeling exhausted. “But this one must beg forgiveness for wasting Shixiong’s time. This one will talk to Mu-shixiong-”

Warm hands touched his shoulders to gently make him straighten his posture, pulling a gasp from Jiao Qingxing's throat. He forced his gaze to stay cast downwards, not daring to look at his Shixiong’s brown-blue-gold eyes. 

“Jiao-shidi has nothing to apologize for, it’s this one who has to beg for forgiveness,” Shang Qinghua slowly but surely moved one of his hands from Qingxing’s shoulder to his hair, tugging it gently before putting it behind Qingxing’s ear. “This one went a bit ahead of himself, didn’t he? Hm…” and then he let it go, as if Jiao Qingxing hadn’t been branded by his heat, melting under it as soft snow on the first day of spring. 

Shang Qinghua sat down again, tapping the pillow next to him as an invitation, his silence ringing on Jiao Qingxing's ears after so much noise in the past minutes. He definitely should have just waited for Mu-shixiong, he could feel his breathing starting pick up as the situation fell out of control, he wanted to be touched again, he wasn’t expecting Shang-shixiong to be so warm, he-

“Here’s what we are going to do, Shidi,” Shang Qinghua said as he pulled Jiao Qingxing by the sleeve of his robe, making the Zhi Ji peak lord sit heavily next to him. “We are going to talk. Just talk. Okay? If you still think this is a bad idea, I will talk to Mu-shidi and we can think of something else. No harm done. What do you think?”

He gave Shang Qinghua a little nod. Talking is a good idea, he could talk. Staying so close to Shang Qinghua might be a bit too much, but he also wasn’t extremely bothered by it. 

“Good, great, now, I know that if we keep going this way I will do all the talking and that would be bad,” Shang-shixiong said as he busied himself by pouring them tea, offering the first cup to Qingxing as if he weren’t throwing all the ceremony and property out of the window. “So why don’t you tell me a little bit about your cultivation? I had never had someone reading my fortune, sounds fun!” He finished with a nervous giggle clearly not wanting to have his fortune read at all.

That was okay. He wasn’t going to do it anyway.

“There are many ways to tell one’s fortune.” he forced himself to say after sipping his tea, closing his eyes, pretending to be lecturing his disciples. “Analyzing the stars and the calendar is a very common one nowadays, but there is also the Four Pillars and, in my field of studies, Physiognomy. It’s not perfect, usually one has to combine more than one method…” and bit by bit he relaxed, letting his shoulders drop, the trembling of his hands simmering down until they were steady again. 

He spoke for a long time, explaining each type of method, their histories and when to apply them. And when it felt as if he couldn’t speak anymore, Shang-shixiong started asking questions, doing his best to pull Jiao Qingxing into a debate, challenging him to explain from how one could calculate the position of stars and determine which place a bed should be put in a room, to how the lines of the palm of his hand were connected to his heart and life. 

And the most mesmerising of it all, Shang Qinghua paid attention. It hurt a bit to have his full attention so close, but Jiao Qingxing couldn’t help but drink all of it, eager to be seen, to be truly seen after so many years of polite small talk and far away smiles. 

Before they both noticed, the sun had already set and their time together had come to an end. Reluctantly, they both stand on their feet, with Jiao Qingxiong following Shang Qinghua all the way to the door. 

“Well, that was fun!” Shang-shixiong chuckled, not back to his full energetic self, but unable to hold back his excitement either. “Now I have to rearrange my entire room, see if it improves my mood like you said.”

“I will be waiting to hear about the results, Shixiong.” Jiao Qingxing couldn’t hold back a smile either, shaking his head at his Shixiong’s silliness. “But it takes time. It won’t work after a night.”

“Yea, you are right.” Shang Qinghua nodded with a sigh, a twinkle in his eye that made Jiao Qingxing blink. “So I just have to keep coming here for the next few weeks then. To give you my report.”

Jiao Qingxing didn’t have a single romantic bone in his body. Or any interests for these types of relationships, that’s precisely what had put him in this situation to begin with.

But even he had to admit that… That Shang Qinghua was good at this. Flirting. Heavens, he might have even felt his cheeks heating up!

“If Shixiong so desires,” he said as he lowered his eyes once more, unsure how one should send a person away after being flirted with. “This one would be happy to hear Shixiong’s report.”

“Great! I will bring the tea, I know we didn’t drink much of it this time-”

“White tea.”

“Pardon?”

Jiao Qingxing felt the burn on his cheeks spread down his neck, glaring at the floor as if it could force it to open and end this embarrassing moment. 

