#OR he could have just fucked off because he couldn't provide for his family during the depression

[jymwahuwu]

wingweaver anon here again XD.

i come back with silly brainrots. what if the reader has those hormonal shifts during spring and summer time and starts nesting, gathering pillows and blankets and little trinkets and comfort items close by. and she WANTS to let jing yuan in...perhaps she's grown used to the intimacy they share, perhaps not.

...but...she can't help but feel...unimpressed with him.

yes he's very impressive and yes he's sweet but...he's not really DONE much to woo her now has he? instinct dictates she push him away and find a more suitable mate, one with a better song, who will present better food and shiny items to you.

aka reader is going through her mating season and is very deprived and needy and fully expects jing yuan to show the proper etiquette before even DARING to set foot into her nest he gets scratched otherwise.

jing yuan : no let me in?

reader : you're cute, but you have no shiny. you don't sing. you haven't offered to preen me, or get me berries. what kind of man are you?

jing yuan : :000000 wait wot-

in the end, he does impress reader enough to be let in, and the first thing he does is grab her by the leg, pull her close and give her the fucking of a lifetime. surely the idea of starting a family wouldn't be too far off? look, she's even prepared a nest tp hold them, and he'll be a good father, providing for his little bird and their young ones.

( i'm sorry, you really don't have to write this out. i just think it would be hilarious just...watching jing yuan flounder because his darling???? is being fussy???? she wants him to sing for her?????? she wants berries and shinies????????? and then he just...sits down and gets cracking on general bird mating behaviors while reader is sitting in the corner like "well??? are you going to make a move or should i find someone else????" )

-CW: yandere, dub-con, breeding

part 1

This brainrot is too adorable!! Jing Yuan’s most precious little bird is going through her estrus… Although you didn’t ask for it, I wrote a little bit🫢🤗💖

Even General Xianzhou couldn't expect this, you just have wings after all. He didn't expect you to be in heat like a bird. It’s really interesting to see this hundreds of years old man overwhelmed 🤭

Jing Yuan immediately searched for the keywords "birds + estrus + wingweaver" in the database, and those holographic data blocks immediately swam around him. His eyes were darting around and reading the information he needed, and you were already… squirming on the nest? It was actually a bed with cozy blankets on it. You pouted and puffed out your cheeks, glaring at him angrily. The instinct in your head is calling you to find a better mate, one who will pursue you appropriately. Maybe your confused mind thinks he is a savage bird kidnapping you back to his nest…

Bird courtship behavior:

Singing

Display beautiful feathers

Bring delicious food and shiny stones as gifts

Decorate the love nest together

Dancing

Demonstrate hunting ability

…

There won't be enough time to order berries or collect trinkets for you. You're already questioning him. So… Jing Yuan took off his armor and robe… showing off his burly and well-trained chest and shoulders. He smiled leisurely at you. Your distracted eyes focused, and you felt heat radiating from your neck, your legs began to lose strength, and your wings trembled and fluttered. "you- you……"

"Shhh, come to me. Here's your preen." Jing Yuan opened his arms and simulated the sound of people teasing their pet birds.

You snuggled into his comforting arms. The sensitive wings are carefully groomed. You were about to assume a position that would allow for mating, but the general had already caught you and started breeding. You rocked on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders and moaning softly. After a round of breeding, your legs were once again pinned as high as they could by his hands. His fat cock is thrusting upwards, thrusting inside your throbbing needy cunt.

It was finally burned into your head - no one could pursue you like he could, no one could mate with you like he could. Jing Yuan is the only spouse you need💖

divider @/cafekitsune

#yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere hsr x reader #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x female reader

[lifeandlies-of-regulusblack]

Alphard adopts Regulus AU

WE LOVE AN ECCENTRIC FATHER FIGURE AU. YAS REGULUS GET YO'SELF A PROPER FATHER! read on for wholesome content.

I imagine Sirius running away and Alphard getting wind of this. Instead of remaining in the shadows, he reaches out. He's never been close to any of his siblings' children and Sirius Black only manages to evoke a blurry memory of a little boy who used to strut around in family galas. Shrill voice often attracting the ire of his parents. Alphard thinks the boy had a shadow — so much smaller than Sirius. But with Sirius barely striking up an image in his mind, the other remains an elusive memory.

But just before he leaves, Sirius is all like "I have a brother. He's not bad like them but he thinks he can't leave."

AND IT'S ALPHARD WHO REACHES OUT TO REGULUS. I have so many thoughts. Let's go!

Because Sirius isn't enough. Sirius has an entire village behind him, pulling him out of his family and just ONE person who he may think of as a reason to stay.

Regulus has an entire village pulling him back and one person who he can think of as a reason to leave for. Regulus who has been soooooo isolated from anyone else whose family IS his end all be all. If Regulus leaves, he practically has no one. The Potters have never been his people he doesn't know them. And Sirius can't POSSIBLY keep him safe in Hogwarts. Regulus has no adult support.

But imagine A RELATIVE, A BLACK coming up to him and slowly working him out of that stupid fucking house! AN ADULT who can pull him out of Hogwarts! AN ADULT who can give him a home!! Because as much as the brothers want to make it work, Regulus needs someone who can provide not just emotional support but also both financial security AND SAFETY.

Regulus just needed an adult, I think. Well, nope. He needed a lot of things. Because that's what it takes to get out of an abusive (already cult-ish) family. A lot.

But Alphard. Alphard could've been a key player.

Alphard could be this eccentric father figure to Regulus. A man, who for Regulus, gave Sirius a shit ton of money, listened to his brother, and reached out to take him away.

Alphard, knowing how Regulus couldn't possibly be safe in Slytherin anymore — takes him out of Hogwarts and enrols him to Beauxbatons. And he becomes much more annoyingly French. And during the summer Alphard will tease him about his French accent that increasingly colors his English. Beauxbatons helps with Regulus' indoctrinated and learned bigotry even though it's hard the first few months. But there's no Slytherin house to hide behind anymore. People don't tolerate it there. However, just as much as it's a steep learning curve, learning to unlearn his upbringing, it's just as easy to keep on growing out of it, too. He breaks free from a manipulative echo chamber.

Alphard does more than help with this. They'll have conversations that end up with Regulus shedding tears of frustration because it's hard to unlearn the way you've been taught to see the world since childhood... usually under threat of punishment. Sometimes, his eyes will fill with tears of guilt and embarrassment, often when revelations are met, and he looks back at what he's said and done. But he's only 13/14. He improves so much because he cares. He was taught wrong. Alphard makes sure his boy gets all the same love, care, and comfort no matter how their conversations end.

And Sirius will visit... Sometimes... And it'll be a gradual rekindling of their frayed relationship. Alphard plays mediator. For the first time, in his life, Regulus has an adult who's on HIS SIDE.

Alphard may or may not be a little cuckoo but in the most endearing way. Rivaled by how much this drives Regulus crazy. Like. He doesn't like trousers. So, he wears his boxers around the house and Regulus has to scream at him to knock it off and, "Please, there are things your nephew shouldn't have to see! Nephews shouldn't be subjected to the sight of uncles in their underpants!"

And Alphard will gleefully reply, "Oh dear, Reggie boy, you've yet to understand what true liberation feels like!" he'll meet his boy's eyes and say, "Thinkers. Eccentrics. Free people, like us? We have souls that yearn for expression that make us feel alive." Alphard will make a show of gesturing to his legs and add, "But trousers? Why they limit the mind! They suffocate! They contain! They most certainly do not express." And before Regulus can open his mouth to retaliate, "Most importantly, I find them uncomfortable."

Alphard will play the piano in the middle of the night when he can't sleep. And this keeps Regulus up 😅 so he, in turn, becomes a coffee gremlin. Sometimes, Regulus will sit beside him and play along. Their first composition is titled, "Yearning for a blue, blue, sky"

They have their uncle and nephew days filled with cringe activities that Alphard wants to do.

• build a cottage together (Alphard sprains his ankle)

• go camping but with muggle equipment only (Regulus DESPISES THIS because he doesn't like getting sweaty. He also doesn't like labor. So, he secretly starts a fire with an incendio when he thinks Alphard isn't looking. Alphard saw, of course. He hides both their wands away until the trip is over. But UH OH! he forgets where he put them, so they look for them FOR HOURS. By the time they find their wands Regulus is so cross with him. Won't even look at him. He's so mad.)

• write letters to each other (Regulus is bad at articulating feelings with an adult so he draws Alphard little doodles in his card instead and his uncle lets this slide. Regulus isn't good at drawing, so they don't look nice at all but this is still easier than telling an adult how he feels. One time they do letters again, Regulus is angry — so he draws Alphard a squiggly mess of an angry black blob.)

• try muggle divination (a magic 8ball)

Regulus learns what unconditional love looks like. Regulus comes to understand what true safety feels like. Regulus comes to terms with what it means to be human and make mistakes. Regulus learns to shed transactional intimacy and support because Alphard, time and time again, has shown up to pick him up — and offer him an unquestioned space in his life and in his heart.

Regulus heals.

And Alphard? He learns to live for someone else. He learns that he too, just like his nephew, had lived a life so bereft of love and compassion. Alphard is forced out his self-hating spirals because caring for his nephew has taken up all his time. He mends his boy's broken heart and unwittingly mends his, too. His house becomes a home. With him, is a French-speaking, twig of a boy with a very short temper. Regulus has become the closest thing he'll have to a son and the thought makes him very happy. Regulus who cares for him, returns his compassion, with a silent, focused energy. Regulus who makes him lists. Regulus who brews potions for his arthritis. Regulus, who buys him his first cane. Regulus, who wordlessly opens all the jars that need to be opened. Regulus who sits and plays piano with him.

*hello, hello! i can't help but write about our favorite boy, Regulus Black, all the time :/ I'm a Black Brothers enthusiast and will rave about them, ALL THE TIME. I write about them too! Click here for more of my stuff: beep boop i bring you reggie feels

PLEASE consider giving me a reblog if you enjoyed this :3 of you did, then someone else might like it too! this gets my writing to people who may like the things i write ~

#regulus black #sirius and regulus #alphard black #marauders headcanon #regulus headcanon #black brothers #the black brothers #marauders era #hp marauders #sirius black #beauxbatons #the noble and most ancient house of black #walburga black #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #regulus arcturus black #hp fanfiction #slytherin boys #harry potter #my writing

[bookshelf-dust]

you wanna talk about it?

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,874

warnings: swearing, anxiety, anxious habits (lip picking), mentions of blood, reader has family struggles to work through, insecurities (brief mention of weight/looks), vulnerability, mentions of alcohol drinking, fluff

a/n: hi! this is meant to be some holiday season comfort. i know that spending time with family can be hard, or stressful, or annoying, and i'm struggling with it, so i wanted to *hopefully* provide you with some support if you're feeling any of this!! this was very self-indulgent, but i hope that maybe you'll like it. i love you all. <333 (also please come back to this gif when you're done. i imagine this is how he's looking at you.)

————

"What's the matter?"

Billy's hand slid into yours, palm warm and audibly rough. He was sat on the couch next to you, where you hadn't realized he was paying you any attention.

Your leg was bouncing up a storm, a constant shake. On top of that, your middle finger and thumb were picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

He was sure you'd drawn blood by now, considering the way your eyes fluttered shut when you ran your tongue along the fragile skin.

You were no stranger to these feelings, shit, they'd become all you knew. And Billy wasn't either. He'd been anxious his whole life, so he knew when you were feeling that way too, no matter how much you tried to keep it to yourself.

You looked down at his hand in yours before pulling your fingers away from your lips and sitting on them. Busted.

"Just really don't wanna see them today."

"I know, baby."

He squeezed your hand.

Your home life hadn't been anything like Billy's, and while you were grateful that it hadn't been that hard, that's not to say it wasn't at all. Not to say your parents hadn't made you feel less than sometimes, hadn't listened to you, or hadn't made you feel like a burden.

Billy understood what that felt like. "Shared trauma" and all that.

Outside a few visits with Susan, mainly because he loved Max, and Max did have a present mother (even if she wasn't the best), unlike himself, that was it for Billy's "family" interactions. He didn't see Neil anymore at all. You and Max were the extent of his real family, and he liked it that way.

So when you had to see your family, your parents and aunts and uncles and all that extended bullshit, the few times you couldn't get away with—like during the holidays—he tried to be there for you. He wanted to be there for you.

Billy let go of your hand, moved away from you. You watched as he settled against the arm of the couch, stretching his legs out and spreading them wide. He held his arms aloft. "C'mere."

You did, wiggling into the space he'd left for you, back to his chest, arms resting on his thick thighs. He closed his legs a little, trapping you in his space, keeping you safe. That's how it felt when you sat like this. Like nothing bad could happen since he was right there.

Billy's chin came to rest on the top of your head, hands rubbing at your shoulders, gently messing with your hair. "You wanna talk about it? What exactly it is that's buggin' you about seeing them?"

You slid down further in his lap, and Billy wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from completely escaping him.

"It's just that...they've always got something to say. About my weight, or my hair, or what I'm wearing, or i-if i talk too loud."