“I prefer white tea. Mu-shixiong makes me drink the other to help me calm down but-”

“Ah,” and Qingxing couldn’t help but look up at Shang Qinghua, the soft smile on the An Ding peak lord tugging something on his heart. “Then I will bring the white tea. No need to tell Mu-shidi about it, huh?”

With a last promise to be back at the same time the next day, Shang Qinghua jumped on his sword, soon enough becoming a speckle of yellow in the dark sky. 

-xx-

Shang Qinghua came back the following day. And the next. And the next one.

Sometimes they talked for hours, other times they worked along in silence, or as silently Shang Qinghua was capable of being. It almost felt like routine, as if it was normal for the An Ding peak lord to spend so much time at Zhi Ji peak.

And, bit by bit, he could feel Shang Qinghua getting closer and closer. A brush of their hands here and there, a playful tug at his sleeves, their shoulders touching as they revised paperwork side by side. 

Again, Jiao Qingxing wasn’t a romantic, but he could appreciate the gestures, more than anything he could appreciate the lack of hesitancy in which Shang Qinghua invaded his personal space, as if he had all the right to be there. And funnily enough, Jiao Qingxing felt as he did. 

“Shidi,” Shang Qinghua called his attention, probably not for the first time by the way he was pulling his sleeve. “Can I brush your hair?”

The question felt as if it came out of nowhere, making Jiao Qingxing pick up one of the braids close to his neck.

“What for?” he asked, not entirely against the idea, but also not sure if he wanted to trust his hair to the person who kept theirs in a bun most of the time. But all he got for an answer was a shrug, and Shang Qinghua flicking the small chain on his hair pin. 

Too curious to see where this was going, he gave one last glance at his Shixiong before going all the way to his room to grab his comb, handing it to Shang Qinghua before sitting with his back towards the other. 

“If it hurts, let me know,” he whispered a bit too close to Jiao Qingxiong's ear, starting him enough for Qingxing to move a bit away from his Shixiong. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Shang Qinghua said with a squeeze of his shoulder,  getting to work. And, as if they had all the time in the world, Shang Qinghua took away his hair pin, using his fingers to massage Jiao Qingxing's scalp. 

It was as if someone had poured hot qi from his head, dripping down all the way to his toes. He barely could hold back a moan as Shang Qinghua used his nails to scratch from the top of his head to the back of his ears, thumbs pressing a bit over the back of his neck. 

He couldn't help but close his eyes, tipping his head back as clever fingers separated his hair into sectionsbefore Shang-shixiong actually started combing from the bottom all the way to his head.

It might have been the most relaxed he had felt in years. He felt his body swaying, a whine leaving his lips when strong arms pulled him closer, until his back was fully resting against Shang Qinghua's chest. And again it felt like Shang-shixiong was made of heated rocks, his warmth making it very difficult for Jiao Qingxing to concentrate on being awake.

“Shidi?” The voice next to his ear made him whine, the sensation too good for him to answer properly. “What about we take a nap, hn?” and how could he do anything else but agree?

Once more he was held by Shang Qinghua's gentle hands, this time to be carried all the way to his rooms. A distant voice in his head screamed that it was a mess, Shang-shixiong deserved better than two days old sheets and an unmade bed, but there was a rumbling coming from Shang-shixiong's chest as he hummed a nice tune, distracting Jiao Qingxing from his loud thoughts. At some point the humming was gone, replaced by Shang Qinghua explaining everything he was doing as he removed all the layers of robes Jiao Qingxing preferred to wear, leaving the Zhi Ji peak lord only with his most inner robe.

“Shixiong,” he whispered as cold sunk deep into his skin the moment Shang Qinghua left him to remove his own clothing. “Shixiong, please-”

“Shh, sorry, sorry, I'm right here,” and then Jiao Qingxing felt-

He felt.

The hiccup was like a punch to his chest as tears trickled down his face. Suddenly it was impossible to stop the sobbing as he hid his face against Shang Qinghua's neck, calloused hands touching him everywhere, burning his skin in a searing white sensation. 

But not hurting. Never hurting.

“Shhh… Shidi is doing great, that's it, let it all out…” Shang Qinghua's tone of voice sounded far from being an order, but it felt as a command all the same. 

And Jiao Qingxing cried, and cried, until his voice was gone and his heart felt hollow. And when there was nothing left for him to pour out, Shang Qinghua was there to hold him through, his presence a soothing balm that lulled Jiao Qingxing to sleep.

The next day, when Shang Qinghua left after they shamelessly slept in, there was a smile on Jiao Qingxing's blushing face, and a letter to Mu-shixiong ready to be sent, reporting not only the successful results of the session but also a request to discuss his treatment in depth.

-xx-

Ye Ling had a notebook.

Not an An Ding notebook, that was a separate one, filled with all types of forms and procedures, plans for classes and disciples’ names that needed to be kept close or the ones that should be praised. No, her notebook, well cherished and taken care of, had the cover made of dark leather, paper so used that it didn’t close properly anymore, calligraphy so small that, if her Shizun ever saw it he would say she was practicing to cheat on tests. 

Not that he would ever see it. If Shizun ever caught her notebook... 

She would be dead.

It had Shang-shizun’s entire love life noted somehow. The things she was able to piece together, at least. There were many gaps, her Shizun too paranoid for her to snoop too much without getting in trouble. And because she would be dead if her Shizun ever found the book, she took an extra step to write everything in code, with names and symbols that she had made herself.

Her Shizun had taught her well!! It didn’t hurt to be prepared!!

However, because her Shizun was also the person who taught her how to write things in code, when she saw her precious dark leather notebook in the hands of Shang Qinghua, An Ding Peak Lord himself, she felt her vision darkening, and the sound of her heartbeat so loud it made her ears hurt.

She could try her luck. He probably hasn’t seen her come in. She turned around, ready to bolt-

“Ye Ling.”

Oh. Oh no.

That wasn’t the “I am so angry I might actually go after Liu Qingge and throw him down.” voice.  

That was the “You didn’t file the form correctly and now I’m angry and disappointed” voice.

And it was so so much worse.

“Yes, Shizun?”

He closed the notebook and put it down in front of him right in the middle of his desk, as if daring her to get closer to grab it. Then, slowly, so slowly that all the hair in her arms and neck stood up, he raised his eyes at her, pressing the point of his index finger against the pad of his thumb, the only thing betraying calm posture.

“I won’t step in the way of my head disciple getting some extra coin.” He got up from his desk and her knees were going to fail her if he got closer, all the alarm bells ringing on her head. “But you must agree that I am entitled to some questions.”

She dropped to the floor so fast her hands slapped loudly on wooden boards, touching her forehead to the ground.

“This disciple is immensely sorry and apologizes! This lowly one is ready to accept her punishment as Shizun deems fit!!” At each word that she screamed, his footsteps got closer. “This one won’t complain and will take care of the entire course plan of the new disciples when time comes, this one is also willing-”

She wasn’t even aware of what she was promising anymore when he grabbed her by her forearms, picking her up as if she were a small crate of parchments to be moved, patting her sleeves to clean up the dust on her white robes.

“Stop that! It won’t work with me, young lady, in the school of begging for your life, I might be your grandmaster!” 

Shizun, have some decency! Show some mercy!! Normal people don’t brush off their students' meddling and betting on their love life! And they don’t confess being masters of begging for their life either!!

“No take backsies though, next batch of new disciples is all yours to teach.”

“But Shizun-”

“Nope, not hearing it! You said you would do it, they are yours now!”

“A-Aren’t you mad?” and it was a testimony of how confused she was that she didn’t even notice the extremely informal way she just addressed him. And thank Heavens her Shizun wasn’t one to stick to these types of formalities, otherwise she would be packing her bags to the sewage district for sure.

“Oh, don’t be silly, of course I’m not mad!”

“Uh-”

“I am furious,” and the glare he sent her way was scarier than Shen-shishu’s, she didn’t even know that was possible. “I don’t care if you make a betting poll on my sleeping habits or whatever I will quit my job before the next Immortal Alliance Conference, what I am disappointed about is the fact that you wrote it down!”

She didn’t flinch. She knew her Shizun would never touch a hair of her head to harm her in any way, and she knew she deserved this scolding. But in moments like these, when her Shizun is actually serious for a change, when she was reminded that her Shizun was an Immortal with enough strength to level mountains if needed, and a brain with so much information about everything and everybody that it was actually scary, it was very difficult to not send a prayer to the Heavens for her life.

The Sewers might not be so bad. Maybe.

“This one begs her Shizun for mercy, the notebook was in a safe location, I swear!”

“Not so safe if I was able to get my hands on it!” he argued back, and this close she could see the white of his eyes, his lips pulled down in an almost sneer. 

She lowered her head again, blinking to make the burning sensation in her eyes go away. She wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t, tears were for playing victim and tricking the enemy, that’s what Shizun had taught her. 

She would swallow her pride and accept her fate. 

An inked finger touched her chest, right down her neck, making her tilting her head even lower to see what her Shizun would do next. But before she could move at all, he swept his finger up, catching her nose for just enough of a moment to make her stare at his hand cross eyed, letting her go with after a gentle squeeze. 

“I taught you better than that, Ye Ling.”

She didn't have the face to answer or look at him, so she only nodded, shoulders hunched to make herself smaller.

“Now, as for punishment, I want a complete research on codification of information, different types of ciphers, and talismans for protecting books and contracts.”