That one struck a nerve for Billy. He knew that when you got excited about something, you tended to get a little louder. It was a side effect of you being happy. He loved it and it had never bothered him. Knowing that you'd been shutting those things off because of your family hurt him.

"If I don't talk enough, if I'm too quiet," you continued.

Billy hummed in acknowledgment, signaling to you to keep going. His hands rubbed at the soft skin of your tummy, kneading at the fat there, comforting you.

"And they ask me these surface level questions, you know? Like fucking small talk, like we aren't family and they don't know me. It'd just be nice to have them ask about my real life, especially when I have to listen to them blab about their endeavors all the time."

"What are you studying? How are you feeling? What are you into? Anything would be nice. I just feel like a stranger when I'm there. And half the time it's like they forget I'm even there. Sometimes I think that genuinely no one would notice if I was there or not. I really don't think it makes a difference whether or not I show."

After that, you took a deep breath, and quieted. Billy didn't say anything for a moment, processing.

"Would it be okay if I talked shit about your family for a moment?"

Billy had been around them a good bit after having been with you for so long, enough to know when they said things that upset you, to see how they interacted with each other and then with you.

Your family hadn't always been like that. So standoffish.

It was as you got older, and got to know them as people, grew into your own, that you realized they were kind of assholes sometimes.

And it felt like you didn't fit in anymore. Like maybe you hadn't turned out like they'd wanted. And even if that wasn't the case, that's how they made you feel because you were different.

Quiet. Hardworking. You had dreams and ambitions and didn't want to live in the same place forever like they had, send your kids to the same schools they'd gone to. Hell, you didn't even want children.

And you had Billy. It was the two of you against the world. This boy with long hair and an earring and a growing collection of leather accoutrements.

Billy was determined to make you feel seen as you'd done for him. And recently you were trying to open up about these feelings to your family, slowly, but surely. It was a process.

"Yeah, go ahead," you laughed a little, "I really don't mind."

You snuggled further into Billy's chest, and he squeezed you. He smelled like his woody cologne, of his shampoo, and of cinnamon from the apple pie he'd made earlier. He smelled like home.

"I really fuckin' hate that they've made you feel this way. Like you're an outcast in your own family just because you're not an asshole who likes to talk about everyone else's bullshit. I mean, last time we were there, your cousins talked out of their asses about their friends. What the hell is that about? If they don't like 'em, I really don't know why they're friends at all."

"And I hate that they talk over you, and make jokes when you're loud like the whole neighborhood can't hear them blabbing anyways."

"I just want you to know that I'm here and I see you and I love all the little things about you that they might not." He planted a kiss on your forehead, lips warm and a little chapped because of the weather.

"It kills me that you think no one would notice if you were gone. I know you mean them, obviously, but I can't do this without you, you know."

You could feel his nose rubbing across your scalp, breathing you in.

"And I'll play spoons with you tonight even if no one else wants to and it's not technically supposed to be a two person game. Though I can't promise it won't get violent."

You sat up, and he let you move until you were straddling his legs, both hands firmly settled on his cheeks. You didn't say anything for a little while, squishing his face up with your hands, making him grumpier by the minute.

Though he didn't push you off, because he secretly liked it. You stared at Billy, running the pad of your thumb over the tips of his eyelashes, through the slit in his eyebrow, over the freckles at the tops of his cheeks.

"You are very aggressive at spoons. But it's worth it to see you wrestle over one with my sister. And better when you win."

Billy's cheeks flushed pink and you giggled. He always said you were the only person who'd ever been able to fluster him so easily.

You thought about his other words for a second. "So that means you like it when I squish up your pretty face like this?" He grinned and pried a hand away from his temple to kiss your palm.

"No. I fucking hate it."

You smiled at him, admiring the way he was looking at you. "Thank you for saying all that. Also I'm going to be sincere with you if you need to take a deep breath."

You watched as he dramatically inhaled, and then you dropped your hands to his lap, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"I really appreciate that you notice all of the little things and that you support me and everything. I can't do this without you either. I love you, Billy."

He lifted your chin up to make you meet his eyes. "I love you too, Y/N."

When Billy kissed you, it wasn't urgent or rough. It was sweet, and he took his time, pressing all of his feelings and admiration for you directly against your mouth. And it took your breath away.

————

That night, your family asked questions about what you wanted to do after college, what you hoped to do. They asked the same of Billy. You blushed at the idea of him being a mechanic, of having his own shop.

You were thinking about Billy written in little red letters on a gray uniform, him having his hair tied up, when the very same boy set apple pie down in front of you. He'd been simultaneously fixing pie and talking, ever the charmer.

He clocked your flustered look, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he sat next to you.

"Proud of you. Being so strong."

You could've melted. Become one with the wooden chair beneath your ass.

Your grandmother, who you'd talked to about your feelings, and you thought maybe Billy had too, noticed when you hadn't said much and would ask you something or just talk to you.

After dessert, a cousin asked if you wanted to play spoons. It ended up being a whole group game, and unnecessarily aggressive.

At the end, it was down to you and Billy. You watched him shuffle the cards, silver rings glinting under the overhead light. He smirked at you while separating out your cards.

"Good luck, baby."

"Fuck you, Hargrove."

Billy laughed loudly, tossing his head back in glee at your competitive streak.

Table strewn with reds and blues, kings and queens, you had three sevens. Your heart was pounding as you watch not only Billy's hands, but the cards he was practically launching across the wooden surface at you. Your family watched from either side of the two of you, biting their nails or taking shots.

Queen, three, three, five, seven.

You almost screamed. You tucked the card in your hand and reached, snatching the metal spoon off of the table and slamming your cards down as you did.

You laughed maniacally. "Suck my dick, Hargrove!"

You'd never won against him before. This was groundbreaking.

Billy stood up. "You fucker. You little shit." There was no venom in his words though, as he was smiling the whole time.

He pulled you into him, smacking a kiss on your lips. "Congratulations, baby. We're going again though."

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #christmas fic #holiday fic #billy hargrove christmas fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy stranger things #savannah’s fics

[adelheidvonschicksal]

sorry about that ask, i'm so incredibly excited i'm shaking and i had to turn off my video i was listening to because i couldn't concentrate! anyway, i'd like to request JJK with megumi!/older-half sister who he only meets because she's getting engaged forcibly to naoya, i want him lusting at first sight and angstily pining a bit and them fucking in the her marital bed before the wedding while naoya off at his bachelor party or w/e. with creampie and the reader initiating the sex! is this okay?

Title: My Empire of Dirt

Pairing: Bro! Megumi x Sis! Reader; ft. Naoya x Niece(?)Reader; the family tree is a wreathe.

Content Warning: Graphic Incest (Half-sibling); angst; maladaptive coping; manipulation; smut; dubious consent; physical abuse; mentions of arranged marriage, breeding mentions; mentions of forced impregnation (no pregnancy);

Summary: In which, the Zen'in princess finds herself wanting to get even with not only the man forcing her into a marriage she doesn't want but also the family that abandoned her. It doesn't feel as good as she expected.

Notes: BTW! I loved the enthusiasm of this request xD I tried to fit as much in as possible. I had to re-write so often that I'm sure I missed something during editing.

It’s beginning to dawn on you that you may not be as good of a person as you’ve always thought of yourself. You try your best not to be a burden and to help where you can; you’ve left more bowls of milk out for the strays than you can count. When you compare that to the other members of your hedonistic bastard family then it’s easy to see how you managed to fool yourself into believing that you weren’t that bad.

Certainly, you aren’t as bad as your father, who left you behind at a young age. He knew. He knew how this clan functions. He knew that there would be no future for you here. Your only saving grace in this clan is only because of the potential of your womb. Surely, the chances of you bearing the next ten shadows user are exceptionally high, courtesy of the blood of the very same bastard flowing through your veins. You’re sure he knew that’s the only use the clan could have for a girl, barely a woman, like you. Still, Toji left you here to rot. And you’re certain you’re rotten all the way down to the core, just like everyone else that carries your last name.

That’s why it comes as no surprise to you that your uncle Naoya sought the quickest opportunity to snatch you up the minute the clan elder talked about marrying you off, or that he managed to orchestrate a wedding in less than a month; with a lovely venue provided at the school for your great clan with shared accommodations for you and your…husband.

It gives him the opportunity to shove you to the bed, one knee crumpled against your crotch as he pins you down, but you can’t find enough emotion to care. You accepted this a long time ago. “I hate that you and Maki always have that same condescending look. Can’t you at least show a little feeling?” he taunts. You’re sure he’s truly upset, unable to get a rise out of you as you thrust your hands against his chest in a desperate attempt to shove him away. “I absolutely can’t wait to make you cry.”

His tongue snakes along your bruised cheeks, and you strain your neck to get away from the perverse action, which only makes him laugh harder. “Get off of me, damned pig!”

Naoya smiles, absolutely amused by your frustration. “Fine, but don’t think you can keep up this defiant attitude forever,” he warns but you refuse to take his bait and focus on fixing your wrinkled clothes.

Huffing, you wrap your arm around the bedpost to keep yourself steady all the while controlling your breathing to allow your frustration to wash away. Naoya busies himself, speedily pacing around the room and collecting his things.

“Where are you going?” Your question isn’t out of concern for him. Simply, you question to figure out exactly how much peace you’d have for the night and how much hope to build up that he might never return from where he’s going.

“The men in the clan are throwing me a little party,” he explains. “Call it a last night of freedom.”

“Typical.” You don’t know why you thought he’d at least have the decency to pretend to be a good husband in public. “Don’t know why I expected any better.”

“Isn’t it normal to want to celebrate our impending marriage?” He turns to you and a slither of a hand crisscrossing over your thigh makes you want to hurl. “Unless you want me to stay. We can work on making our very own Megumi tonight.”

You cringe and jerk your body away from him, your filter breaking in the process. “You’re disgusting. A pathetic excuse for a man jealous of a boy half—” you didn’t get to finish your complaint as he shoved you to the floor and the sting of a kick makes you yelp like a dog.

“I see I still got to teach you some respect come tomorrow.”

Despite the burning in your ribs, you count yourself lucky that he only kicked you twice this time, and you slowly stand to your feet when you hear the angelic sound of your room door closing.

You throw on your jacket and a pair of jeans before following his example and leaving the room. You’re not sure how long you aimlessly wander the streets of Tokyo with no particular destination in mind. If you had somewhere to call home, then you probably would never return. Alas, the closest thing you can achieve to peace is being far away from your family.

“What are you doing out by yourself?” You guess you couldn’t escape all of them as you come face to face with your brother. “It isn’t safe to be out by yourself.”

And you notice how he shifts his gaze to a low-level curse blended into the surroundings of the city. It hides and chitters behind the light post. It’s nothing you consider more than the fireflies of cursed spirits, fluttering around human metro areas, and they’re about as equally as threatening as said bugs. But you guess in his eyes, you’re someone who needs protection, which you think you would have liked having someone to protect you at some point in your life but it’s about ten years too late and now unnecessary. 

“I don’t get to go out to the city much, and I guess I got a little lost,” you explain.

“I’m heading back now if you want to follow,” he offers to your surprise.

You didn’t expect him to offer since he hasn’t been able to build up the courage to talk to you very often. The day he first saw you even, you could see the shock spreading across his feature. You thought it was from seeing his estranged sister after all this time until you realize he had absolutely no idea who you were other than the Zen’in princess staying at the school for the next few days along with the other great clans attending the wedding. Figures for Toji not to mention you. You wonder if your father even remembers your name.

Then, you find that he’s often watching you, which garners the familiar sinking sensation inside you of being hunted. Luckily, he never attempted to do anything other than catch the little flickers of your image or to embarrassedly avoid your gaze when it met his. When you managed to talk to him, it was friendly, if not a little awkward. It didn’t take you long to figure out he’s attracted to you, at least sexually. If there was something more, you didn’t know since you weren’t versed in the world of genuine emotion aside from anger and deceit rampant in the Zen’in clan.

You wonder if his attraction is another reason Naoya is wary of you being alone with him. There’s no doubt the clan would much rather you try to produce an heir with Megumi, the potential rewards outweighing the risks of such a union. You almost laugh imagining how pissed off Naoya would look if your engagement switched over. He’d probably explode if he even knew you were talking to your brother. So, who can fault you for wanting to tease the situation a little bit? Maybe if you get lucky, Naoya will catch the two of you together as you walk past the neon lights of the bars and clubs, and you could gaslight him about it later.

It's like magic how easy it is to make the waterworks start, a sniffle then two swiped away by the long arm of your jacket. Megumi’s knuckles beat at the back of your hand, his fingertips nervously curling under yours before fluttering back to the safety of his side, too afraid to take the plunge to hold an engaged woman’s hand even if she’s crying. Even if the tiny pitter patters in his chest when he looked at her told him she deserved better than the obviously swollen cheek on your face. Megumi curses under his breath. He wants to tell you that you should run away from that family, don’t look back, burn the bridge so they can’t follow, but that’s easier said than done.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, knowing that it would never be enough, but the words are all he can offer right now. He hopes it is enough so you can at least find comfort when he finally breaks the resistance in his mind to hold your hand. You accept the action readily, making a shiver goes down his spine when you smile back and intertwine your fingers with his.