She raised her head, not wanting to complain about her good luck but also not believing in it one bit, twisting and pulling the cord of her head disciple pass on her waist. That was it? Getting stuck with the new disciples was harsh and a task more fit to her shimeis and shidis, her schedule as a head disciple already busy as it was. But… Teaching the kids, research on codes and… Nothing else?

“Also your notebook is mine now,” Ah. There it was. “I will give you another notebook later, but this one stays with me.” Then he twisted her around so she would be facing the door, pushing her all the way out of his office. “Good luck rebuilding your betting poll from scratch, now shoo, I have work to do!”

Then the door was shut with a faint “thud”, leaving her alone with heart fluttering on her chest like a bird that had escaped the claws of a very scary cat. Her hands were so sweaty she had to pat them down on her uniform to not drip it on the floor.

It was fine. She wasn’t dead, it was fine.

If you are alive, you can always start again, wasn't that what Shizun said?

But first she had some research to do.

---------

Can y'all believe this AU has more than 25k words? I never wrote so much for a fandom in my entire life lol

Now, about Shang Qinghua and Ye Ling: He is angry and so proud and so angry is not even funny. Mostly because that little notebook could have put him in a LOT of trouble with a certain demon King 👀 plus, I don't believe Shang Qinghua acts as much as a crying "weak" mess around his students, he has to teach them how to deal with a lot of shit from other peaks, so he lets An Ding disciples take a little peek under his "I'm just a silly guy please don't hurt me I will cry" mask. As a treat.

Ngl, this fic became a little bit of a indulging moment for me, and I had to get out of my comfort zone writing it! But I really hope you all like it <3

I'll post it on Ao3 later after I take a nap lol

10/12 PEAK HERE WE GOOOOOO :D

[itsnesss]

hi can you do a sensei wolf x fem, larusso reader? And can reader be slightly older then sam.

also reader is captain instead of sam

can you also add smut? only if ur comfortable with it.

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 | sensei wolf × fem!reader

summary | secret romance develops between a miyagi-do captain and sensei Wolf during the sekai taikai tournament, leading to an intense and risky night together

warnings | smut, age gap, explicit content, fingering, p in v, protected sex

word count | 3.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The Sekai Taikai had started with a dazzling brilliance, teams gathered in one place, fighting for their respective victories. The roar of the crowd, the intense emotions of each fight, the sweat and exhaustion building up in your muscles... All of this made up the bustling scene around you, but nothing captivated you as much as one single thought. Him.

Sensei Wolf of the Iron Dragons dojo. His steel-like eyes, his imposing figure, his presence so powerful that it felt like the walls bent around him. But it wasn’t just that. From the first moment your eyes met his, something inside you changed. You didn’t know if it was the challenge he emanated, his unwavering posture, or the fact that, even with his authority, there was something human about him that attracted you. Something that, unintentionally, awakened something in you.

You remember the first fight you saw him in. It wasn’t just the way he led his team that caught your attention. It was his gaze. Deep, unshakable, as if everything he did had a purpose. It wasn’t just his physical attractiveness. A born sensei, yes, but there was something more. Something dangerous. Something that piqued your curiosity, even though you knew you should have kept your distance. After all, you were the captain of Miyagi-Do. You shouldn’t get distracted, especially not by someone like him. Someone older.

The tension between you two didn’t go unnoticed. You didn’t speak much, but the looks said it all. Every time you crossed paths, you could feel the electricity in the air. It seemed as if everything came down to those moments when he looked at you.

As the tournament went on, your encounters with him became more frequent. Not in an obvious way, of course. Everything was carefully camouflaged in the bustle, in the hallways, in the corners of the stadium. It seemed like fate was pushing you both to be near each other. And although in your mind you said you shouldn’t get involved, that it wasn’t right, your steps kept drawing you closer to him.

It was the first time you both shared a brief encounter alone when something changed. The rest of the Miyagi-Do team was busy with their training, and you decided to go to the locker room to relax for a few minutes. But when you arrived, you found a familiar figure, but in some way, now impossible to ignore.

Sensei Wolf was there, standing, as if he had been waiting for you. His presence filled the space, but it wasn’t an oppressive one. It was as if the world spun around him, with him at the center. Just being near him made you feel a strange mixture of calm and anxiety. And when his eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but feel a shiver, as if something beyond superficial attraction was at play.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his deep voice echoing in the empty locker room.

You hadn’t expected that question. You hadn’t expected him to speak to you like that. But you couldn’t deny that something in his tone, a genuine kind of interest, made you relax a little.

"Yeah, I just need a moment to breathe." Your words were soft, but at the same time, you felt an internal tension you couldn’t control. You took a step closer without thinking too much about the consequences.