When you reach your room back at the school, he sits with you on your bed and places a gauze over your cheek to help with the swelling. Can’t let the Zen’in princess walk around with a wound on her face. You almost feel guilty for playing with him like this. He’s kinder than most people you’ve met. Then you remember, if he had grown up in the clan, he probably would’ve treated you the same as everyone else. He’d probably scrambled to marry you, just like Naoya.

You’re unashamedly jealous that he had the good fortune to be born a blessing, with a dad that chose him, leaving a part of you that wanted to spite Megumi as well. It’s a selfish desire but you deserve to have something. Megumi owes you that ever since your father married his mother and left the clan.

“I’ll get some ice.”

You grip his arm, drawing his attention back to you before he has a chance to get up. “What would I have to offer for you to take me away from this place,” you ask him. It’s always something you wanted to ask Toji; how many letters would it take for him to choose to rescue you, too. But now it’s too late as the only thing remaining for you is to scrape up as much fairness as you can from this world, even if it means doing it until your hands bleed.

“You know I can’t do that,” Megumi answers after what seems like an eternity, knowing now more than ever he shouldn’t be here, alone, with you. Weeping, you crane towards him, gripping the front of his shirt with both fists and dropping your head against his chest. You can sense him physically tensing at your touch, his heavy breathing echoing above you, and he’s a step awkward when he finally makes the decision to cup the back of your head in a short hug.

When you pull away, he’s searching for something you can’t quite understand, with an emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of knowing as you catch a highlight of sorrow flashing in his eyes. His thumb brushes away a fresh tear leaking from you. It invites the opportunity for you to give him what he’s probably been thinking about for a while now in the form of parted glossed covered skin and soft sighs. There’s a split moment of uncertainty before he gives in and kisses you back. You take the time to savor the moment, drawing it out to reel him further in with the taste of your lips and the flex of your tongues bumping together.

His hands tread around you, squeezing you into his strong hold. The tightness and desperateness at which he hangs onto you reveals that you might have had more influence over him than you originally realized, and you also find that you like his build much better than your fiancé’s, strong and muscular but not overbearing. Sweetly, you paint his neck with gentle kisses, and you test the waters of desire with a needy squeeze of his crotch.

The groan from his lips along with the arching of his hips up into your touch jolts your heart even if it’s the result you wanted. It’s almost perfect. You take the extra step to settle yourself onto his lap and lower your arms around his shoulders to play with the hair at his nape. “Naoya is never gentle, but you would be gentle with me, wouldn’t you, Fushiguro?”

Megumi swallows thickly to where you can see his Adam’s apple bob, and you can hear his throat is dry as he tries to collect and voice his thoughts with a harsh rasp. “…We shouldn’t,” he chokes out, which makes you want to scream. “It’ll only make things worse.”

“No one has to know,” you try to pedal back, letting the line out a little bit to give him enough room to relax before reeling him back in. “I thought maybe…you liked me.”

“You’re getting the wrong idea. I want to but,” he admits, not that you needed to hear it when you can feel the imprint of his dick against your ass, “you’re not in your head right now.”

“I am thinking clearly, Fushiguro,” you correct. You’re probably thinking more clearly than you ever had before. You only needed this one thing. “I just…need to know what it feels like, to have someone care about me, please just this once.”

And maybe he really does think he’s your knight as you look to him pleadingly to solve all your problems in the world with something he can only give you. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Probably not until morning,” you answer. Though, you really hope he comes home sooner. You’d trade your very soul to have him walk in on this scene, with your legs spread over Megumi’s lap and his large hands climbing up your backside.

“More than enough time then,” he mumbles, tenderly drawing circles into your hips before flipping you over and closing you onto the bed. He watches your face, taking a few deep breaths as his mind keeps repeating that he’s really doing this with you, that you’re much more gorgeous underneath him than he’d imagined.

If this is a dream, he hopes he doesn’t wake up. You’re so, so beautiful, and his heart swells when he thinks you’ll look even more dreamy in your wedding dress.

Megumi kisses your cheek then your jaw as he begins to push up your jacket and shirt, exposing your stomach to his series of kisses and nips. It’s like he’ll never be able to get enough of you fast enough. Hopefully, you wouldn’t see him as desperate from the way he cautiously squeezes your waist and nuzzle into the warmth of your chest.

You hold in a hiss as he too accurately drags over your wounded side. The pain only makes you more excited as it reminds you of your fiancé, of the fact that you’re about to fuck the man who irritates him the most in the very spot he sleeps in, and you can’t wait to rub the fact in his face that he isn’t going to be the one to rid you of your virtue like he so bragged. Instead, your little brother would have the honor since he so clambered for the chance to fuck his own sister without so much as even questioning your position on the family tree, a circle at this rate surely. You wonder if you should ask if that turned him on as he pushes your top above your head.

A smile slivers on your face. “That isn’t fair, you need to undress too,” you tell him. He folds and listens to you without argument; and you can’t deny that it was making you excited to have him under your commands the same way everything about you made him excited from your lips teasing at his neck, the way your hands glide over his bare skin, the squeeze of your thighs cushioning around his hips.

You weren’t expecting him to get hard so fast, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. You have plenty of time, and the more he can give the better for you.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, and it makes your lungs burn from the sharp gasp you take in as he sucks on your nipple. You’d have to remember to tell Naoya that Megumi thought—you squash the thought. It was too painful to think about, and you wanted to focus on other things as he begins to pull off your pants.

This is something Megumi thinks Naoya wouldn’t probably do for you, and he almost asks if your fiancé has ever thought about more than his own pleasure but the glossy look in your eyes tells him to not bring up something that would undoubtedly cause you more heartache, not when you’re crooning into the air and your hands are tangling into his hair in desperate grips to match the feeling washing over you.

He starts, gently at first, but harder as your moans escalate with the shifting of his tongue over your clit. You tense as you feel something cold entering you but quickly start arching when he adds a second finger, pressing and tickling at your sensitive nerves.

“Fushiguro,” you whisper in strangled breaths, stomach convulsing with each knotted clench of your lower body. And he hopes, at least this much, will make him someone you think about in the future when your hands release his hair to grip the sheets under you.

Though, you’re too busy thinking it might be worth having your engagement switched over if he can use his tongue like that, in a way that has your vision skipping.

He’s definitely self-satisfied by the time he’s finished and gazing up at you. But it isn’t enough to satisfy you, not until you seal the deal, go all the way until there’s absolutely no ignoring what’s happened between the two of you.

You sit up to kiss him hard, catching him by surprise again. You don’t break away from him until you have him underneath you, your legs splayed around him, hands working fast to work down his slacks enough to uncover his cock.

He pulls onto your hips, encouraging you to stroke him along your wet cunt. He continues until he’s lined up with you, and there’s a split hesitation as he asks, “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” is your answer, and you take the lead to slide yourself over his cock and begin to roll your hips to push further downward, which causes you to sigh. “Fushi-Fushiguro.”

He heaves, deep and heavy, his expression short of being taken over by lust as he ruts into you. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Good,” he states, sitting up to hug his arms around your back and kiss and bite your neck as you grind and bounce on top of him. You whimper into his skin, hiding your stuttering whimpers against his shoulder.

You grind your hips down against his, his face scrunching shut as he chokes down a moan. You can feel it, feel him pulsing harder inside you as his breathing speeds up and his chest rises and falls against the rhythm of your own.

“Close,” he spits out, hiding his head in your shoulder, and you suppose that this is much quicker than he wants by the little whimpers that escape him as he tries to hold out from the clenching of your walls around him.

You’re so close to his ear that you’re sure you can whisper to him anything as he shudders and falls into his high. “How does it feel to cum inside your older sister?” Is what you want to say if only to see the look on his face and to feel his jerking hips skip, but you needed him for just a bit longer. So, you bite your tongue and hold onto your thoughts as you feel his warmth filling you.

If having kids for the Zen’in is your destiny then you’d much prefer sneaking a Fushiguro in; and if not, you at least hope the wet spot the two of you make together will last until morning as it leaks out from under you, spreading to the sheets between your legs.

“Sorry, that was fast,” he puffs.

“No, no, it was more than enough,” you answer thankfully. You couldn’t wait to tell Naoya that your brother got to you before he had the chance.

He pulls you down and places a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I mean, if I could…I’d take you away from them,” he whispers along the crest of your forehead. “Let you stay with me.”

Your pitifully jealous heart skips a beat. You guess there is some ripe flesh still remaining between the rot and your core. It makes you want to cry genuine tears for the first time in a long time, so long that you can’t remember the last time. Probably because he looks so much like the one person you wanted to hear those words from. Despite being aware of these feelings, you still wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the exact time the tears began to fall. It only makes it worse when he holds onto you like he actually loves you. Something you still couldn't believe is possible.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi smut #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro x reader #tw:darkcontent #tw:incest #Tw:dubcon

[sea-owl]

it's featheruary and we have no wing aus. I must fix this, especially since we have the Featheringtons!

As a huge fuck you to his dad (and may have been unknowingly partially inspired by his best friend's huge flock) Simon took his falcon wings and went around traveling to create his own flock. Making a very well known point that they were all his wards and he was not going to mate any of the women of his flock. Some joined to escape their birth flocks, others to help ease financial burdens, others did it because why not? While this practice was unusual in today's age it was not unheard of especially when it was used during times of war or plague.

When Simon told his aunt Agatha of his plan to create his own flock of wards she immediately sent for his first new one in the form of young Gareth St. Clair and his too big for his body canary wings.

"If you are creating a flock then take your cousin." Lady Danbury ordered. "Lord knows he'll be better off with a presumed rake than with that man he calls father."

The next person to join was Kate Sharma with her peacock wings. With the recent passing of her father and the financial strain on her family Kate began looking for ways to help. She knew there was enough money left for Mary to comfortably take care of one daughter and provide her a dowery but not two. Hearing rumors of a duke's heir looking to create his own flock Kate went looking for Simon. Simon agreed to take Kate on as one of his wards, and unknown to Kate he adds to money she sends her birth flock.

Next to join was Sophie Beckett and her silvery wings. Gareth had found her when Simon went to do business with Earl Gunningworth at Gunningworth's country estate. Gareth had came running up to Simon whispering about a young lonely lady. When Simon inquired further with Earl Gunningworth he was only told that Sophie was the earl's ward. Simon immediately knew the earl was just hiding Sophie away and suspected a former mistress was involved. So Simon took a gamble and offered to take Sophie in as his own ward. Just as Simon suspected Earl Gunningworth was happy to get rid of his illegitimate daughter.

The fourth member to join his growing flock was raven winged Penelope. Featherington. Simon wasn't too proud of how she ended up joining but he knew it was leagues better than where she could have ended up. What kind of father bets his daughter over a game of cards? Simon took a quick trip to the club the night before he and his flock were to leave London again. He needed a drink to steel his nerves as he always did when in London. Simon hated being in the same city as his father. There he overheard Lord Featherington betting the hand of his third born daughter in an attempt to win back some money he had lost. Well Simon couldn't let that slide, he knows of several women who would have his head if he didn't do something. Simon took the bet and won, but instead of a future wife Simon took Penelope in as his ward.

Penelope was sent to join her new flock the very next day, and then they were off to Gloucestershire as Penelope made a suggestion for their next new member, Phillip Crane who had wings like a barn owl. Penelope informed Simon that she met Phillip while on a trip to visit her cousin in the country. Penelope liked the boy but hated how his father treated him. Simon saw what Penelope meant when all he didn't even get to finish his sentence about wanting to see Phillip before Sir Crane pushed Phillip towards Simon and claiming Simon could take him.

Michael was the next to join in all his golden ealgle winged glory. Simon still isn't sure how that happened. He just kinda showed up one day when the flock was in Scotland, and then never left. But Michael really helped bring Phillip and Penelope out of their shells. So despite Michael being a pain in Simon's ass sometimes he did like having him as a member of the flock.

Now Simon definitely remembers how they got Lucy whose dove wings still had baby feathers on them when they acquired her. Penelope had gone to visit her sister Felicity, who still resides in the Featherington flock, with Michael and Phillip. The trio left together and then had come back with a small child. They claimed Lucy's parents had passed and her uncle was evil. They couldn't just leave her there! After writing to Lady Danbury to confirm that the trio did not kidnap a child from a loving flock Simon found himself with his final ward.

Once satisfied Simon then proceeded to travel the world with his flock giving them the freedoms he has been so desperately craving for years. Once in a while different members of his flock will go off and visit their birth flocks. But they always make sure to send note of their safe arrivals and leavings.

In the beginning of season of 1814 Simon receives a letter from Lady Danbury that his father has died. He must return to London as the new Duke of Hastings.

You also have three eligible young ladies in your flock. Perhaps it is time to make their debut and for you to find a mate.

Simon debates this, it is true that Kate, Sophie, and Penelope are all of marriageable age, and as the leader of their flock he does have a duty to make sure they are married and matched well, as well as Lucy when she is of age.

He brings it up to his right hand Kate, who wrinkles her nose in confusion. "I suppose it would be right to make sure Sophie and Penelope find good husbands."

Simon doesn't mention how Kate doesn't include herself.

"Edwina wrote to me as well. It appears Lady Danbury is sponsoring her this season. I want to make sure she finds a good match as well."

So off to London the flock went, thankfully Lady Danbury always threw the first ball of the season. So at least the flock would be somewhat comfortable.

Or not.

Kate looked ready to punch someone. The plume on her wings clearly ruffled. Penelope looked plain miserable as she tried to hide herself in her wings. Thankfully Sophie just seemed fascinated with the environment around her, her wings relaxed.

Time for some intervention.

"Phillip go dance with Sophie, Michael dance with Kate." Simon ordered.

Phillip and Michael looked confused. Simon gets it. Usually they paired off by age, Simon and Kate, Michael and Sophie, and Phillip and Penelope. But Simon knows Kate needs Michael to make her laugh right now, and Penelope needs Simon's reassurance or she's gonna try to blend into the walls. Phillip's calmer personality will help in keeping Sophie calm.

Before either of them could say anything Simon pushes them off. "Go on, dance with your flock mates."

Simon offers his hand to Penelope who smiles as she takes it. Leading the red head to the dance floor they start the dance. Slowly Simon watched as Penelope looses the tension in her shoulders. Glancing around the room Simon saw Kate laughing and looking more cheerful at whatever Michael was telling her. Phillip and Sophie looked to be having fun too.

At one point dance partners join in a circle with another pair before they temporarily switch off and then repeat to switch back. The pair that joined Simon and Penelope looked to be brother and sister. Simon would put them about a year a part with the brother being older and the same age as Michael. Their blue jay wings immediately give away which flock they belong to.

"Hello sir," the girl greeted. Her voice was light and musical.

"Hello Miss Bridgerton," Simon greeted her.

"I do not believe we have formally been introduced," the girl said.

"No, we have not, but your wings easily give you away," Simon said.

Miss Bridgerton thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Yes I suppose they do. Well since you know my family name it is only right you know my given one as well. I am Daphne."

They twirl and Simon is glancing around for the rest of his flock mates. It was weird, so much blue around them. The only one who wasn't paired with a blue winged partner was Michael who somehow ended up dancing with Edwina.

"Simon Basset," Simon said.

They switched back to their original partners, and Simon raised an eyebrow at the slight blush on Penelope's cheeks.

"Did you have a lovely chat with Mr. Bridgerton?" Simon asked.

Penelope nodded. "Yes, he was quite kind."

The dance ended and Simon led Penelope back to the rest of their flock.

"Basset?"

Simon looked around at the calling of his name. No one here has called him Basset, they've all called him Hastings.

"Basset!"

Through the crowd appeared Anthony Bridgerton.

"Bridgerton!" Simon smiled.

"How are you old friend?" Anthony asked as the two men briefly hugged.

"Learning about how true all your whining was back at Oxford," Simon laughed. "I swear my little wards are giving me gray hair."

"Hey!" five voices shouted behind Simon.

Anthony peaked around Simon's shoulder at the mismatched flock. "When I heard the rumors all those years ago about you creating your own flock I thought surely they had it wrong."

"This isn't even all of them," Simon said. "The two fledglings are at home asleep."

"Trying to copy?" Anthony joked.

Simon played along. "Mine are clearly the superior version." Pointing to each one Simon introduced them. "This is Kate Sharma, Michael Stirling, Sophie Beckett, Phillip Crane, and Penelope Featherington. The fledglings at home are Gareth St Clair and Lucy Abernathy."

Simon turned to his flock. "This Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, some of you already became acquainted with his siblings on the dance floor."

Later on Kate had gone off with her sister saying she will be home tomorrow after spending some time with Edwina and Mary. Simon nodded and after making their farewells to Lady Danbury the flock returns to Hastings House.

"He's trying to fuck me!" Was the only thing the flock heard when Kate came home the next morning.

Several members chocked on their food.

"Kate what are you talking about?" Simon finally asked.

"Your buddy Viscount Bridgerton had the nerve to unfurl and show off his wings in public to me! Right in the middle of an argument too!" Kate exclaimed.

Simon felt his protective nature over his flock creep up, and had to slow his words so he doesn't start stuttering. Something wasn't adding up. Yes it was common that the unfurling of wings and showing the underside of them was part of the mating dance in many parts of the world. Also yes Anthony was one of the biggest rakes he has ever known. But Simon knew, that Anthony knew how to act in public especially with gently bred ladies.

"Kate, tell me what happened exactly," Simon said.

Best to figure this out before the others try to send Penelope out for retcon.

Meanwhile across town Anthony was trying to not strangle his brothers who were laughing at him after accidentally unfurling his wings in a threat display during his argument with Miss Kate Sharma.

#simon decides to heal his inner child au #jk it's a wings and spouses found family au #featheruary #if simon doesn't call for a duel first then anthony better watch out #simon's sisters are hella scarier #op is a fan of cultural differences and the hilarious misunderstandings that happen because of them #someone name this au I don't wanna #bridgerton #bridgerton spouses #simon basset #kate sharma #kate sheffield #michael stirling #sophie beckett #phillip crane #penelope featherington

[lemonhemlock]

do you have any thoughts on Baelon and Alyssa? I’ve been seeing lots of discourse on what they would think about Rhaenyra or how the dance would play out if Baelon was king

an ask from May, lol. sorry it took me this long!

i'm gonna be a bit lemontarty and go against the grain on this one. a popular take i've seen is how alysanne was so brainwashed by targcest that she interpreted alyssa always being glued to baelon's side as marital intention and thus paired them up from a young age. kind of like how straight people have that annoying habit in that they see a boy and a girl playing and, as a result, call them boyfriend and girlfriend and start planning their wedding. i don't think it's an outrageous take, but i also don't think it was necessarily the author's intention here.

not that targcest fucking up family dynamics isn't a worthwhile topic of conversation, but i don't really see it in the way those two specifically were written. it seems to be one of grrm's exceptions he throws in ever so often. i say this because neither baelon, nor alyssa ever expressed regret with their relationship or even any kind of dissatisfaction, nor is even one argument or point of contention between them ever mentioned. they apparently couldn't keep their hands off each other and baelon never recovered mentally after alyssa's death.

that being said, i take issue with how alyssa was written bc she is way too much of a Cool Girl™. now FB came out in 2018 and Gone Girl in 2014, so idek what george was thinking with this, bc alyssa is 100% the girl in the monologue. she is sporty, low maintenance, the only thing she wants to do is fuck her man, fly her dragon & give baelon enough sons to field a football team etc. she's so much of a male fantasy it's hard not to laugh, tbh. you just know she'd eat only pizza and never gain weight.

as for what they would think about rhaenyra, who knows. it's worth mentioning that rhaenyra would have never been in the running for queen if rhaenys, daughter of prince aemon and baelon&alyssa's niece, hadn't been passed over. now, alyssa was long dead when aemon died, but had she been alive, for thing to happen in the same way, then she should have been complicit in the passing over (twice) of rhaenys. so if she would have been comfortable with that, why would she be a rhaenyra supporter? alyssa honestly gives me boy mom vibes. if she didn't die, she would have given baelon a ton of children & possibly more sons who could have, in time, produced other male offspring, complicating things even further.

the dance wouldn't happen during baelon's reign, it would happen after baelon and viserys both died. but it could happen while alyssa was a queen dowager. so, in this scenario, who's to say she wouldn't have already convinced viserys to name aegon as successor? thus avoiding any dance at all. i find it hard to believe she would champion rhaenyra for queen when she herself would have been complicit re: rhaenys.

also, another thing to consider is that viserys' obsession for a son was also born out of the scarcity of targaryen heirs at the time: daemon was a loose canon, rhaenyra was a girl and rhaenys had married outside of the family so her children were technically velaryons. if alyssa gave baelon more children, it's very possible that viserys would not have pressured aemma for more offspring so much as he knew that, if push came to shove, he could call another great council and they had more options to consider as heir.

ANOTHER thing i would like to add to complicate this timeline even more is that alyssa could have provided sisters for viserys and daemon to marry, thus negating the need for viserys to even marry aemma in the first place (and rhaenyra's existence) and daemon's fixation on his underage niece. or, you know, viserys can still marry aemma (say it's true love or whatever) and, after she dies, he can marry a younger sister of his instead of alicent.

and with that i've provided plenty of AUs out there for you potential writers 🎈

#alyssa targaryen #baelon targaryen #ask #anon

[masterqwertster]

💭 + what does Ashton think of Essek at time of meeting and then later on in the Consecution Quest AU.

Their first meeting ever is probably a result of Allura throwing Caleb at Ashton after the Moon Bullshit is over (because she really doesn't want to see the political/religious mess of Ashton going to the Kryn Dynasty in search of answers), and Caleb wanting an even better expert to help him try to figure the half-beacon brain out.

Ashton mostly qualifies Essek as a Dumb Magic Nerd because the guy just wants to roll around in their very dangerous brain and poke it and see what happens. Caleb isn't much better, but he also has professor duties and Cerberus Dis-Assembly work to pull him away. Unlike Essek, who has nothing better to do/that he wants to do more as long as the Dynasty doesn't know he's there.

But they also acknowledge that Essek is powerful, that he can be effectively manipulative when it suits him, that he's dangerous. However, Ashton knows how to work with dangerous people, so it's by no means a deal breaker.

In the end, it's a very professional relationship about figuring out what the fuck is up with Ashton's brain.

The second first meeting after Ashton's been reborn is... weird.

Ashton recognizes Essek from the dreams of their past life the half-beacon brain has been giving them, but doesn't truly understand the relationship they had back then because they're a kid. Regardless, Ashton is excited by meeting someone with answers.

Essek ends up taking partial custody of Ashton after an attempt to kidnap the baby titan (whether the kidnappers where cognizant of the titan status or just looking to bag a rare race of interest to several governments is undecided) gets dangerous when Ashton uses a good measure of his titan and/or dunamis powers to put an end to it. The incident will draw the wrong kind of attention and it will be safest for Ashton and his new blood family if he's not there to target.

Hell, the kidnapping incident is probably why Essek found Ashton in the first place.

The only reason Ashton's family agrees to let Essek whisk the kid away (especially after that) is that:

A) Essek a very powerful wizard. They couldn't stop him if they wanted to.

B) While they have been doing their best to deal with and accommodate Ashton's titan and dunamis weirdness, they can also admit a wizard who knows what's up could potentially do better by Ashton. At least in helping the kid deal with that shit anyways.

C) Ashton recognizes Essek as an ally from his past-life dreams. So Essek has a better recommendation than any old random powerful wizard to walk in off the street.

Ashton cottons on pretty quick into their travels that Essek is not great with kids. So they abuse the shit out of that to get what they want during their travels. But it's very much an "Only I can be mean to/trick my friend" sort of thing, where anyone else tries anything with Essek that the wizard has trouble handling, they'll barge right in to make that person back off (or at least accidentally provide an opening to give Essek a better shot at handling it).

He also has a lot of respect for the frankly mind-blowing and amazing things Essek can do with magic. Ashton's never seen anyone do things even half as powerful as what Essek will do, and the drow makes it look easy.

I guess it's sort of a summer road trip with an awkward, cool uncle vibe.

#MQ&A #MQ AU machine #consecution quest au

[findingtarshish]

💛📿🕷️🖤 Let's get to know Lady Thule a bit more!

💛 Which of your non-romanced companions did your Tav stay closest to after the end of the game? Which companions drifted apart?

Helona stayed close with all the origin characters. Gale is, of course, her beloved husband. Wyll and Karlach are her dear friends that she doesn't see often enough, but through Yurgir, she can get letters to and from them. Astarion was pretty heavily influenced by her (he forsook his roguish ways and swore a paladin's oath at her guidance) so they remain closely in touch, with Astarion regaling her with stories of his heroics, on occasion asking for advice, and frequently teasing her for her quiet life with Gale of all people. She doesn't get many chances to talk to Lae'zel, but they miss each other a great deal. Shadowheart is, of course, very close, and they always spend time together when she's in Waterdeep. Shadowheart also joined her for the Run the year after the Absolute crisis. Even though Shadowheart isn't drow, with Sharrans hunting her, life on the surface is no less dangerous, and between them they had plenty of trouble to get up to. Hel also wanted someone with her, since she and Gale were expecting their first child soon, and she knew she couldn't fight at full capacity for a few more months.

However, she has remained closest with Minthara. They worked together to establish connections for her resistance movement in Waterdeep, and Helona has provided her additional support using the, uh, staggering wealth she collected during her adventures. They make an odd pair, a noble of Qu'ellarz'orl providing her sword and a conwoman of the Braeryn providing her coin. She's also entrusted Minthara with the mission of finding her family and bringing them to the surface.

📿 Are there any specific items that your Tav kept as heirlooms, or were otherwise significant to them for sentimental reasons? Did they give any of them as gifts to their companions?