He didn’t say anything but took a step toward you. Somehow, your body reacted before your mind. An impulse, a need to be closer. The brush of his arm against yours made everything in your chest quicken. You didn’t realize when it happened, but somehow, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was as unexpected as it was overwhelming. At first, you didn’t know how to react. It was as if all the training, all the discipline you had built up collapsed in an instant. Wolf’s hands found your waist, and the pressure of his body against yours made you lose yourself in that moment. The heat between you two grew, intensified, and the need for more overtook you both. There was no time to think, only the desire to explore this inexplicable connection that bound you together.

When you pulled away, the air between you was charged with something more than simple desire. It was a shared need, a recognition that there was something more between you two.

"This can’t be," you whispered, your voice low. You knew you should pull away, that you shouldn’t continue this. But you couldn’t help it. Something inside you wanted more.

"I know," he replied, his breath still heavy. He didn’t seem regretful. Rather, he seemed as determined as you to follow through with what had started, even though you both knew it wasn’t right.

From that moment on, you began seeing each other in secret. The encounters were brief, stolen between training sessions, between fights, in any dark corner of the stadium or empty hallways. Every time you met, the desire grew stronger, the connection between you became undeniable. The touch of his skin against yours, the stolen kisses, the furtive caresses, it all became more intense and complicated. No matter what you told yourself, the desire to be with him didn’t fade.

There was something in the way you touched, in the way you looked at each other, that kept you both hooked in this dangerous game. The kisses became more urgent, more passionate. Every time you pulled apart, it was as if the world returned to normal, but inside you knew everything was changing. It was as if the attraction was something stronger than any unwritten rule.

As the captain of Miyagi-Do, you had always kept control, always been the girl everyone expected, the daughter of Daniel LaRusso, the example of what a karate student should be: disciplined, focused, perfect. Nothing made you happier than meeting that expectation, but something about him made you want to break those rules, stop being the perfect daughter of LaRusso for just a moment. But you knew you couldn’t. No one could find out. No one could know what was happening between you two. Especially not your dojo mates, and definitely not your father.

One quiet night after an exhausting day, it happened in a secluded corner. You were there, waiting, when you felt him approaching. His steps were silent, but you knew he was there.

When he found you, without saying a word, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you toward him with a force that left you breathless. And then, the kiss. It was more intense than ever, filled with everything you both needed, everything you both knew couldn’t last. But in that moment, nothing mattered more than being together.

"This can’t go on," you said, this time with more certainty.

"It doesn’t matter," he replied, looking into your eyes with that intensity only he could have.

He took your hand and led you to his hotel room.

You didn't expect it, but you couldn't refuse either. You disappeared into his arms, inside his room. And it was there that something deeper between the two of you was unlocked.

The door closed behind you, and you approached him.

"This is dangerous," you said, but you knew you wouldn't stop now.

"I know". He smiled, the shine of his white teeth reflected in the darkness. And it was then that everything began.

"Kiss me," you said. You knew what it could mean, but you couldn't avoid it anymore.

He nodded and leaned towards you, his gaze intense. His mouth found yours, and the kiss was more passionate than ever. The desire grew, and your body began to react in a strange way.

His hands slid over your shoulders, down your arms, until they touched the exposed skin of your wrists. The sensation of his fingers against yours was a kind of electric shock that ran through your entire body, making you want more.

The touch of his lips on yours became more intense, more exploratory. Your breath quickened in your chest, and your arms began to wrap around him. You didn't know what to do, but something inside you knew that you didn't need experience to move forward.

The clothes slid down, and the kisses became more intense. It was as if both of them needed something that only they could give. His skin felt smooth against yours. And the touch was a sensation you had never felt before.

The caresses were gentle yet urgent, his hands glided over your skin, meeting the muscles of your arms and legs, until they reached the curve of your hips.

He undressed and approached you. Your body began to react.

"It's okay," he said, his voice deep but calm. His gaze met yours, and you both knew that something else was about to change. Something else was going to happen.

You nodded, and he led you to the bed.

You lay down on the bed, and Wolf approached you. His kisses were wild, exploratory, and his touch was soft yet firm.

"I'm a little nervous," you said in a whisper.

"It's okay, you shouldn't be" he replied. His gaze was intense, yet at the same time reassuring. You knew you could trust him.

You nodded. His fingers slid down your thighs, towards your belly, towards your ribs, until they reached your breasts. The touch on them made you gasp. His fingers found your nipples, and gently caressed them. The sensation was as if your nipples hardened a little more, as if they were responding to his caresses. The desire began to grow in your chest.

Your breath began to quicken a little more in your chest when his fingers found the curve of your thighs. The touch became increasingly urgent, and his fingers began to trace their way downwards.