Yes! The Sussar Greatsword hangs over the mantle in Gale's tower, much to his protestation- he doesn't like the sword because of its antimagic properties, but Hel can't bring herself to give it up. She also gave Phalar Aluve to Minthara, a guiding song to light her path in the Underdark.

🖤 Does your Tav have any regrets about the things they did?

Unfortunately, yes. Helona found herself blinded by her anger with Mystic Carrion, and upon discovering the location of his heart, she destroyed Thrumbo rather than coax the heart out of him. When she searched Carrion's upper floors, she found the notes from him and realized what she'd done. Murdering a fellow survivor of abuse and imprisonment weighs heavily on her conscience, zombie or no.

🕷 How many gods did your Tav mouth off to on their adventures? Who was their most behated god?

Six- Mystra (she constantly badmouthed her during the events of the game, then directly insulted her after the game ended), Vlaakith, Milil, Shar, Bane, and Myrkul. Withers was the only god she was nice to, at least when he wasn't calling her bitchless. Pointedly, with Mystra, she encouraged Gale to give the crown to her and get the orb removed, just so they could tell her to fuck off when she tried to make Gale her chosen.

#thank uuuuu #Helona Thune #Helona Dekarios #ask game

[destinyandcoins]

you know i really do admire and i am jealous of how easy it was a century ago to just drop off the face of the earth and assume a new identity; move three counties away and start calling yourself by a different name and all of a sudden you are a brand new person and quite literally no one would ever know, then or now. on the other hand, being someone who is 92 years removed from the situation and trying to put together the puzzle is endlessly frustrating and the mystery will haunt me for the rest of my days

#personal #misc #my grandpa's father vanished when he was like 11 and idk if he left like abandoned the family #or left and something happened so he couldn't come back. or left and just straight up died #it was also like six months before the great depression hit. or he could have left his family because he just wasn't up for having a family #but the man was also a fur trapper so he could legitimately just have had an accident and died #like could have died while traveling and no one knew who he was to record his name or could have died in the woods of a bear attack #OR he could have just fucked off because he couldn't provide for his family during the depression #OR have been trying to find a way to support them #literally no one knows and if anyone DID know they didn't cough up any more details and are now dead themselves #and for the aforementioned reasons no research has ever turned up any answers and we don't even know WHY there are no answers #file this under #things that make me wish i had a time machine #is this how the FBI feels about db cooper #but also if given the chance i WOULD drop off the face of the earth and start a new identity this one is no good

[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

#harry potter fanfiction #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley angst #george x y/n #george x reader #george x reader angst #george weasley one shot #the seven potters #deathly hallows #deadly hallows part 1 #hp fic #hp dh

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

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general taglist (italics for people i could not tag):  @aomineavenue @intheawks​ @deltahemm​ @bap-kingdom @shegoeshexing @brinnnx @crescentsteel​ @ dokidokisama @smellssharpies​ @dearhajime​ @plutoxxxworld​ @kritiiiii​ @ muppetz @ iscreamtea @rizzyrisso​ @makeitrainonsomehoes​ @maraudusk​ @kybabi​ @tsumue​ @thischickwritessometimes​ @angrylittleriri​

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #anime #manga #fluff #humor #hq atsumu #fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #inarizaki #hq #miya osamu

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨

hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .

❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship

❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol

❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.

❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.

The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.

You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.

You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.

However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.

"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"

You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.

"Answer me, Y/N!"

"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."

"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"

"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"

Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."

"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"

"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.

You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.

"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.

In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.

You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.

"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."

You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.

Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.

Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?

Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.

Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.

And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.

If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.

Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.

Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.

As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.

Blood.

His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.

Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.

Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.

He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.

Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.

There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.

Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.

Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.

As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.

Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.

It was his name.

He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.

"Y/N," he choked out shakily.

His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.

"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."

You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."

#mello x reader #mello x y/n #mihael keehl #death note fanfiction #death note #death note mello #death note near #death note angst #angst prompts #angst dialogue prompts #angst #sh tw #tw s/h #yandere mello #mello yandere #death note yandere #death note oneshot #death note imagines #rattyoakenbitch

[sincerelyasomebody]

Mama || Leticia "Letty" Cruz

(GIF: @angels-reyes)

A/N: This was created because I've seen some speculation that Letty may not make it to the end of Season 3 (😭🥺). My mind needed something fluffy to combat this and so this piece came about. Apologises for grammatical errors and please let me know if the Spanish translation needs correcting.

Characters/Pairing(s): Letty x Reader (mother-daughter relationship) ▪︎ Coco x Reader (mention) ☆ Mayans MC (brief mention) ▪︎ OCs (receptionist, mother and son duo) 

Summary: Just a mother protecting her daughter. 

Warnings: brief mention of altercation (male and female), description of injuries, fluff, language, nicknames, painkillers (reference to injury) 

Word Count: 1755

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

(Y/N) couldn't believe how busy the roads leading to the local high school were. It was a Wednesday, a little after ten and the streets were just packed with cars. She thought it was ridiculous considering people were usually at their jobs and children were in their age appropriate schools. There was no reason for people to be out and about. 

"The light's been green for five seconds!" she yelled and honked her horn, "move!" The driver in front gave her the finger before taking off, "you're so fucking lucky I've got somewhere to be, asshole!" she called out as she drove in the opposite direction. 

When her phone rang during her break, the last person (Y/N) expected to hear from was the receptionist for Santo Padre High School. According to the woman, Leticia (Letty as she was mostly referred to) had been in an altercation with another student and her parents or caregivers were requested to come and meet with the principal. Rachel, the receptionist, mentioned trying to reach her father but going straight to voicemail. With (Y/N) being listed as an emergency contact she was called. 

(Y/N) immediately asked about Letty, but was told that specific details couldn't be discussed over the phone. She found that odd, but accepted it (for the time being) and informed Rachel that she would be there as quickly as she could. After hanging up, she grabbed her belongings and told her manager she had a family emergency to attend to. She was cleared and (Y/N) informed him that she would be taking a week off as well and would keep them updated on her situation. 

From the moment she received the call to the time she pulled up in front of the high school, her thoughts revolved around Letty. Being with Coco for several years allowed (Y/N) to gain some insight to the type of life he had been subjected to. Through a lot of tears, constant reassurance and love (Y/N) was able to break through his tough exterior and get him to believe she was in it for the long haul. When (Y/N) was told by him about his daughter being in a similar environment to what he was in growing up, she demanded him to bring her home.

The second she laid eyes on Letty she saw Coco's features and personality shine through. (Y/N) didn't expect the teenager to respect or trust her right off the bat, but she made sure to let her know that she was here if she needed someone to talk to and gave her space. With every door slam, harsh comment and glare sent her way, (Y/N) continued being herself and showed Letty she wasn't a threat. It was challenging, especially when Coco left on runs, but she pushed through. Eventually the teenager began to accept her father's girlfriend without second guessing her. 

(Y/N) stepped into the main office and found a woman standing beside a teenage boy, who held some paper towels to his nose and had a couple of scratches on his face. She moved closer and realised the pair were towering over Letty who sat in the corner and was looking down at her lap. Clenching her jaw, she strode over to the trio. 

"Get the fuck away from my daughter!" she glared at the duo and turned around to Letty, who was now standing, "mi niña, are you okay?" she kissed her forehead and cupped her cheeks, "Leticia?" 

The teenager nodded, "uh… y-yeah, I'm fine," she went to move (Y/N)'s hands but winced, "completely fine." 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened at the state of Letty's hands. They were most likely bruised and what shocked her even more was that there was no ice-pack beside her seat. The boy clearly had been given assistance, but her baby girl hadn't and that pissed her off.

"Rachel!" she called out and a woman appeared around the corner, "you're the one who called me right?" 

"Yes." 

"And, you said you couldn't go over specific details of what happened over the phone?" 

"That's correct." 

(Y/N) nodded and gestured towards Letty's hands, "well I'm here now and would like an explanation on why my daughter hasn't been treated and that young man has?" When the mother tried to give a reason, she raised a hand in her face, "this doesn't concern you, this conversation is between Rachel and I." 

Rachel gulped and could feel the anger radiating off of (Y/N), "well… uh, he was bleeding and –"

"Were there other staff members present?" she asked and when she was given a nod, she continued, "why couldn't they have provided medical assistance to my daughter?" 

"She… didn't tell us she was hurt, ma'am, she said she was fine so –"

"Bitch do her hands look fine to you?" 

The mother scoffed, "at least we know where your daughter gets her attitude from." 

(Y/N) turned to her, "shut up, nobody asked for your ass to speak," she gestured towards her son, "the reason your son's looking like a fucked up tomato is completely justified I can vouch for that." 

"Are you kidding me?" She shrieked and pointed to his face, "he's most likely got a broken nose and there's scratches on his face!"

"Exactly, be glad my daughter didn't have a screwdriver on her." (Y/N) replied and almost laughed at the disbelief on the woman's face, "your son deserved every scratch, bruise and possible broken bone."

"Excuse me!?" 

(Y/N) ignored her and turned back around to face Rachel, "Letty and I will be leaving now."

"Mrs Fraser hasn't seen –" 

"My main concern right now is my daughter's well-being," she told her, "and you've got my details on file so I'm sure Mrs Fraser can contact me at a later date." 

Rachel spoke again, "please if you'd just –"

"No." 

(Y/N) picked up Letty's bag and walked over to the desk, with Letty trailing behind her. She quickly signed out on the tablet and the pair walked out of the building. Reaching her car, (Y/N) unlocked it and helped Letty into the passenger seat. Closing her door, she rushed to the driver's side and got in. 

She helped Letty buckle up, before buckling herself in, "everything okay, sweets?" 

"Yeah… uh, thanks." was the response she received, before she started up the car and pulled out of the school parking lot while explaining where they were off to next. 

-- ♡ -- ◇ -- 

"He's always talking shit," Letty explained to (Y/N) about the guy in the office, "it was about time someone shut him up." 

"And you were the person to do so?" 

She shrugged her shoulders, "he ran his mouth and then touched me, so I beat his ass." 

"Two for one special?" 

"Pretty much." 

(Y/N) chuckled, "when your hands heal up, we'll ask one of the guys to teach you a few moves in the ring, thankfully your hands are just bruised and not broken." 

"They still hurt like a bitch." 

"You've got another two hours before you can drink some more painkillers." 

"What would've happened if Coco answered the phone?" Letty questioned.

(Y/N) shook her head, "honey, I don't even think I wanna know what would've happened," she noticed the teen wince, "are you okay?" 

"Yes." 

"Are you sure?"

She huffed, "I'm fine, okay? I was fine when you picked me up. I was fine when we went to the doctor's office. I was fine at the grocery store and I was fine the last time you asked me." 

(Y/N) nodded and pulled into their driveway, putting the car in park, "I'm not gonna apologise about asking how you're feeling. I'm just – I just want to make sure you're okay. But, now I'll stop because I can see I'm annoying you." 

"Yeah, you are." 

She chuckled, "okay, I'll stop, but you'll tell –" 

Letty sighed, "yes, I'll tell you. You really take this parenting thing seriously. I mean… you've been referring to me as your daughter all day and I–I'm not. But you defended me –" 

"And I always will." 

" – against Kyle, his mum and even the receptionist. I–I've never had that before. And, even at the doctor's office you made sure I was seen by a female because you knew it'd make me more comfortable." 

"Letty?" 

"You treat me like I'm yours and you called me your daughter and I… I don't know, I just," she took a deep breath, shook her head and looked out of the window.

(Y/N) waited for her to continue, but she didn't. Thinking back on today's events, she realised she had referred to Letty as her own. She had been doing it in her mind for so long and didn't realise she had said it out in the open. Letty had heard her reference and it seemed to make her uncomfortable and that was something she vowed she wouldn't do. 

"When I started dating your dad he told me about the kids he had. He told me that he wasn't involved in their lives because being away from them was for the best. I asked him what would happen if one day a kid reached out and his response was "if they do, they do. I ain't gonna turn them away", (Y/N) spoke up, "and then you reached out, sweetums. You reached out and your dad took that as a sign. From the moment you entered our lives, it's been a whirlwind of emotions. We're not this picture perfect family, but we're our own version. Despite being almost an adult, Coco still views you as his baby girl. And, honestly, I've been viewing you the same way."

Letty sniffed and looked up, "really?" 

"Absolutely, gorgeous. The moment you stepped through that door you became mine as well," (Y/N) pointed at the front door of their home, before turning to her, "but that doesn't matter if you're not okay with it. I'm not trying to force you to be –" 

"I'm Coco's daughter," she cut in and smiled at (Y/N), "and now I'm yours too." 

(Y/N) beamed with joy and unbuckled her seatbelt, and Letty's, reaching over the middle console to bring the teen into her arms. Letty wrapped her arms around (Y/N), breathing in her (scent). The woman chuckled and kissed her cheek, "I love you, baby girl." 

Letty pulled her closer, "I love you too, mama." 

-♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

Spanish Translations: 

Mi niña - my girl / baby girl

#leticia cruz #letty cruz #johnny cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz #leticia cruz x reader #letty cruz x reader #johnny cruz x reader #johnny coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x reader #x reader #reader insert #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #santo padre #sincerelyasomebody

[icyteaa]

AlbeCale Headcanon

[Vampire x Angel]

Inspired by this post.

Part 1

Part 2

When Cale finally regained his consciousness, what was in front of him was red. The liquid that poured from the stiff bodies. The fluid that comes from the open wound on his family's bodies is red. And he himself, since god knows when, full of red.

Something like needles felt like spatter his right shoulder that later he would find out to be wound from those bastards that made everything, root of his misery, happen. But just like that, that day he found himself couldn't move, freeze in the place while his world crumbled.

His mind became blank as his eyes couldn't focus on what was in front of him. Cale's breath felt heavy and his chest hurt so much. But still, he just stands. Without knowing what to do, he stared at the bodies that were now becoming cold. Maybe if he could join them, it would be easier. Maybe if he wasn't left alone alive, it would be better. Though he didn't know if becoming one of those monsters could be called alive.

Cale didn't know how long he just stood, but he finally recollected his mind when he felt someone's presence near him. He couldn't see anything, but he felt like this was the last farewell he could do with his family. He felt like that presence would bring his family's souls to the afterlife and completely left him alone in this world.

With that in mind, he shut his eyes and hoped that his family would have a better life after this. He didn't believe in gods, but he still wants at least his family to get a better place than this fucking world. While he was at it, Cale promised them to live a long life while carrying the pain everyone receives and will take revenge for them.

When the presence finally disappeared, Cale dragged his body to the body of his father. His hands trembling as he shut his eyes off. He made their last place exactly where they died. With crude tools and mostly just his hands digging on the ground, he didn't know how long he did it until everyone finally got buried. He just feels empty. His hands hurt badly and he felt breathless. Yet his body was not rotting and he didn't die. Everyone left him alone with thousands of memories that now becoming needles that made his heart hurt.

When the presence finally let himself be seen, he found that blonde creature with a face like a beautiful statue. He presumably thought before about this presence was right because there is no human who could have the power to not be seen while having a pair of wings and a bright smile. His offer sounds ridiculous to Cale, but he accepted it anyway. He thought that collecting information about those vampires would be easier if he followed him. And deep in his heart, maybe he just wanted to runaway from this place that made a very big wound in his heart.

After becoming a vampire, he knew something had started to change in his body. Start from the appetite he has and how he digests something. He didn't feel hungry that much even if he hadn't eaten for a very long time. And even just imagining having his favorite food now makes him disgusted. This change, however, didn't happen just like that, but it hurt his whole body. That is why he sleeps almost every day. When energy in his body is forced to be absorbed because of the pain, he will let himself sleep to get healed.

This pain, however, stopped after he drank the blood that Alberu provided. It's not something Cale really wants, of course, because it immediately reminds him about that day and the fact that he is a part of those monsters now. But he too remembered that he had made a promise to have a long life to get revenge. That is why he drank it.

He could feel his body become stronger every time he drinks blood, but he never tries to drink blood from live humans by attacking them even if Alberu explained that it would make him feel two times better and stronger, because it makes him no different than other vampires.

Cale didn't need to sleep that much after drinking the blood, so he found himself often just blanking out before that man—that Angel, tried to have a conversation with him. But Cale had a little secret. When Alberu wasn't home, he would often come to Alberu's bedroom to see if he could collect any information about those vampires from there. And there are a lot of files cases where vampires attack humans. He and his family are not the only ones. He tries to organize his thoughts based on those files. But in the end, Cale felt guilty because he did it without Alberu's permission. After everything the Angel did to him, Cale betrayed that trust.

Cale confessed his fault to Alberu one day when they gathered on a couch in Cale's bedroom just like any other time before. He had ready to be kicked out of that house, but Alberu laughed instead. "You know what? If you just ask me, I will gladly tell you about them. Though it's not nice to break others' bedroom when they aren't there, I'm not any better since I always come here, right?" Cale felt sincere from those eyes when Alberu continued, "And I feel happy because this is the first time you told me your story without me asking first."

Cale felt embarrassed but warm at the same time, because he realized that even if he was left alone now there was already someone here, beside him. He still didn't know why the man brought him to his house, but Cale felt grateful. Though he was still too embarrassed to say it out loud, he took a note in his head to not forget. Besides the revenge he wants to take, he still has a life that was given to him. That life where he could have a simple conversation every now and then with his immortal friend.

After that, Alberu gets more free around Cale. He will bother him when he sleeps and drags him out of the house from time to time. Even though what they do outside is always to complete Alberu's task to guide the soul and Cale just observes him from behind. Cale finally left the house where he always felt more secure and far from those monsters reach.

Alberu told him that if he wants to get revenge, he should get stronger. And that can happen if he is outside the house and at least moving around and adjusting his vampire blood to the body. In addition, maybe he could find traces from those vampires who attacked his house.

But sometimes blood scents from the bodies that the souls Alberu guide make him feel dizzy and uncontrollable as his instinct tells him to drink it. One day the scent was really strong and made him almost do what the vampire does. Fortunately, Alberu was still able to stop him by letting his hand get bitten by Cale instead. "It's just... I know you will regret it later. That's why I stopped you." Alberu said when Cale finally got his consciousness again. Alberu was right. Cale will feel that he is not any better than the ones who attack him and his family if that really happens, so he feels grateful.

That time when they gathered in Cale's bedroom and had conversation just as always, Alberu brought the fact that they often call each other with 'hey' or just name. "I'm way older than you, so call me Hyung from now on." Cale didn't since when, but they throw a simple joke to each other on a daily basis now. So when he heard that, Cale smirked, "With your age now, shouldn't I call you grand—" his mouth immediately got covered with Alberu's hand. The man standing in front of him intimidatedly as he gives Cale a smile that is far away from Angel's smile. "It's hyung." Alberu repeated firmly.

Cale never saw Alberu that sensitive and ended up calling him the way Alberu wanted. Though in his head, he took a note about this weakness that maybe will give him advantage in the future. Annoy Alberu with this fact when he bothers Cale too much, for example.

Alberu explained that vampires just need to drink blood from time to time to live a very long life. And as he felt he really didn't have appetite when he thought about human food now, he never tried to eat as the way he did when he was human now. But one day, Alberu comes to his bedroom with a jar full of cookies—or it's what it looks like.

Still with the same graceful look and smile that glued on his lips, he told Cale to eat those cookies in the jar. Cale raised his eyebrows with confusion but still proceeded to do it since he knew Alberu was not someone who would make any petty prank or have any ill-intention towards him. And surprisingly enough, he could feel the sweetness for the first time in a long time.

"I will not tell you where I obtained this or how, but I will give you that for time to time." That is the only explanation Alberu gave to Cale about the cookies and every time Cale wants to dig for more information, Alberu always changes the topic rapidly. Cale ended up giving up and just let him be for now. He trusts Alberu enough to know he will not make him eat something that will hurt him. And sure, he really misses the taste of food he always eats as a human. Not just blood that always reminds him of the incident.

When he is alone and Alberu gone to do his task, Cale sometimes thinks about how much he has received from Alberu, but he himself is never very useful for that angel. One day he remembered their conversation about food that angels ate. Alberu said that Angel didn't need to eat. They don't feel hungry, but still eat human food just fine. Though Cale himself never sees Alberu eat something, he just drinks wine for very rare occasions; such as during his very tight schedule and makes him a bit worn out.

Cale remembers too that he can cook very well and that wine will be really tasty with steak as a course. Just like that, it's the first time Cale left the house alone and with his own initiative to hunt an animal in the forest.

To tell the truth, the house they live in was in between two forests. These forests alone are not places humans will enter easily because the trees are very thick and make it very dark there. That is why, too, their house was never discovered by humans and even if someone saw it, they would keep themselves far away from there because from the outside that house looked like an abandoned house and radiated a very scary aura. Though on the inside, everything is very clean.

With vampire blood flowing in his vein, Cale could feel he got stronger and faster than he ever before and it was so much easier to hunt a deer from the forest. Cale quickly returned home because he didn't know when Alberu would come back. And as he thought about it, he could see Alberu in front of their house with a frown in his face and an expression that seemed foreign to Cale.

"Just where did you go?" Cale feel... worries in Alberu's voice. But can an Angel really feel that way? Cale didn't know, but he quickly responded because Alberu seemed very eager to know what his reason was. "Uh... I just go hunting in the forest?" Alberu looked confused but finally just sighed. He pat Cale's head before said, "I don't know what you want with that deer, but at least leave me a note if you want to go outside without me."

Cale didn't know why, but he felt that pat was a bit different than Alberu always does. But they quickly come inside the house with Cale busy making food for Alberu and Alberu himself just observe Cale from the dining table with mouth shut because Cale tells him to wait and he will tell his reason after that.

After Cale placed a steak and poured Alberu's favorite wine into the glass, Cale sat opposite Alberu's chair and avoided Alberu's intense stare that eagerly asked for his reason. Cale scratches his neck awkwardly before explaining, "It just.... I never properly say thank you to you for everything you had done for me, hyung. So I at least want to make something for you."

Alberu didn't immediately answer his explanation and it makes Cale more awkward and embarrassed at the same time. He still avoided Alberu's face, so he didn't know what kind of expression Alberu made when he said that, but then Cale heard the sound of fork and plate colliding. Cale peeked and saw Alberu smirking after having one slice of steak in his mouth, "It tastes better than I thought it would be."

Cale felt like Alberu was making fun of him, but he let it just happen after giving the laughing man dead stares. After that day, Cale will sometimes make food for Alberu, especially when he is worn out because of his task to guide the death soul to the underworld loaded. Though he can't ever taste the food himself and felt a bit nauseous, seeing his hyung-nim enjoying his food makes Cale feel enough. Or else, he will eat his cookies from Alberu so they can eat together.

<< end >>

#trash of the count's family #tcf #lout of count’s family #cale henituse #alberu crossman #albecale #caleberu #tcf headcanon #albecale headcanon #vampire au

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Two - Gutless

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: Death (murder), brief descriptions of gore, Isla and Jax doing something very illegal

MASTERLIST

The morning sun was beating down upon the pair a little bit harsher now, inducing a sheen of sweat to coat over Jax's forehead.

But the perspiration could've formed as a result of coming to the realization that he'd just blown the brains out of an ATF agent, left his body to decompose on Tara's bathroom floor, and spilled his guts--not even twenty-four hours later--to Isla.

Jax knew that he could trust her with anything--he always had been able to trust her with anything. But there was something telling him that she didn't exactly feel too wonderful about his revelation.

Her arm lifted to run across her forehead, ridding the skin of a few salty droplets.

"What do you mean--"

"I mean I put a bullet through his fuckin' skull and blew his brains out, Isla! That's what I mean."

He ran a thumb over his lips, realizing that he should've kept his tone subdued so close to the main doors of the clubhouse.

"Jesus, Jax." She breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose as he started to pace quietly. "I--I can't believe you're telling me this."

Well, she could. Really, there wasn't anything she could've put past Jax anymore. And when it came to Tara...The man was an idiot. Always had been.

"Why was Kohn even at her place?"

Jax was fidgety. Uneasy. She couldn't blame him for that, could she? Because he'd just fucking killed a man--but still.

He wasn't even trying to hide it.

"Or did you lure him there or something--"

"Shut up." He growled, grabbing her bicep with his left hand as he pulled her to the side of the building. "Just listen to me."

"I'm listening, Jax, but you don't seem to be telling me a lot."

Realizing that he wasn't offering very much explanation, he nodded. Jax let go of her and beckoned her closer, pleading eyes melting her fucking heart.

"Isla, please." He wrapped his arms around her, minding the bloodied shirt.

"What do you want me to do?"

Ringed fingers splayed over her cheek, pushing stray blonde hairs out of her face. He sighed hard. Exasperated.

"Help me get rid of him--"

"Jackson--"

"I'm not asking you to lug his dead body to the creek and throw him in. I'm just asking you to offer a helping hand and be a lookout or something."

Isla searched his features for a morsel of something that'd indicate Jax was messing with her. But he was dead serious--his face set to neutral, eyes glazed over.

"But--I--what about Cameron?"

"Tara and Chibs have it covered." He murmured, heeding the apprehension sail over her.

She was as strong and willing as she possibly could've been. Isla was consistently the person that Jax and Opie would turn to for advice when it came to their girls, or when they needed to be pointed in the right direction.

But he'd never asked her to do such a thing before.

Her loyalty outweighed her nervousness, however. He knew she'd never say no to helping him with such a matter--but it was still asking too much.

Chibs would've been furious that Jax felt it necessary to beg Isla for assistance during such a time, too. Hell, Gemma would've admonished him for it.

"Where is he?" She mumbled, hearing the clubhouse door open and an irritated grunt sounding from the front of the lot.

Jax held her close to his chest, a hand tracing over the skin of her shoulder that'd been exposed as the shirt fell to the middle of her arm.

"Tara's place." His whisper was monotonous, bordering on lifeless.