His fingers traced the path down to your legs, to your knees, to your ankles.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asked in a whisper, his lips brushing against your ears.

You nodded, without taking your eyes off his.

"You can stop whenever you want," he said. His voice was deep, calm. But your body seemed to respond to his words. Your breathing began to calm down a bit.

Wolf's fingers found their way to the curve of your breasts, downwards, to your thighs, and to your crotch. The fingers traced the path between your open legs, and the touch on your intimate parts made them harden.

Wolf moved a little closer to you, his erection brushed against your thighs. The sensation overwhelmed you, frightened you. But somehow you knew it was normal. His fingers kept caressing you, kept finding their way to your nipples, to your ribs. And his lips found yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

And it was in that moment that you did it. His fingers found their way inside you, and something strange happened. The pain was intense for a moment, but it quickly turned into pleasure. The fingers traveled their way inside you, and each caress was like a wave of new, strange, and pleasurable sensations.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His breathing was labored, his gaze intense.

You nodded, your breath was also ragged.

The kisses became increasingly intense, and Wolf's fingers continued to explore your intimate parts. The sensation was intense, and you felt your legs opening a little more.

"That's it..." You didn't know what to say. You didn't know how to explain what was happening.

And it was then that the orgasm hit you. It was a wave of pleasure, of new and strange sensations. But somehow, it was something pleasant. In a way, it was liberating. Wolf's fingers withdrew a little, and his kisses became soft, reassuring.

"You're okay" he said. His lips brushed against yours, his breath calm.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asked in a whisper, his lips brushing against your ears.

You nodded, without breaking eye contact. Something inside you felt safe, something told you that you could trust their touch.

"You can stop whenever you want," he said. His voice was deep, calm. But your body seemed to respond to his words. Your breathing began to calm down a bit.

Wolf's fingers found their way to the curve of your breasts, downwards, to your thighs, and to your crotch. The touch was a new sensation, strange but pleasant. The fingers traced the path between your open legs, and the touch on your intimate parts made them harden. It was as if they responded to his caresses, as if they had a life of their own.

Wolf moved a little closer to you, his erection brushed against your thighs. The sensation overwhelmed you, frightened you. But somehow you knew it was normal. His fingers kept caressing you, kept finding their way to your nipples, to your ribs. And his lips found yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

And it was in that moment that you did it. His fingers found their way inside you, and something strange happened. The pain was intense for a moment, but it quickly turned into pleasure. The fingers traveled their way inside you, and each caress was like a wave of new, strange, and pleasurable sensations.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His breathing was labored, his gaze intense.

You nodded, your breath was also ragged.

The kisses became increasingly intense, and Wolf's fingers continued to explore your intimate parts, encountering something you didn't even know what it was. The sensation was intense, and you felt your legs opening a little more.

The fingers continued their journey inward.

And it was then that you saw it. His erection was erect, brushing against your thighs. It was big, hard, but somehow strangely attractive. And something in you wanted to see what you could do with it.

"Can I touch it?" you said in a whisper.

He nodded. His eyes sparkled a little more as he listened to you.

You took his erection between your fingers, and the touch was gentle. The touch against the skin was a strange but pleasant sensation, and something within you seemed to know what to do. You caressed him gently, and I saw his breath stop for a moment.

"That feels good," he said with a shaky voice. His gaze seemed more intense.

You smiled a little, and I kept stroking his erection. The touch was starting to make it harden a little more.

Wolf brought his lips closer to yours, and the kiss was passionate. Their breaths intertwined, their tongues found each other, and their fingers continued to caress your inner thigh.

And it was then that you felt something change. A new warmth, a deeper need. And something inside you wanted his erection to enter you.

"Do you want to do it?" you asked, your breathing had quickened a little more. You didn't know if she was ready for something like this, but something told you she was.

"I've been waiting for this all this time," she replied in a whisper. His gaze met yours.

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his face.

He took a condom from the nightstand, putting it on calmly, and that's how his erection found its way inside you. The touch was gentle at first, but when his head found your entrance, the pain was intense for a moment. Your breath caught, and you felt a slight pain that made you want it a little more.

"Are you okay? Do you want to continue?" he asked between kisses.

You nodded, and his erection slid a little deeper inside. The touch was like something moving inside you. And something strange awakened in your body.

And that's how it moved inward. The touch inside you was intense, it was a completely strange but pleasant sensation at the same time. It was as if he had found you in a place you had never been before. And every caress, every movement of his erection inside you made you feel something new, something deep.

"You are so beautiful," he said in a whisper as he continued moving inside you.

You smiled. His words made you feel safe. His caresses made you feel complete.

Her movements became increasingly faster, increasingly deeper. The kisses became more passionate, the touches more intense.

The sensation took over you. It was like an explosion of pleasure that you couldn't avoid. It was as if they had found you in a new, unknown, but pleasant place.

"Oh my god," you said, breathless.

He nodded his head. His erection kept moving inside you.

He came. The movements stopped for a moment, the touch of his erection inside you took over your entire body. The sensation was deep, intense, strange but pleasant.

When the two of them recovered a bit from the emotional outburst, things began to change. Reality returned, the reality of who they were, of what they had done.

You felt safe in his arms. You felt calm, relaxed. And it was in that moment when you knew that something else had changed. Something deeper than you ever imagined possible. Something that only the two of us knew.

The room had become quiet, but somehow you knew you shouldn't stay there for long. Your Miyagi-Do friends were starting to miss you, as you had disappeared and you didn't want that to reach your father's ears.

But before you left, Wolf hugged you a little tighter, kissing you one last time.

"Thank you," you said.

"You're welcome," he replied. His eyes shone in the darkness, and you smiled.

"I'll leave," you said. I have to go back.

"Yes" he replied, his expression calm, but it couldn't be denied that a shadow of sadness had appeared in his eyes.

You put on your gi as quickly as possible, while he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was as if he were thinking about something. But you couldn't know what it was.

[orcelito]

ok. i finally finished trigun 98.

that. Sure Was Something. it's rly interesting to see how the end of 98 compares to what nightow did in trimax. there are some similarities of course, but overall it felt really... simplified in comparison.

my final verdict is that Yeah trimax is still my fav trigun iteration, but by itself trigun 98 is a pretty emotionally fulfilling anime

[genderqueer-karma]

a before prosecution/identity headcanon! (under the cut)

i personally hc that manfred is transmasc, and that his wife is transfem.

that being said, i think they met in college in the 70s, but both of them were still presenting as their assigned genders at birth. i’d say that manfred was about 21 when the two of them met and his wife was about 19/20.

they came out to each other a few months after they started dating (which was at least a year after they met) and about a year later they socially transitioned.

the infinitely more important part, however, is that they were both a part of their university’s symphony orchestra. specifically in the first violin section.

why is this important? well, because i think his wife is around two years younger than him, meaning that when she got to be the concert master/first chair in their section, he was … a bit peeved.

he was the best in the section before she showed up, and he wouldn’t give up his spot so easily, especially to someone younger than him.

this sparked a healthy rivalry/competition between the two of them, which naturally culminated in them falling in love. mush, mush, and more mushy mush. the end <3

[loveanddeepdick]

ᯓ★ babydaddy!toji would never admit that he got jealous when you were around guys your age. he’d never get insecure, no, but he felt a deep pang of jealously in his chest. like he prayed that he had been born later so he could be more similar to you. your relationship with him was complicated. you were dating on and off but finally just settled as friends with benefits (who took care of a ridiculously cute baby together).

your parents often asked you why you dated a guy who was less than a decade away from being your father. your friends did the same too, not seeing the appeal in being with a “broke old man”. you never understood why toji just scoffed and looked away. it was out of character since he’d usually just cuss people out.

babydaddy!toji who let his jealousy show a little too much when you ran into an old high school friend of yours while you were out shopping. toji had to piss and you were waiting outside when he came up to you. shit, you didn’t even recognize him at first and the conversation was merely small talk but when toji came out, he had his arm around your waist, his hands coming down a little too low.

“this is your uh.. boyfriend, yeah?”, you friend asked, his eyes immediately going to the hand on your waist. most people just assumed you were single again.

“you could say that..”, you sheepishly replied, trying to swat toji’s hand away.

“tsk why’re you acting like i didn’t just dick you down and you didn’t carry my baby, ma? course you’re mine”, toji scoffed, looking away.

your eyes dart from your friend’s to his and it finally clicked. he was jealous. with a small smile, you excused yourself and tugged on the hem of toji’s shirt, signaling him to walk out to his car. the walk there was filled with short protests from him and silence from you. of course, he didn’t mean it, he loved this kind of attention from you. as you got to his car you rummaged through his pants pocket to grab his keys—not being shy to graze his dick—and unlocked the car.

babydaddy!toji who’d never admit he was jealous, even when you two were making out in the middle of a mall parking lot with your hand on his crotch.

“admit it, you still—ah, you still love me and you were jealous”

“course i fuckin love you—fuck yeah,keep your hand there—we’re long over, ma. didn’t you say we were just friends with benefits?”

“you’re avoiding the question, toji”

he had his hands all over you at this point, tugging at your shirt but you pulled away and furrowed your eyebrows.

“admit that you were jealous, old perv”

“fuck—fine. i was jealous. i hate seeing you with men younger than me. makes me feel old. happy now, doll?”, he leaned in again, grabbing your face as you kissed back with a smirk.