"Okay--when do you need to do this?"

He eyed Tig storming from the building and toward his motorcycle, completely unaware of the two conspiring.

"Tonight." His voice came low and gravely. "I'll ride to her place now, and you go home, get yourself cleaned up, do whatever you've gotta do today, and we'll head there--"

"I'm not cleaning myself up. I'm already covered in blood--I don't think I need to destroy another shirt."

"Okay." Jax's lips rubbed together, almost turning upward into a smile. "But don't follow me out, alright? Go tell Gemma that you don't know where I went, and then you take it from there."

"And if Tara asks..."

A gentle kiss against her forehead almost forced tears to collate in her eyes.

"She won't ask--she knows I've gotta do this."

Isla silenced herself, though she nodded and watched as Tig--pissed as hell--rode out of the lot and onto the street.

She guessed that he was still piqued after she and Chibs yelled at him.

And she was still pissed at Jax, but for a different reason now.

This time, she wanted to slap the shit out of the blonde idiot standing before her, requesting help with disposing of a literal dead body.

Isla couldn't quite believe that Jax had turned to her and not somebody like Opie--somebody who would be able to help a little more physically--but she could only assume that it was more of a trust thing.

He had a lot of faith in her and she lauded that. But it also saw her get thrust into some questionable situations.

"You look like you're gonna puke." Juice stifled a laugh as Isla padded in, the bottom of her shirt wrenched between bloodied fingers. "Are you good?"

"Yeah." Instantly, she responded. "I'm fine. I just need to get my purse."

Clay was nowhere to be seen--possibly in the back room with Chibs and Tara--but Gemma's eyes focused on the blonde's form as she strolled across the wood.

"You don't look fine. Come sit for a little while."

"I'm gonna head home--"

"Where'd Jax go?" Gemma cut in, lifting an eyebrow conspicuously.

Tell Gemma that you don't know where I went.

"I don't know." She frowned, sitting on the barstool opposite the woman. "We shared a cigarette, talked about Abel, and then he told me he had to go--where, I don't know."

Did she feel bad about roping his child into their little lie? Yeah, a bit. But it was foolproof. Gemma never would've suspected anything to do with Abel because, really, Jax brought him up to everyone whenever he got the chance to.

"Ah. He's probably headed over to see him. I'll go--"

"I wouldn't." Isla pushed. "He's trying to get some alone time with him. He said that he hasn't really been able to spend one-on-one time with Abel all too much."

Which wasn't a lie. Jax needed to spend those rare solitary moments with his baby because his mother couldn't seem to leave St. Thomas for more than three hours at a time.

Gemma just hummed, turning away.

She knew how he felt. But she was Abel's grandma--she just wanted to know that he was safe and being looked after.

"I'm sorry, that was mean...I just think he's a little confused right now, and could use five minutes with his son."

"No, you're right." She nodded, unable to heed the trepidation flitting over Isla because she felt bad about coming down on Gemma in such a way.

That woman was a Godsend to Jax, his children, and even Isla's family. She didn't deserve to be randomly admonished for wanting to visit her baby's baby. Not after everything she'd done for them.

Well, besides trying to murder the mother of Jax's first born. That was a little fucked up--even by SAMCRO's standards.

But Isla adored her. For everything she had done for her during the time she'd resided in Charming, Gemma was regarded extremely fucking highly in her book.

"Go home, baby. Get some sleep, too--you need to rest."

Isla waved her off. "I'm not tired, just feelin' a little gross."

"I'd bet." Gemma pushed her lips together, smiling as much as she could've. "You go yourself pretty again, and swing by later for dinner."

"Yes ma'am." She mock saluted, reaching for her purse.

Goodbyes between Isla, Gemma, and Juice were uttered for a few moments before the blonde made her way to the door.

Her eyebrows raised inquisitively, urging her to turn back to the duo.

"Gem?"

"Mhm?"

"Was Tig alright?" Sincerely, she asked. Feeling a little guilty about snapping earlier.

Gemma didn't say anything but her head bobbed in confirmation, providing Isla with the answer she needed.

The Irish in her shone through during instances like those. She was brash in her actions, words, and the fact she'd always speak before she thought--but the solemnity with which she would ponder, apologize after making a mistake, was just so plainly Irish.

Isla was kind. Caring. Nurturing. She was everything that SAMCRO was not--but, at the same time, everything that Chibs was. Reliable. Loyal. Committed. A true ride or fucking die.

Everybody trusted her, and nobody second-guessed confiding in her.

And, once again, that had its reparations alongside a multitude of perks.

"Holy mother of Jesus." She cursed, the unmistakable Belfast twang flickering through her brusque tone.

Jax haphazardly pulled the bed-sheet over Kohn's lifeless frame, turning to face his little friend who was, to put it lightly, fucking stunned.

"You sound super Irish when you're mad."

"I'm glad you could recognize that I'm mad at you, Jax." Her eyes never once left the outline of that dead body half on Tara's bedroom carpet, half on the tile of her en-suite.

Getting to her knees, disregarding an incredulous amount of blood decorating the walls and carpets, Isla pulled the floral cover off of Josh.

She sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

"He was stalking Tara--"

"So you just blew his fucking brains out?!" Her shriek was guttural. "Jesus Christ, Jax. And you idiots think that Tig is the one with a trigger problem."

"He does have a problem, and you know that! This was different!" He countered, pulling her to her feet. "This was fucking restitution, Isla!"

"No." Calmly, she stated. Her glare piercing. "This was fucking stupid. Possibly the most idiotic thing that you've ever done, Jackson."

His head shook as he sneered, towering over her. Isla felt intimidated. For the first time ever, she felt an unwavering sensation of overawe whilst in the presence of her best friend.

"He was a bad guy. He had to die."

"But he was fucking ATF! Hale is gonna get your ass, and there's nothing Unser will be able to help you with once he gets wind of this--"

Isla's voice cracked around a small sob. She wasn't even aware of the tears welling in her eyes, but they were there the entire time.

It was the thought of Jax making one incredible life altering fuck up--one that he wasn't going to save himself with a bribe, or the simple luck of a good connection to Charming PD--that was maiming her uncomfortably.

Jax's arms wound around her trembling waist, hugging her tightly against his palpitating chest.

The sheer terror visible in her mannerisms was what frightened him. Isla never seemed to scare very easily--or, at least, she didn't show it.

She was fearless, but she was still human. And he had only seen her crack twice. Both times because of the club, too.

"He was stalking Tara." He reinstated, circling his fingers over Isla's svelte spine. "They dated when she was in Chicago, she broke things off but he was a clingy motherfucker and he wouldn't leave her alone."

"She should've gotten a restraining order or something." She mumbled into his chest, sniffing back tears.

"That's the thing. She did. But he broke it by coming back to Charming, pretending to be setting up shop at the PD with Hale, but he followed her around town for a couple weeks instead."

"And nobody questioned why he wasn't getting anything done?"

Jax's head shook. "He was still working for Chicago--or so he said, anyway--so Hale just assumed any intel for whatever the fuck it was he'd been workin' on was going straight back to the big bosses."

She was struggling to follow on.

It was such a convoluted scenario that Isla never thought she'd become entwined with--though, with Jax and Charming being, well, Jax and Charming, she didn't know why she ruled something of the sort out.

"Are you gonna tell Gemma and Clay--"

"No. This is between us, and Tara."

Isla didn't have the energy to bicker with him again. She didn't want to bicker with him again, truthfully.

"Alright, what's the next move, then? 'Cuz this pig can't stay wrapped up in a sheet for too much longer or else he's gonna start to stink this place out."

Jax situated both hands against crimson coated shoulders, lightly pushing her backward so she could look up to meet his gaze.

"I got a plan. But I don't think you're gonna like it."

His eyes went straight to the lighter atop Tara's bedside table, right next to the pineapple scented candle, and she sighed hard.

The man was so sadistic. It wasn't even slightly discreet anymore, really.

Whereas Clay had always been ruthless, remarkably barbaric toward those who had wronged him--or anyone, really--Jax had more of a moral compass. Not much more, but a little. And that was the sort of thing that tied him straight to JT.

But Clarence Morrow had a much more potent impact on Jax's life, thus the man's foibles ended up transpiring to his stepson.

"This is seriously fucked up."

"I know." He didn't even try to argue, pushing Josh into the small grave he'd spent the last ten minutes digging at the pit of a deep, deep ditch.

Isla's body was below freezing, cold and uneasy at the prospect of potentially being caught, or assumed as an accessory to the murder of a federal agent.

"I'm sorry for roping you into this." Jax stated, almost reading her mind. "I just didn't know what else to do."

She ran a hand over his forearm, resting her head comfortably against navy-cotton covered flesh. "I know."

He didn't expect the woman to douse the dead body in gasoline, set it alight, and wait all night for the corpse to torrefy entirely--but she was there now. There was no reason she shouldn't go to the trouble of lighting the first match.

Tara should be the one doing this, Isla thought to herself as the small stick caught alight. She dropped it atop the sheet, taking a few steps backward when the thing immediately shot up into thick flames.

Jax engulfed her warmly with both arms, holding her tightly as if continuing their prior embrace. It felt safe, unusually so. But, to Isla, it felt like he was scouting for that security more than what she was.

"I can't believe you committed murder for a woman that you haven't seen for ten whole years." She laughed against his sweatshirt, eyes watering. "Is there something going on with you two again?"

"No." Huskily, he responded. "There isn't, and there won't be, either. I just swung by her place to make sure she was alright--I knew she was having trouble with that fucker--and he was there. I had to do it, Isla."

"I know."

She didn't. She did not know. She did not want to know, either. She couldn't fucking believe he'd acted out so rashly, how he was so trigger happy.

Jax was morphing into a different man and she couldn't help but pin that on the club.

"Is she alright?"

"I don't think so." His mumble was barely audible, but she caught it.

Isla squeezed his arm reassuringly, knowing that he felt bad about bringing that sort of trouble to Tara.

"She will be." She confirmed. "She's a strong girl, Jax, she'll be okay."

It didn't kill her to speak positively about Tara, she still held a place in her huge Irish heart--but it was an odd sensation to be mentioning her at all.

Ten years had passed by and Isla wasn't even certain that she was still alive. Her concern for the doctor seemed to dissipate over time because Tara didn't want anything more to do with them, so they didn't try with her.

Maybe it was a pang of jealousy that held her back. She was undeniably envious of the fact that she'd gotten out of town, worked her ass off, and experienced bigger and better things.

But, essentially, everything led back to Charming, and Tara Knowles had ended up falling into that same heap of trouble she left behind a decade ago.

Isla pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her jeans, groaning when she saw the time.

"We've got an hour before Gemma wants us for dinner. You think this son of a bitch is gonna turn into dust within the next sixty minutes?"

"No." Jax laughed, leaning to his left and propping his head atop hers. "But he'll be unrecognizable in the next twenty."

"Perfect."

It was barbarous. Vile. Inhuman.

Isla's mother would be spinning in her grave if she knew the chaos she'd managed to find herself meshed with. Diane would kill Chibs, too.

She'd kill him for roping her baby into such malice after leaving Belfast. She'd want to throttle the Scottish son of a bitch for welcoming little Isla Áine Telford to SAMCRO, to Charming, to Jax fucking Teller.

They weren't natives to the small town, nor were they natives to California. Chibs had just moved from charter to charter. Continent to fucking continent. And taking his little angel along for the ride wasn't exactly planned until his late wife took her very last breath one stormy morning.

It was the most upsetting thing he had to do, telling his daughter that the woman she looked up to and adored with every fiber of her being wasn't coming home.

He'd been in the army, he'd seen things no man should've ever seen, but the sight of that six year old--teary-eyed and partially cognizant--was something that cut him so deeply, Jimmy O'Phelan's mark didn't seem to scratch the surface of Chib's inconsolable hurt.

"I think we're good now." A little nervous, Isla noted.

She simply couldn't wait to get out of the bitter chill, into a hot shower, and to the dinner table at the Teller-Morrow residence.

Jax surveyed the scene. He crouched down, heeding the flicker and sick crackle of flames engulfing the barely fleshed body.

"I think so, too." He confirmed, throwing her the keys to his SUV. "Get outta the cold--I'll finish up here. K?"

She nodded, clutching the chain close to her chest.

Isla wasn't sure how badly she was trembling until she sat still in the passenger seat, watching the club's VP commit the unspeakable.

Really, she wasn't shocked to find out that Jax was capable of the sort. Burning a man dead was better than burning one alive, and she was thankful that Josh had been put out of his misery before his body was cauterized into dust...Which was more than what could've been said about Kyle Hobart.

She remembered overhearing the club's plans to sear, or slice, the SAMCRO tattoo from the back of that brute once they'd gotten wind of his inability to black it out.

And she would've felt bad about that man getting viciously harmed, if he didn't fuck Opie over and subsequently land him in Chino to serve five years away from Charming and his family.

It was cruel, she knew that. To blowtorch the MC tattoo from the stretch of his back, was fucking cruel. Isla knew that Tig was adept at causing such blistering agony, but she didn't think he would actually go through with it, least of all with such delight.