“yeah, i’m elated”, you grinned, trailing your hand up to play with his dark happy trail and dipping it in his sweatpants.

“don’t be a fuckin brat, ma. m’gonna give you a second snotty little shit if you keep this up”, toji growled, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone

“yeah?“, you smirked, tangling your fingers in his hair as you guided him down, “keep that promise and maybe we’ll get married”

babydaddy!toji who was definitely going to take you in the backseat for hours. fuck driving home.

babydaddy!toji who nearly died at the spot from the news of you being pregnant not with just one baby, but twins. you ended the year with a ring and a freshly painted nursery.

[nataliedecorsair]

I wanted to give you some of Pticenoga's Borderlands AU backstory, how she was raised by Shade and before starting her shenanigans with Vaughn.

Plus a bonus comic about how she decided to set up a meeting for Vaughn and Shade, but didn't tell Vaughn who is supposed to be there x) Mostly because Vaughn has met Shade before in his macabre World of Curiosities museum and thought that Shade is too weird for him. Well, that's the kind of person that would raise a feral harpy siren, gotta deal with it!

When she was very young, nothing bothered her much as she was just a wild baby exploring the world x) And Shade was a good father figure to her. However, as she grew older, she realized that she doesn't really "fit in": yeah, Pandora is a crazy planet, but not every person there is crazy. There are plenty of "regular folk" like Shade or other people from their town - and many others. And she was frequently called a monster, a mutant and many other things by the regular kids and even adults. She was wild though, could bite them or fight with them in a pretty feral manner, and, even though she protected herself, it didn't help the situation much. She wasn't crazy enough (and too small) to fit in with the psychos or bandits, was "too human" for actual monsters living on Pandora, and for a long time she had no idea she was a Siren, as even for Sirens she looked too different. Only when she hit her teens, she was able to confirm that she is one, started using her powers, and in her human form she could see the full extension of the glowing pattern she had on her skin. She still, however, didn't know why she wasn't born "normal", and there were no older Sirens around.

At some point, she decided to become independent and live on her own. Her "wild" upbringing was helping that a lot, and she felt fine being away from people. She'd still visit Shade frequently, of course, and at some point she'd even met Zer0 and could hang out with him for some time. As Zer0 is a mystery himself, they had some common ground between them (though constantly listening to his haiku were exhausting xD). Sadly, Vault Hunters attract attention, not always positive, and that was the reason why she got spotted by a big bandit gang (could be the beginning of Vallory's gang, but before she took over). And local scientists like Tannis already declared that there may be some connection between Sirens and the Vaults. And they noticed that she's a Siren, but also pretty young (and dumb). After the first Vault on Pandora was opened, there was plenty of weird and valuable stuff around, but it wasn't so easy to get it when you're just regular bandits. And when Eridians, the aliens that are guarding the Vault, are everywhere. The Sirens like Lilith were too strong for them, and hiring a Vault Hunter is expensive, so they decided to wriggle into her favor and use her to gain access to the area. She didn't know she was dealing with bandits first, she naively thought it's a rare case of nice fellows just wanting to be friends and such, plus the Vault could have answers about her origin, and the new "friends" confirmed it.

At some point, she realized she was being used, and got into a fight with the bandits - and lost, as there were too many of them, and she had too little experience, and they knew about Shade. She got kidnapped and told that she'd do everything they told her to do, or they'd kill Shade, so she had to obey. She helped them to fight the way to the Vault and get some of the riches, and during the process she felt that she really does have a connection with Eridians - they boosted her powers and helped her to get free, and kill every presenting member of the gang. She was worried about Shade though, so she left immediately to find him before the remaining members found out what happened and could harm him. But she was too late - the water source in their town of Oasis was poisoned, and every single person there died. Except Shade though - he lasted longer, but dehydration made him insane, and he turned corpses into the stuffed dummies he could talk to (though she didn't have much of a problem with this part). As she was gone for at least several months, he didn't believe she's real, and she had to adapt to the new reality.

She never got back to the Vault after that as she felt it was a source of more trouble than anything good (in her view, the price was too much for a bunch of physical stuff).

That lasted for years, and became a bit easier as her powers, enhanced by the Eridians, wasn't only serving the destruction,  but could eventually "heal" some part of Shade's mind, so the moments of clarity became more frequent (she didn't know it's the reason, though). And you still need money, whether you like it or not, so, when Shade decided to use his World of Curiosities as a spot of illegal deals and smuggling, she didn't resist, but would watch over him in the shadows in case something goes wrong.

Eventually, she calmed down and just embraced herself. And, after some time, she met Vaughn, whose personal struggles she could sense right away, as she had to experience "being different" herself.