Isla feared that man sometimes. Clay's right hand, the man who sought to protect her, fucking terrified her because he was so unpredictable. So fast acting.

"He's done." Jax officially confirmed, sliding into the driver's seat. "You okay?"

She was staring off into space, her eyes glazing over at the realization she had just helped dispose of another human being.

"Isla--"

"I'm good." Finally, she spoke. "I just--uh--I just wanna get cleaned up and head to dinner now."

He pinched the keys from a frail palm, sticking them into the ignition. All the while wondering what the fuck he was going to do with the shaken up woman to his right.

Twenty-three years of friendship, and Isla never once thought she'd be involved in such incredulous activity. Jax never thought she'd get hauled into it either, really.

Juice was right. She looked like she was going to throw up, all pale and sickly.

He had done that. Jax was, essentially, the reason that Isla seemed as though she wanted to crawl out of her own fucking skin. Granted, she was already feeling rather discomfited after tending to Cameron's laceration for hours on end--at odds with her father and Tig for that time, too.

But now this...This made Isla feel horrible. Dirty. Disgusting.

"You want me to tell Gemma you're not feeling it tonight?" Jax looked beside himself, noticing her head hanging low as she flared out of the window. "So you can skip seeing everybody--"

"No." Flatly, she responded. "No, I wanna make sure Tig doesn't hate me."

"Why would he hate you?"

"I yelled at him." Isla sounded downcast, sad. "He was watching, being awkward, trying to tell me what dad and I were doing wasn't going to suffice, and I just snapped."

In understanding, he hummed. He knew how irritating Alexander Trager was. Irritating, insufferable, it was all the same.

"He won't hate you for that." Comfortably, Jax rested a hand on Isla's thigh.

She barely felt the ringed fingers gently gliding along her jeans as she shook. It was a tremor, light and unnoticeable to the naked eye, that Jax felt reverberate through his entire body through his palm.

"I don't think he's managed to be pissed at you for more than fifteen minutes at a time."

"Yeah." She mumbled, shifting awkwardly. "Yeah, you're right. I'm too sweet for anybody to stay mad at me--"

"I wouldn't say you were sweet."

She smacked at his hand with a laugh, throwing her head backward as her smile started to fade.

It was bittersweet.

Bittersweet because she was realizing that Tig had pardoned her for being a bitch, but she had also just disposed of a dead body on the side of the freeway.

Bittersweet because, now, there was no clear path for her and Jackson and whatever happened was just going to happen and they had to grin and bear it. Pretend it wasn't eating them from the inside out.

Bittersweet because their families--their family--were currently sat around the oak table in Gemma's dining room, waiting for the pair to waltz in after doing the most heinous.

Bitter. Fucking. Sweet.

"Where were you guys?!" Tig pointed his beer bottle at the duo, heeding Jax's hand in Isla's back pocket.

Of course, to Trager, that was more than just a comfort thing. He didn't know what they had just done--nor would he--but she was going to let him believe whatever the fuck he wanted to as long as it wasn't the actual truth.

"It don't matter." Clay dismissed, gesturing to Jax and Isla's designated spaces at the table. "They're here now. That's all I care about."

Her smile was warm, friendly and welcoming while she sat in between her father and partner in crime. Literally.

Chibs nudged her. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Slowly, she uttered. She reached for the wine glass that Gemma had so kindly laid out for her.

The two blondes made eye contact for a few moments, Jax's crystalline hues completely lifeless. Arid. He nodded toward her, an indication that he was feeling alright.

But Isla...She wasn't. Lying through her teeth was the only feasible means of getting over this. Whatever this was.

"I'm fucking brilliant, dad."

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #tig trager x oc #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

[penwieldingdreamer]

Dante's Prayer - Chapter 3

The 2nd part of the Ball, hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you think about this. A big thanks to my beta @fortheloveoffanfic for keeping me on track with the characters 😉

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2094

"Mrs. Gray, why don't we retreat to the parlour for a drink and leave the men to talk their business." Helene suggested linking her satin gloved arm with Polly's and led her away from Thomas and her husband, nodding at the two men in parting. 

"Lady McCann, please call me Polly, after all, we'll be family soon once the wedding is done." the Shelby matriarch told her nephews soon-to-be mother in law with a smile, the two women nearly gliding over to the smaller parlour of Castletown House. 

Returning the smile, the duchess nodded her head. "By all means, then I'm Helene. We will be family soon, given that my daughter won't bail on us." A soft sigh left her lips, knowing Saoirse could be difficult. "Your nephew will have his work cut out for him, I reckon." 

"Oh he'll learn how to deal with it. I have a good feeling that once they'll get to know each other they'll find common ground." The words were reassuring, yet both women knew that it would take a while for their children - in Polly's case she felt like her brother's children were just like her own - to warm up to the idea of sharing a life together. 

Arriving at the doors separating the sitting room from the grand ballroom, Helene nodded at the butler, who let them enter. They sat down at the round table, plush armchairs providing comfort as the Birmingham resident looked around the room. Polly thought back to the time when she had to work hard to provide for her family and be there for Ada and Finn during the war, and all she could feel was gratefulness toward Tommy who was able to give them the life they led now. 

"Has Thomas told you what he wants his wedding to be like?" the mother of three inquired, nodding at the butler in thanks for bringing them both refreshments and leaned back into the high-backed armchair. "I gather now that it is his second wedding he might want to change a few things." 

Taking a sip from the champagne, the gypsy lightly shook her head. "So far, he hasn't said anything. He only does this out of duty to the family. I told him it was a good deal, but other than that he's not going to object to anything. All I can ask of you is considering a custom my family on my mother's side has partook in every time during a wedding." Polly wasn't too sure, the duchess would agree to traditions of the travelling folks but the soft smile on her face and the light nod gave her hope. 

"I haven't always been a duchess, Polly." the blonde lady started, holding the Flute glas in her hand and watching the champagne sparkle in the soft glow of the lamps. "My mother originated from Germany, her cousin married the emperor of Austria and she was made Empress of Austria and Hungary. I often visited her when I was still a child and Sisi would visit the travelling folks of Hungary. Not all is as it seems, my daughter has the same spirit in her as Elizabeth did. Headstrong, modern, loyal to a fault, kind and with a childish wonder the war has snuffed out in many people. I do hope that Thomas won't try to do what the war hasn't been able to do. Despite me agreeing to this arrangement without her consent, she is still my little angel and I will grant you your customs just like we have ours, but should your nephew hurt her in any way, he will wish for war to take him again."

Nodding her head, Polly grinned at Helene, knowing they would get along splendidly. Protective of her family, just like herself, the Shelby matriarch knew that there was a good future ahead, bright was still to be questioned, but good at least. 

Just then the decorated glass doors of the light coloured parlour flew open, a disheveled looking Arthur standing there, eyes ablaze and his face red from anger. 

"Did ya know, Pol?" he asked storming over to his aunt, hands already grabbing for her arms. "Did ya know 'bout 'er, hm?" 

Polly had never been someone to be frightened or threatened, especially not by her family, so she wouldn't start now and still Arthur always had a soft spot in her heart. Delivering a hard slap, she pushed the eldest of the brothers away from her, regret shining in her eyes. "What the fuck are ya talkin' about, Arthur?" 

"I'm fuckin' talking about Niamh." he glared, his cheeks already turning a darker shade of red from anger and the hit he received. "She's been here all them years, pregnant with ma son, so 'm askin' again: did ya know 'bout it?" 

Wide eyed, Polly felt the wheels in her head turning, remembering the girl Arthur had left behind to marry Linda, the redheaded beauty in the back of the church. "She was at the wedding, didn't say a thing, just left when it was over. That's all I know." 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur stumbled back into the armchair on the other side of his aunt, closing his eyes to order the thoughts in his head flitting about like butterflies. "What am I gonna do now?" Polly moved over to him, pulling Arthur into a tight hug because she knew it was hard on him. 

Even though she wasn't a fan of Linda, her nephew loved her and she had to live with that. Now he needed to make a decision on what to do with the mother of his first child. "You need to talk to her, that much is clear. And get to know him, too." 

Nodding his head against his aunt's belly, Arthur felt a small portion of the weight lifting of his shoulders. Linda would be furious, she already was with him leaving for Ireland to be part of the wedding preparations. Nothing had been decided yet, but the eldest Shelby had a distinct feeling, that Lady McCann would want the ceremony to take place in their home and he already dreaded the day the whole family would again sit on Tommy's side of the church and Linda coming face to face with his former lover and mother of his first son.

"I thought you'd have ta greet guests." he said, a cigarette perched between his lips as he watched his wife-to-be gazing at the sky. 

"And I thought you would talk about business with my father." she replied, a smirk grazing her features and might he say it looked more like a small smile than a smirk. 

Her body leaned against the banister and Tommy couldn't help but let his eyes roam over it, breathing in the smoke of the cigarette he had missed all evening. "There's not much business to talk about when there's a wedding about to take place." 

Nodding her head, Saoirse turned her face towards his own as he leaned against the stone parapet next to her. "I hope Arthur has calmed down again after his encounter with Niamh when I left." she said after a moment of silence.

"Ach, he's fine. Needs to talk to her, though." Tommy shrugged, his stormy blues void of emotion as he stubbed out the cigarette on the banister. "His wife's goin' to have his hide, but he'll get over it." 

Shaking her head, Saoirse looked away from the gang leader, feeling like the little progress they had made went up in smoke just like the cigarette. "You shouldn't be so indifferent to the feelings of others, one day you might not have anyone left to turn to." 

"Often enough you only have yourself to rely on." he replied before he stood again, running a hand through his short hair and holding the other out to her. "We shouldn't make your guests believe that we hate each other, it's bad for business." 

Snorting, the youngest of three took his hand, feeling the warmth of Tommy's skin through the satin of her glove as he led her inside to the ballroom. "Who said anything about me liking you? I don't really care what my guests think, mother's guests on the other hand, that would be a shame. After all, they came all the way from Austria and London." 

"I see, you're not going to make it easy for me, are you?" he wondered, twirling her around so they could dance to the waltz the orchestra started to play. "What is this marriage going to look like, hm?" 

Putting her left hand on his shoulder, Saoirse mentally thanked her mother for making her take the dance lessons in Vienna or else the future bride of Birmingham's most known gangster would have been an embarrassment. Her right hand delicately laid in his left and she couldn't help but wonder if they could do more than just hold a gun and kill. "I believe you'd like me to play the obedient wife, staying at your house and doing nothing, what with your fortune now. I heard you have a son, so probably be a mother to him, while you go out and do whatever you do." 

"So, ya do know something 'bout me." he smirked, leading her across the grand room, unaware of the other dancers and their families. The pair danced in their own world and voiced their opinion on the upcoming union. "And here I thought ya didn't know anything." 

"My sisters talk, Mister Shelby, although I didn't know which one my husband-to-be was, I still heard their opinions on you loud and clear." 

The smirk on his lips widened at the thought of what Amalie and Louise had told their sister. "An' what pray tell did they tell ya?" 

"Oh, you know, that you're a gangster, cold as ice, a former war hero and would do anything to get money." Saoirse shrugged, trying to rile him up as she saw his blue eyes darken. Tommy knew that he had to keep it cool. It wouldn't do him good to drag her off and…no, he wouldn't yell at her and make a scene, that would break the deal he made with her mother. He'd rather enjoy the rest of his life while it lasted. 

Pulling her tighter into his body, he felt a satisfied grin make its way onto his face at her gasp. "You'd do well to keep those comments to a minimum. That money you so kindly brought up will grant you safety among Birmingham and the rest of England and Scotland. I don't want another of me wife killed because she wouldn't listen and had a mind of her own."

"Well then, you'd better look for another wife because I can be just as stubborn as you, Mister Shelby." 

"I'd rather not. You're more than enough." Wincing at the thought of having to go through that process again, Tommy shook his head. The music had changed and another waltz was played. "Besides, finding a good woman that freely accepts my son is quite rare in these times."

Pursing her lips, Saoirse looked up into his stormy blue eyes. "I couldn't imagine someone not liking your son. Judging by what Louise told me about him, I take it he's a ray of sunshine." 

"Are you really trying to make me hate you right now? But yes, Charlie is in fact a ray of sunshine despite having me as his father." Before the youngest daughter of the Duke could say anything, Tommy had twirled her outward, keeping his eyes on her face as he read the delight written all over it. 

He couldn't help but enjoy these moments, couldn't remember the last time he danced like this with anyone that hadn't been Grace. When Saoirse had returned to his arms, she sent him a grin, a genuine one at that. "I'm not trying to make you hate me, I was stating a fact and to be honest I can't wait to meet your son." 

Nodding his head at her answer, he led her around the ballroom for one final dance. "In two weeks you will meet him, so I do hope you won't change your mind about this arrangement." 

"Don't do anything to make me change it and I'll be there." she answered him, her right hand squeezing his left tighter than before and Tommy couldn't help but grin at her attempt to threaten him. Life would be a lot more interesting once the wedding was over. 

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